Parenting: Gardening, not Engineering

A metaphor to orient our parental leadership style more toward God and less toward ourselves.

Jun 03, 2023

“O believers! Protect yourselves and your families from a Fire whose fuel is people and stones, overseen by formidable and severe angels, who never disobey whatever Allah orders—always doing as commanded.” –Quran 66:6

One hot Makkan morning on my way to class a Bedouin taxi driver told me, “There’s no person in the dunya (world) who we genuinely want to outdo us, besides a child.” I don’t think I had children at that time, but it always stuck with me. Our innate desire for our children to be successful, more so than ourselves, is a desire that frequently motivates our decision and triggers our fears. Our children are these tiny human beings, full of heartwarming joy, we’re responsible for. A part of the unique blessing and test of this God-given amanah (trust) is the fact that it didn’t come with a manual. If we knew of a place that distributed magical duas ensuring a righteous successful future for our children we would form a mazar and line up in circles to receive it. So, how do we negotiate the tension between our limited control over our children’s future and the monumental amanah we are entrusted with, both socially and religiously?

Even the prophets faced challenges in raising their children. Allah brings this in the Quran from multiple perspectives: Prophet Nuh (Noah) and his son who, though he was a prophet of God, rejected the truth down to the last moment (something that wasn’t easy for him);1 Prophet Musa (Moses) and his mother when Allah inspired her to “Nurse him, but when you fear for him, put him then into the river, and do not fear or grieve;”2 but even to the point where Allah says “Indeed, some of your spouses and children are enemies to you, so beware of them” when speaking about the Muhājirūn whose families didn’t migrate with them to Madinah.3 If these righteous people all had adversities specifically dealing with their children, what about us? It is nonsensical to think we, with all of our shortcomings and deficiencies, would not also have challenges.

Growing up in the American Muslim community, I saw many different parenting styles—from strict, hyperfocused on education or sports, to laissez-faire, allowing the kids to virtually raise themselves. I vividly remember one time a brother came to Eid prayer with his 8-year-old twins in hand and a belt around his neck. When asked, “Why do you have a belt around your neck?” he responded, “Until they learn to fear Allah they will fear this belt.” Though I was a child myself at the time, I knew that couldn’t be the best way to instill discipline or obedience. But, I was conflicted. I also had friends whose parents were in the masjid every day for every salah (prayer) yet never enforced any religion on them. Allah told the Prophet ﷺ “You surely cannot guide whoever you like, but it is Allah Who guides whoever He wills, and He knows best who are ˹fit to be˺ guided.”4 I frequently ask myself, as an Imam and a father, what leadership style is healthiest when raising children, for both the child and the parent?

A core part of modernity and the Western tradition is the concept of “autonomy”, or being self-governing, and anything else (i.e., external forces) is oppressive.5 From this, we raise our children as if we are engineers and they are our little projects. We want them to have the highest function and chances of success; so, we try to control everything—putting them in the best schools and extracurricular activities and making sure their environment is conducive to our aspirations for them. But, from an Islamic perspective, their success and failure (or ours, as parents) are not ultimately dependent on our output. This engineering focus, originating from an innate loving disposition, can lead us to forget who’s ultimately in control, blinding our ability to figuratively see God.

Gardening

“They wish to extinguish Allah’s light with their mouths, but Allah will ˹certainly˺ perfect His light, even to the dismay of the disbelievers. He is the One Who has sent His Messenger with ˹true˺ guidance and the religion of truth, making it prevail over all others, even to the dismay of the polytheists. O believers! Shall I guide you to an exchange that will save you from a painful punishment? ˹It is to˺ have faith in Allah and His Messenger, and strive in the cause of Allah with your wealth and your lives. That is best for you, if only you knew.” –Quran 61:8-11

Imam Idris Abdul-Zahid recently taught me a different perspective. As a part of the Muslim Wellness Foundation’s Imam’s Roundtable, I asked him, “How do you define leadership?” He said (in summary), “Many have given definitions, but let me tell you my leadership style: I provide a vision, invest in people, and nurture their capabilities.” This really resonated, partly because his style resonated with mine, but also because of the imagery it conjured up for me. “So, you’re a gardener?” I responded. “Your vision is the sunlight, your investment in people is planting seeds, and then your nurturing of their capabilities is watering the plant so.” This metaphor for leadership, i.e. gardening, applies to parenting very well and is counter-distinctive to the engineers we often view ourselves. Furthermore, I believe this to be a theological position.

The Quran opens with a dua (supplication), which we say at least 17 times a day during each rakat (unit) of our prayer,—“Guide us to the straight path.”6 This supplication is significant because it directs our hearts and minds towards Allah, beseeching His guidance. After all, “Allah’s guidance is the only true guidance.”7 In His divine wisdom, before we get to the pinnacle of dua of Surah Al-Fatiha, we start with a series of theological affirmations: “In the Name of Allah—the Most Compassionate, Most Merciful. All praise is for Allah—Lord of all worlds, the Most Compassionate, Most Merciful, Master of the Day of Judgment. You alone we worship and You alone we ask for help.”8 In addition to teaching us the art of dua, Allah is ensuring we clearly understand whose guidance we are seeking. Therefore, bringing the focus to our parental leadership style and disposition, we must know it is Allah who truly guides and determines all things, not us. We are merely placed as a khalifa9 (authority) over our children.

“God does not burden any soul with more than it can bear.” –Quran 2:286

If we are to take the gardening perspective and apply it to parenting, our children are the plants. Every plant has specific needs—some require strong and long sun exposure while some do not, some require moist soil while others require a dry environment. The nature of the plant itself will dictate the type and amount of care that’s required from the gardener. Thus, as parents, we have to pay attention to our children and learn what their specific needs are. A more introverted and analytical child that takes to books might be more adept at memorizing the Quran and more extensive Islamic studies (or, for secular studies, medicine and engineering) whereas a more extroverted creative child possibly will not. What gifts did Allah create them with and which weren’t they given? As gardeners, the primary objective is to facilitate the conditions for our children to flower into their full God-given potential. Yet, still, the nature of the plan, and even its outcome, is not entirely ours to control. We do our part leaving the rest to God and that does not make us less of gardeners (i.e., parents) or them as plants (i.e., children).

Sunlight

We must ensure the plant is given adequate sunlight—God. Allah is Al-Khaliq Al-Raziq (The Creator, The Provider). Like the sun, He is unseen, in Himself, but His signs are recognized by those who pay attention. Without sunlight photosynthesis is impossible, but it is also broad and encompassing and not very specific or focused. Our children are no different. In addition to having overarching general goals and aspirations for them (that are flexible enough to change depending on the needs that arise), we have to ensure our kids know who God is and strive to make them love Him and His messenger ﷺ. Long past are the days of teaching children religion by fear and force. In the current zeitgeist, where everything is geared towards appealing to our desires and objective values and reason have been placated to a backseat, it simply does not work. Additionally, like the sun, so long as it's loving and healthy, there cannot be too much for our children. But, that plant, our children, must be planted in fertile earth.

Earth

While some plants can grow in water alone, most plants require being planted in earth. Before planting them, the seeds need preparation and the ground needs tilling. What earth, or environment, we raise our children in is something worth considering on multiple levels—society, community, and home.

We have very little control over the society at large wherein we raise our children. Even the romanticized view of Islam in Muslim-majority countries has been permeated by the Western monoculture. From my experiences living in these environments, they require heightened vigilance, more than living as minorities in the West, because the prevalence of Muslims and masjids easily deceived us into thinking the West’s problems are nonexistent there. I knew numerous young people who grew up in Muslim-majority countries without any attachment to, and often a perverted view of, Islam. Allah is Al-Alim Al-Qadir (the All-Knowledgeable All-Powerful one who decrees all things); therefore, the place and time, situation and context, we are raising our children in is precisely as Allah has ordained and the absolute best for our families. Perhaps we aspire to improve our context and situation, as all humans do, but it should not be something that causes us remorse. From my experience, the values taught at home and reinforced by the community are the most impactful; while “family life has the strongest influence, all environments influence one another.10

We have to ask ourselves what will be the at-home investment we are creating for our children. How will we take from our own personal experiences, the things that we wish were done differently, and build upon them? Studies have shown that the type of emotional support we show our children affects many areas of their lives for 20-30 years in the future.11 This is especially important for second-generation American parents. While perhaps the disposition of our parents worked with us, that likely will not work for our children and requires an intentional shift in focus when parenting. Religion no longer has the same significance in the hearts of our children, as one study showed 87% of youth, ages 13-27 years old, said participating in religious or spiritual practices did not lead to a sense of purpose.12 Can we create healthy relationships where our children feel comfortable sharing their opinions, trust they are cared for, and feel safe being themselves? In the aforementioned study, those were the things that young people reported they gave them a sense of belonging in religious communities.

Allah tells us, “God will not burden a soul with more than they can bear.”13 Therefore, regardless of how daunting things may seem, we have the capacity to handle it. Our responsibility is to figure out how to maximize what He has provided us with and utilize it to earn His pleasure. That requires the theological position of humility, which is built upon loving knowledge and service. We must believe in Him and couple it with righteous actions. We accept our children for how He created them and then try to ensure their environment is conducive to flourishing, but we also have to nurture them.

Water

If we want to raise loving moral Muslim children we must pour that into them, as the famous Arabic proverb goes, “faqid al-shay' la yu'tihi (you cannot give what you don’t have).” This requires intentionality, engaging with them in a method appropriate to the needs of their age. Thankfully, in Iḥyāʾ ʿUlūm Al-Dīn (Revival of the Islamic Sciences), Imam Al-Ghazali (d. 505/1111) mentions an anonymous quote that can be used as a metric just for that. “Your child is your raihan (sweet basil)14 for seven years, your servant for seven years, and then they are either your enemy or your companion.”15

For the first 7 years, we should treat our children like we are caring for a sweet-smelling flower. As delicate beings, they should be cherished, loved, and appreciated for the gift from God they are. This isn’t the time when we are rough with them, as that could damage the flower and its development. These are the years wherein we instill a sense of belonging and self-confidence by bringing them close and showing mercy to them. The Prophet (SAW) said, “He is not one of us who does not have mercy on our young and does not respect our elders''16 and, in the same vein, when a man said he did not kiss his sons, “I cannot put mercy in your heart after Allah has taken it away from it.”17 Additionally, these are the years we lay the foundation for the years to come.

Ages 7-14 is the phase of intentional instruction. The quote says they are “your servants for seven years”, but I understand that from the perspective of apprenticeship. Even in the modern era, up until the industrial factory system, it was very common for children to assist in the family business with age-appropriate tasks. “It was considered a merit of the domestic system that it kept husband and wife and children together so that their earnings went into a common purse and children worked under the eyes of their parents.”18 Furthermore, “before the introduction of mass schooling, a degree of formal training was needed to iron out initial differences in skills among children and to socialize adolescents into adulthood.”19 Between ages 7-14, we should focus on giving them tarbiya (personal development), providing them with instruction that prepares them for when they are more autonomous and forced to make decisions for themselves. The hope and prayer is that, by the time they reach the next phase, they have grown into young people and we enjoy sharing each other’s company.

That leaves us with the phase from 14 years old and onwards. By now the planted seeds are already in the earth and, hopefully, started sprouting. As gardeners, we should have a basic grasp on what type of flower they have the potential to become, and our job is to lovingly provide scaffolding to help it grow straight. Though this is relatively young, especially in our current climate (with the social and economic trends constantly expanding the limits of adolescence well into the twenties),20 this is when they start trying to answer the twin identity questions: “Who am I?” and “What is my place in the world?”21 Those questions are beyond our control, unanswerable and unresolvable.

During the beginning part of this new phase of our children’s lives, they go through many biological and cognitive, but also social-contextual, changes. This is a pivotal time to change our parenting style to one of true friendship—based on love and which is not always pleasurable—as they start to become more peer-focused and seek independence and autonomy.22 It requires being principled and wise, telling the loved one what they need to hear and not necessarily what they want to hear. Nevertheless, the perspective is less of a domineering authoritative parent and more of a well-meaning mentor. If we are able to manage our own emotions effectively, keeping our intentions on pleasing Allah and serving our children’s needs, then they will be companions to us on our spiritual journey.

We must not forget that each of us will have a reckoning,23 both children and parents alike, for how we lived our lives and what we did during them. Every juncture has specific requirements and obligations. We were commanded to be good to our parents—not even making a disrespectful utterance, in our youth and in their old age24—but also to protect our family from incurring Allah’s displeasure.25 This responsibility is often full of difficulty and turmoil, but its rewards, if done sincerely excellent, is the everlasting pleasure of whatever the soul desires in Paradise26 in the company of the prophets, the people of truth, the martyrs, and the righteous.27 Thus, pragmatically speaking, we must recognize the extent of our abilities and exert ourselves there. Our children are not little projects of raw material to engineer into whatever we have always wished for them; rather, they are delicate flowers gifted to us by God to care for. Ultimately, despite our best efforts, there is no might and power except by Him.

Allah aid us all!

Khawatir

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