Date: Sun, 6 Oct 1996 01:14:03 -0700
To: Ann
From: gswann@mailhost.primenet.com (Greg Swann)
Subject: Boundaries
Cc: Dad, Ken
Bcc: Julie
X-Attachments: 

I should have anticipated that you would try to rob Cameron of his
triumph. I have dozens of pictures like the one you sent, all of which
require Cameron's sometimes changing interpretation to identify what,
if anything, is being represented. Your son is leaping new intellectual
hurdles daily--he writes numbers incessantly now; he and Kevin Hilliard
are memorizing certain sums for fun; they actually giggle about them;
he is making an effort to memorize songs--and you seek to take that
away from him. Nice.

What he did here is without precedent. Without any suggestion he drew
what is clearly recognizeable as a face--no interpretation needed--in
detail. Anatomically correct, though lacking a nose, and with the
correct number of features. Cameron has excellent motor skills, as
anyone who has watched him play with those tiny playsets or the
computer can easily note. Didn't you notice how completely he had
removed the silk from that ear of corn he didn't get to cook in
Washington? What he has lacked is an interest in abstract knowledge.
I have been aware of this, and concerned about it and working on it,
for more than three years. It's slow going precisely _because_ he
is so exquisitely pig-headed, but, as with both children, my goal
is to give them the supplements I know they need without robbing them
of one iota of their perfect willfulness. Standing firm for principle,
even in error, is _always_ preferable to submission. "You don't
gotta wanna, you just gotta"--by grant of exigency I will compel
your body, but I wouldn't dream of trying to compel your mind.

Which leads me to this word: Ahem.

Last weekend in the desert Cameron recounted to me his "memories"
of Amelia. Cameron saw Amelia in March of 1993, when he was 16 months
old. He has no memories of Amelia, but you and your husband have
recounted history to him in a way that he is not able to distinguish
from memory. Today in the car he said, gigglingly, "Meri, do you remember
how I used to call you 'Maya'?" Cameron has no such first-hand memory,
and I doubt seriously that Meredith does. _I_ don't, and I'm old enough
to sort the significant from the insignificant in daily events. What
has happened is that you have recounted Cameron's history to him in
a way that he is not able to distinguish from memory.

I understand that you are grieving for what you have done to these
children and that this is why you pursue them so obsessively; I thought
faxing Cameron at school was over the top until I saw the mail packet
you sent there. But inculcating doctrinal matter--factual or not--in
such a way that the subject is unable to distinguish it from memory
is called brain-washing. It is an egregious an intolerable intrusion,
to say the absolute least. I know that you and the man you married
are both blinded to the things you have done, and I know you have
the idea that everything will be wonderful if somehow you can manage
to assemble this composite family, this DysBrady Bunch. But I must
ask you to stop trying to coerce Cameron into portraying your
family lie. You have the legal power to destroy Meredith's wonderful
mind, and I can't do anything to stop it. But I have the right and
the power to protect Cameron, and I request and require you to
respect the boundaries of his person, his mind and his ego. If
Cameron relays your memories as though they were his, he does not
become part of you or your "family", he simply becomes a fraudulent
ego. If you actually love your children, let them be who they are.

I know this is futile. Surely it will be useful when edited down to
two or three lines in the next sleazy filing from the desk of the
ever wealthier Donn Kessler. In any case, Cameron is prospering
in glorious new ways. You so mourned his weaning that I had feared
you had infantilized him in order to remain "mother" to an infant.
Either way, that's all over, and there are wonders to behold.
In your spare moments between aggrandizing yourself and demonizing
me--if there _are_ any moments between those important tasks--try
to be proud for him.

Greg Swann