Gunner Quinn
Parents who decide to pursue the survivalist lifestyle do so for many reasons. Some are convinced of a need for self-sufficiency. Others are uncomfortable with the direction in which they see society headed, and may even see a more deliberate lifestyle as beneficial for their children. And, yes, some are on a fantasy trip after watching the latest Mad Max movie. Regardless of the motivation, parents need to remember that they are carrying some other souls along with them…their children. Even the more mature adolescents may not understand the motivation to step out of the old, comfortable life to move into a new, more rural, life in which the new calf is always born at 3:00 AM, the cars don’t start in the morning and the rain washes out the culvert…again.
The children of preppers can become embittered as they watch these recurrent, minor disasters and realize they have given up their friends, their music, their athletic teams, or maybe just their time, to what they often see as their parents’ obsession with prepping. The kids can become recalcitrant.
There are some things that can be done to minimize these effects on children and maybe reduce the bitterness. I am not a psychiatrist or a counselor, though I do have academic background in behavioral health as part of my doctoral degree in public health. However, my academic background is not my real expertise in this matter or why I am writing this article. I’m writing this as a formerly resentful child of survivalists, but 50 years later. This article is not about what my parents did wrong. Some of what I write here is based on what they did right. But I have thought about some of this material for decades. I think that some of the parents who read this may identify with what I write here.
Before I get to dispensing my wisdom, or what passes for wisdom in my house, I should describe my family’s experience. My mother and step-father were convinced that there would be another Great Depression in the late 1970s. They said many times that if we couldn’t grow our own food and defend it, we would starve to death. They got this perspective from some popular books at the time, one of which was the famous “The Coming Crash.” In this dystopian future, my parents saw economic collapse and race riots. They were convinced enough to make some real-life changes.
My family initially started with ten children, but by the time we started the prepper life, there were only four at home and I was the oldest at 15 years of age. My stepfather was an autobody repairman and made a decent living as a body shop manager. But years of supporting ten children had prevented my parents from accumulating wealth, so they had to sell their house, cash in on the life insurance policy, and take all of the money out of savings to buy an old military barracks and 10 acres of old cotton land to put it on. This was in the High Plains of Texas. We moved into the house that was completely missing the west wall in January, a cold, rainy, and bleak beginning to our new life.
Over the next few years, we rebuilt the inside of the house and built the west wall. We built a strong field fence around the entire acreage. Then we started a large truck garden with corn, melons, beans, tomatoes…and two acres of okra. That is more okra than anyone can possibly eat. We raised goats, chickens, feeder calves, many of which died due to our incompetence. This was all pretty standard rural living except for the scale. Ten acres is more land than many people realize. We did get an old M Farmall tractor for plowing, then bought a second for spare parts to keep the first one running.
But then we started the prepping. We built food and ammunition into the wall voids of the house as we rebuilt the inside. We buried supplies in metal garbage cans with dry ice inside to fill the void with carbon dioxide. We dehydrated and canned food (lots of okra). We got a wind-powered generator, which we never actually got to work because it was probably 70 years old. Thinking back on that time, most of what I remember is mud, cold, and some posthole diggers. The summers were hot, but I remember the cold. I left when I turned 18 and started college, which was good for me. That ended my time as the child of a survivalist.
That time taught me several things about myself and about society. In recent years, I think American society has lost sight of what is happening with the youth. Most importantly, we scare the kids. Maybe it is global warming that scares them. After all, a popular congresswoman said the world was going to end in 10 years! (That’s getting close by the way.) Then there is the COVID-19 epidemic and the reduction in academic scores and forest fires and race riots and more. Sometimes, it is worth taking a deep breath and thinking about how our actions are perceived. Don’t scare the kids! They have enough to think about for now. They need to know that when they are ten years older, things will probably be just fine. Maybe the world will be different, but it is not going to end. Even 50 years later, I see a different world, but it is still here. Children need to hear that.
Of course, once we get past the kids’ induced nightmares, similar to the “duck-and-cover” ones I had as a kid, there are some actual beneficial actions we as parents can take to help our children cope with what is often a difficult and awkward time anyway, one made even worse by what is often a more cloistered existence in our home-made prepper heavens. Following is some advice from someone who went through something similar a long time ago. I know the kids now have different options and different perspectives; nevertheless, I think these rules may be helpful to some people.
Rule 1. Give them something to do that can be finished in a reasonable amount of time. Let them know that there is an end to labor and a reward for work well done. Make sure you include tasks that they can take pride in doing well.
Rule 2. Take time to teach them new skills. Carpentry, electrical wiring, canning, driving a tractor, small engine repair, tailoring, welding…even writing code if that is what needs to be done. They don’t have your experience or education, so bring them along with some individual attention. And give them time to master those skills. If you are just learning those skills, tell them you will learn them together.
Rule 3. Give them responsibility but only after you have taught them what they need to know to do the task well.
Rule 4. Give them time off. Remember they may see their lives flying by as they miss their friends, their social media, their computer games, and everything else. They may think they are missing all of this due to their parents’ obsession.
Rule 5. Don’t make a fool out of yourself with dire predictions that don’t come true. (Remember congresswoman AOC’s prediction about climate change and the end of the world!) Being prepared for a disaster is wise and rewarding. And disasters will happen. But some disasters are just not going to happen, though it is tough to know which ones. I’m getting pretty pessimistic about cyberattacks. And there is always another epidemic that is not just possible, but probable. But be rational. Remember: don’t scare the kids.
Rule 6. If you are a family of faith, don’t neglect that aspect of your life. It is important to let the children see your priorities, and there are many reasons to make your faith community a routine.
Fifteen years after I left home, my parents divorced and my mother took possession of the house and most of the land. By that time, I had a Navy commission and was stationed in Saudi Arabia for Desert Storm. When I was finally able to return to the acreage, the land had reverted to natural vegetation, mostly tumbleweeds. The blow sand had piled up next to the fence we had built and I could just step over the top strand of barbed wire. But the house was solid and my mother stayed there for another 15 years. When she needed to move into an assisted living facility, we sold the place and used the money to support her. We worked hard to prepare for a disaster that never happened, but I was glad the hard work provided my mother with support in her later years.
The Second Great Depression was supposed to happen in the late 1970s. It didn’t happen and for that, I am happy. I did develop a respect for self-sufficiency and the ability to do good things with one’s hands. I have only one real regret: I wish I had paid more attention and learned more. I lost my recalcitrance. And I got over the “duck-and-cover” drills, too.
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