But They Didn’t Get the Right Message

The Lion King taught a generation of children to sing “no worries.” The real story was about what happened when Simba finally rejected that philosophy — and it may be the parenting lesson our culture needs most right now.

A generation of children grew up singing two words that almost everyone can still hear in their head: Hakuna Matata. No worries. It was catchy, funny and wonderfully memorable. Timon and Pumbaa taught young Simba to forget his troubles, enjoy the present and stop worrying about yesterday.

There was only one problem. That wasn’t the message of The Lion King.

The real story was about what happened when Simba finally rejected that philosophy. Simba had inherited something larger than himself. He had a family, a history, a community and responsibilities that existed whether he wanted them or not. Running away temporarily relieved him of those responsibilities, but it didn’t eliminate them.

Eventually he had to go home. He had to remember who he was. He had to accept responsibility. He had to repair what had been damaged. And, ultimately, he had to leave something behind for the generation following him.

That was the message. But they didn’t get the right message.

Our Own Version of Hakuna Matata

Instead, our culture increasingly embraced its own version of Hakuna Matata. Don’t worry too much about tomorrow. Government can provide what you need. Work doesn’t need to occupy forty hours of your week. Someone should forgive the loan. Someone should subsidize the rent. Someone should provide healthcare, education, childcare or income.

The political arguments surrounding each of those policies are complicated, and reasonable people can disagree about them. But parenting requires us to ask a deeper question: what happens when children repeatedly hear that responsibility belongs to somebody else?

Government programs may provide a safety net. They cannot provide character.

Children learn responsibility when they make their bed even though someone else could do it. They learn stewardship when they take care of something because replacing it costs money. They learn work when they finish a job after it stops being fun. They learn sacrifice when the family sometimes says, “We can’t afford that.”

And they learn something enormously important when they see adults accepting responsibility instead of immediately searching for someone else to carry it.

From Selfies to “You-ies”

Then came another cultural revolution. The selfie. Technology suddenly made it possible to place ourselves at the center of almost every picture. Where am I? What am I doing? How do I look? How many people liked my photograph?

There is nothing inherently wrong with taking a selfie. But as a metaphor for culture, it is revealing. We became exceptionally good at selfies. Perhaps we didn’t spend enough time teaching “you-ies.”

Who needs you? What can you contribute? What obligation do you have to the people who came before you? What are you leaving for the people who come afterward?

Those are legacy questions. And legacy may be one of the most important things parents have stopped discussing.

The Second Inheritance

Legacy doesn’t require wealth. A father may leave his children money and very little character. Another may leave almost no money but pass along discipline, faith, honesty, work ethic, compassion and the understanding that freedom carries responsibility.

The second inheritance may ultimately be worth considerably more.

That is why parenting cannot simply be about making childhood comfortable. Our responsibility isn’t to remove every obstacle from our children’s path. Sometimes our responsibility is to prepare them to climb over the obstacle after we’re no longer standing beside them.

Turning the Camera Around

Ironically, that is much closer to what The Lion King was actually trying to teach. Simba couldn’t remain in paradise indefinitely. Hakuna Matata was an escape, not a destination. Eventually the young lion had to turn around, confront reality and assume his place in the circle connecting one generation to another.

Perhaps our children need to hear that part of the story again.

Enjoy life. Laugh. Rest. Don’t spend every waking moment worrying about tomorrow. But remember who you are. Remember where you came from. Work for something larger than yourself. Take responsibility for what has been entrusted to you.

And before taking another selfie, occasionally turn the camera around. Because the most important question isn’t always, “What does the world owe me?” Sometimes it is, “What will be better because I was here?”

That is not Hakuna Matata. That is legacy.