Fly me to the moon

Remember when you were a kid and you felt like you could be anything you wanted? Growing up, I wanted to be a zookeeper, a Disneyland mascot, an emperor, a writer and a judge at different points of my life.

My dad used to tell me that I could do anything I dreamed of doing, and it didn’t matter what I did because if I was passionate about it, the money would follow. Well, one time he did tell me to be an investment banker or a lawyer because those guys earned truckloads of money. I guess it was his way of giving me viable career options after he heard about my mascot gig. But for the most part, he told me to follow my heart, wherever that took me.

Even though I probably wouldn’t have done half the things on my list given the chance, it was nice to know that I *could* have done it.

Now as a parent, I understand how tough it is to offer that kind of unconditional support, especially when we think that we know best for our kids. Our idea of success is very much tied to how much they earn or how famous they get, but mostly the money part. As far as I can help it, I don’t want them to have to spend the better part of their working life struggling to make ends meet. Or stuck in a job they thought was cool at 14, but didn’t turn out quite so cool at 34. To balance the whole heart-following with valuable practical advice without sounding like the kind of annoying pessimistic parent who’s too jaded to believe in dreams.

Just last week, Tru informed me that he was going to be an astronaut when he grew up.

At first, in my head, I was all like “Isn’t that so 1990? Do kids still dream of going to the moon these days? Now they want to wear jeans and invent Facebook and be a billionaire at 25. And astronaut? I mean, Tom Hanks seemed like he was having a pretty rough time in Apollo 13.”

But then his eyes lit up and he followed it up by telling me about how he was going to fly a spaceship to the moon and do a somersault when he got there. Which does sound pretty cool when he put it that way.

So instead of telling him about how dangerous astronaut-ing is, or how tough it was to get into the NASA program, or how he was going to miss his wife and kids (if he has them), or how there’s never even been one Singaporean astronaut probably because of all of the above reasons, I gave him a hi-5 and told him that it would be awesome. And also to bring back a moon-rock as a souvenir.

Did I say it just to make my kid happy? Well, yes and no. On some level, I think anything they’re passionate about deserves my support, even when I don’t necessarily agree. And if he eventually becomes an astronaut, or the guy who designs the spaceship, or the guy who pumps fuel into the spaceship, I think I’d still be awfully proud.