A Star is Born

For many reasons, but mostly boredom, I was perusing the VH1 website when I stumbled across their “100 Greatest” lists.  They pretty much have every entertainment category covered, including one of particular interest to me - 100 Greatest Kid Stars.

The top five child stars of all time, according to VH1 are:

5. Drew Barrymore
4. Jodie Foster
3. Olsen Twins
2. Macaulay Culkin
1. Gary Coleman

There are two things worth mentioning.  First, there are, technically, six people on this list, but I guess we can let that slide and count the Olsen Twins as a single unit.  Second, 80% of the top five child stars of all-time have had drug problems.  Only Jodie Foster hasn’t had a brush with the law because of drugs – or at least if she has, we don’t know about it.  Those aren’t good odds if you’re kids a child celebrity, that’s for sure.

This got me thinking about the amount of pressure those kids probably felt.  There was pressure from their agents, producers, fans, and friends.  I’m willing to wager, though, that the most pressure came from their parents.  In fact, all you need to do is have access to the internet and a NY Post to know that’s a pretty fact-filled statement.

Something else I know to be true is that it’s not just parents of child celebrities who put the pressure on thick.  Half of what I download on YouTube is clips of idiotic parents going ballistic at sports events.  Sure it’s high comedy, but it’s also tragic at Shakespearean levels.

I actually had a grandfather who put obscene amounts of pressure on me to excel in sports.  Every event, there he was in the stands, hooting and hollering about how much butt I was going to kick.  Talk about pressure.  If I didn’t win, he may have looked like a fool, but I felt like a loser.  And I wasn’t the only one with a parent like that.  Many of my friends in the band, in the acting club, on the football team, and even in the classroom felt pressure from their parents to excel at unreasonable levels.  I truly am surprised only two of my friends turned into coke heads in college. 

Surely, though, a laissez faire approach to parental pressure is equally bad and will, undoubtedly lead a kid to ask, “do my parents love me?”  Just as too much pressure can lead to the same question, as it did with me (I know I would have asked that if my grandmother – the Ying to my grandfather’s whacked out Yang – hadn’t vouched for him). 

So where’s the middle ground?  Is there one?  When does encouragement turn into domination?  When does relaxed become careless? 

I don’t know and I don’t think anyone else does either.  Why’s that?  Because every child is different is why.  I responded to my grandmother’s “give your best” approach where as my good friend Pedro (his real name was Pete, but he spoke fluent Spanish) responded to his father’s “you-have-to-be-the-best” approach.  Ironically, I had never seen a kid have so much respect and love for a father who was only slightly to the left of Pol Pot.  

All this, of course, begs the question – why do parents put all this pressure on their kids?  I know my grandfather was a mediocre high school athlete (where as I excelled) and Pedro’s dad didn’t even have a G.E.D., and guess what?  Pedro was 3^rd in our high school class and went to a little college in New Haven, Connecticut.  I would bet dollars to donuts that Pedro and I are not the only two people to have grandparents or parents try to live vicariously through us. 

Look, If my daughter has a hint of academic, musical, theatric, and/or athletic ability, I will try to foster that and encourage her to follow her dreams.  There exists the distinct possibility, however, that I will cross that line and put pressure on her to be the next Kelly Clarkson, Jennie Finch, or Marilyn von Savant. 

And while I’m not excusing it, I can only say that it would make sense if I cross that line since I never realized my goals of going pro in sports (thanks for a knee injury).  Seeing Anna do it – and being by her side the entire way – seems like the next best thing, right? 

I can only hope, though, that if I do cross that line, I will realize it before I’ve forced my child into a career for which only she’ll be remembered because of a cute catch phrase! 

You know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout, Willis?