28 Nov Should we accept the rose-coloured view of the famous, as role models for kids?

Forget footballers, singers and film stars – families make the perfect role models, writes Mary Pearl.

Not so long ago, my grown-up son told his grandmother she was his role model. At one time or another, Mark has bestowed various family members with a look of admiration for things said or done that have amazed him. Now, it was Gran’s turn to bask in the glow of his love. She was chuffed, but all she did in her understated way was give him a gentle smile and say, “That’s nice, darling”.

Both she and my dad, who is no longer with us, lent Mark an independent ear when he felt he needed one, gave him sanctuary when he was running away from his troubles, and told him they had faith in his abilities. While they gave him uncritical love and unquestioning support, they didn’t know they were being role models. It would have made them nervous if they had realised such a huge responsibility had been placed on their shoulders.

Mark’s grandparents saw themselves as family-centred people who did what came naturally. That meant offering their services where they were needed, willingly, quietly, and without the razzamatazz exhibited by ‘role models’ these days. They would have left that to footballers, singers and film stars.

A friend I was speaking to about this believes family members can’t attain hero status in their own lifetimes. We need to admire the prowess of today’s sports people (or do they need us to admire them?), and we need to accept the rose-coloured patina that adorns the legendary folk of the past. The stories of these larger-than-life people, she says, symbolise attributes such as courage, individuality and selflessness, qualities to which we’d like our children to aspire.

If history debunks these people’s stories, she says, that’s still all right because our children will be adults by the time they find their idols have feet of clay. My friend dismisses the history of sports heroes disgracing themselves – it’s only a few who spoil it for everybody. She believes the important thing is that children need heroes, and family members just can’t compete.

I think she missed the point. My husband and I were Mark’s first port of call. We were his first teachers, disciplinarians, and friends. If he was going to learn about selflessness, courage, and individuality, it would be from us, as well as the aunties, uncles, and grandparents who expanded his little world. As his family, we are a constant in his life.

Mark knows he can always count on us to be there for him. There won’t be radical changes in our behaviour, nor will we disgrace ourselves and let him down. Rather, we provide enduring lessons about life, love and family. Lessons he has taken with him into adulthood.

He understands that neither footballers nor film stars know or care about him, and, despite constant media scrutiny of their personal lives, he does not know or need to know about them.

Illustration by Shane McGowan