If My Parents had Raised Paris Hilton
By Alan Burkhart (05/11/07)
Let's face a few facts. Paris Hilton drove under the influence of alcohol. She was caught, her license was suspended and she was put on probation. She violated that probation. People who violate probation go to jail. Period.
At least, that's how it works for the Little People like you and me.
At a hearing a few days ago, Paris was sentenced to 45 days in jail for a blatant violation of her probation. Typical of the spoiled and arrogant Hollywood elite, Paris derided the judge, her publicist, the prosecutor and everyone else involved in the case. As of this writing, she is petitioning Governor Schwarzenegger to issue a full pardon. Paris’s mother, Kathy Hilton, was equally disdainful of both judge and prosecutor. Words like "pathetic" and "ludicrous" were used by mother and daughter to describe the verdict and the sentence.
For the sake of perspective, let's leave the Hilton family's fantasy land and spend a moment in the real world:
Back in 1974, I had the poor judgment to borrow my parent's car, drive 25 miles to the next county, and spend several hours swilling beer and shooting pool in a rather sleazy redneck tavern. I was all of sixteen years old. When I left the bar to go home, I didn't even make it out of the city limits before the dreaded blue lights lit up my world. I did at least have the good sense to pull over without making a run for it.
So there I was: It was 2:00 AM and I had to call my parents to come get me out of jail. When my dad entered the detention area and saw me in a dank, rusty cell with a dozen other drunks, I was crushed. The disappointment in his eyes was more painful than any physical punishment I've ever endured. The ride home was by far the longest twenty-five miles of my life. He said very little, except to ask me where I'd been and who I'd been with. Otherwise he simply stared straight ahead and maintained a stony silence. The tension was as thick as the stone walls of my former accommodations.
Arriving at home, I was immediately confronted by my mom. I'll spare you the details. By the time she was done, the safe and quiet cell from which my father had escorted me seemed downright appealing. Suffice it to say that my folks believed in the scripture that says, "If ye spare the rod ye spoil the child." If memory serves, I'm still grounded, but Mom does at least let me drive these days.
From what I've seen, Paris's family is determined to help her avoid any and all consequences of her actions. The fact that driving under the influence is not only illegal but also deadly seems unimportant to them.
The point here is I was taught that there are consequences for my actions. I was taught that right and wrong are not relative to one's bank balance or popularity. It never crossed my mind that I was somehow above the punishment for my indiscretions. Quite the contrary, I was scared stiff and genuinely remorseful over my stupidity. While I was correct to feel that way, this was not grounds to mitigate my punishment. The deed was done, and I absolutely deserved what I got for it. Some would argue that I got off lightly because the city elected not to press charges against a 16 year-old kid who made a magnificently stupid mistake. These folks weren't at the Burkhart residence when I arrived with my father. Trust me: What I got wasn't "light." I never drank and drove again. Ever.
Paris on the other hand seems to feel she's being singled out because of who she is. Well Paris, just who do you think you are? Do you feel you're somehow above the law due to your family's wealth or your role in a cheesy television show? Are you somehow better than the rest of us because you drive a $200,000 car?
Truth be told, Paris and her parents are incensed because she's being treated (so far) precisely as anyone else would be treated. She's not getting some sort of preferential treatment reserved for the rich and powerful. She did the crime. Now she gets to do the time.
This then, is the principal flaw in Paris's upbringing. She was never taught the concept of personal accountability. She was never made to deal with harsh circumstances brought on by her own poor judgment. In her mind, the entire universe is Paris-centric. She is therefore ill equipped to deal with the reality of crime and punishment - even when it's a relatively minor bit of jail time. In short, even at age 26 she's still a spoiled brat with a myopic view of the larger world around her.
Proper parenting means praising a child when he or she does well, and applying proper discipline when the kid makes an ass of himself as I did all those years ago. Proper parenting also requires that a child have a structure of rules and routine that must be followed to the letter. Most importantly, a child must be taught that we do not live in a vacuum. Our actions, no matter how slight, have a ripple effect upon others. Sometimes that ripple is very slight, other times it is a tidal wave that swamps everyone around us.
Paris knows none of this. While I recognize that her grossly irresponsible parents are at the root of the problem, Paris is nevertheless old enough to know right from wrong. She's old enough to be responsible for herself. How sad that she continues to act in ways that send a tidal wave of bad examples to youngsters around the world. I won't even address the disgusting pornographic video she did before this most recent escapade.
Nowadays, on the (thankfully rare) occasions when I exercise glaringly poor judgment, my mother can still pin me to the floor with a withering stare or that "tsk tsk" noise that only mothers know how to make. Why? Because of all the things I learned growing up, respect was numero uno. How I am perceived by those whom I respect is important to me, and because I respect myself, this inspires me to be a better person.
And respect, both for herself and for others, is what Paris Hilton most lacks.
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