Stoicism for Middle Schoolers

A while back, a friend of mine mentioned that he had been reading stoic philosophy. I decided to join him by reading Enchiridion by Epictetus, one of the more renown, stoic philosophers from ancient Greece. Enchiridion is a book of practical wisdom offered in short, accessible snippets. As I was reading, I couldn’t help but think how useful much of the advice would have been in high school, which meant my daughters suddenly had a new book at the top of our joint reading list.

We started Enchiridion without much of an idea about what to expect. I knew there were some sections I hoped would generate discussion, but I had no idea what kind of engagement I could expect from my girls. Yet after a bit of a warm-up period, both girls settled into some of the most thoughtful conversations we’ve had.

For some background, Epictetus was once a slave, and his philosophy on freedom was not based on legal status or freedom to move without impediment. Instead, he argued that freedom depends on mental orientation and escaping internal slavery. As Seneca put it, “Freedom is the prize we are working for—not being a slave to anything, not to compulsion, not to chance events, making fortune meet us on a level playing field.” It is perhaps heady stuff for 10- and 12-year-olds, but our discussions lead me to make an enthusiastic recommendation to read Enchiridion.

Here are some of experiences and observations Lydia, Grace, and I made from our reading:

There wasn’t much discussion during the first two chapters, but then we reached #3. Here’s how it reads: “When you kiss your little child or your wife, say that you are kissing a human being. Then, if one of them dies, you will not be troubled.” There was a brief pause before Grace yelled, “What?!” Lydia immediately chimed in, “That’s not right!” And from there, the discussion was on.

I explained to the girls that they  would encounter endless ideas in their lives that they disagree with and endless people who believe those ideas. But our response cannot be to yell at them and simply tell them they’re wrong. So we need to think how we’re going to respond. I then asked them to try to explain to me why they disagreed with the idea and what they believed as an alternative. The details of the conversation are less important than the method of discussion. The girls calmed themselves and considered the merits of what Epictetus wrote versus what the girls believe, and that type of thinking set the stage for our discussions throughout the rest of the book.

Soon after, we read how Epictetus treats divine power. He describes people as actors in a play cast by a cosmic director. It is our duty to play that role as best we can, even if we have been cast as a cripple or a beggar. Not only did this analogy lead to great discussion on accepting the things that are out of our control, but it also prompted Grace to ask, “is all religion opinion?”

Of course, she asked her question shortly before 9:00, when it was time to shut down for the night. But sometimes conversations are more important than sleep. We discussed faith, reason, evidence, and I enjoyed their expanse of follow-up questions. My sense is that adults discuss questions like these far too rarely and—when they do—it’s more likely to be late at night at the bar rather than with sober judgement and reflection. It is challenging for people to figure out what they believe, but it is far heavier lifting to figure out the why behind beliefs. I cannot predict what Lydia and Grace will choose to believe and follow in their lives, but my hope is our discussions today will give them a selection of tools to sort through ideas as they mature.

One theme that we continued to revisit is essentially AA’s Serenity Prayer: accepting what we cannot change, pursuing the things we can, while discerning the difference between the two. Epictetus put it this way: “Many things in this world are not up to us. The things that are include our judgment, our motivation, aversions, and desires. Our body, property, and reputation are not our own doing. The externalities of life are always dependent on something or someone else. We should always be judging whether the matters before us are up to us. If not, we can respond with ‘not my business.’” It was this idea that made Enchiridion such a winsome book for me from a parenting perspective. So often, the pain points of middle school circle back to matters that are not up to my daughters. The reality is that children can be cruel, and the convergence of youthfulness, inexperience, puberty, and emerging autonomy makes middle school particularly challenging. Epictetus may not have written a cheat sheet to survive middle school, but he did provide some tools to help maneuver its ills with a bit of wisdom and perspective.

Similarly, this axiom seemed quite compelling for my girls: “If someone in the street were entrusted with your body, you would be furious. Yet you entrust your mind to anyone around who happens to insult you and allow it to be troubled and confused. Aren’t you ashamed of that?” While I wouldn’t have concluded this point with “Aren’t you ashamed?”, I do think Epictetus is correct in how easy it can be for someone else’s words to prompt anger and confusion long after the words are spoken. Tara and I work hard to impart on the girls a need to be considerate and lead well among their peers. As John Donne wrote as he was facing death from typhus, “No man is an island” and if a piece of the continent is washed away, that land is all the lesser for it. It is irresponsible to consider this passage from Enchiridion and harden one’s heart and live in complete disregard to others. Yet living beholden to the opinions and insults of others is like living with wrists bound by handcuffs: yes, you could function but not with any effectiveness. Balance is an important message that we focused on from start to finish.

I’ll conclude with a related lesson that Epictetus offered when considering how to respond to someone who is speaking poorly about you behind your back. His recommended reply was no defense. Instead Epictetus would say, “Obviously he didn’t know my other faults, or he would have mentioned them, as well.” I appreciated that this brand of stoicism came with a dose of amusing snark.

As you might guess from my comments, I recommend Enchiridion (How to Be Free) for people at all stages of life. I will give an extra endorsement to parents who read books with their kids. A.A. Long’s translation is accessible, and each chapter is typically not much more than a paragraph. While the conversations that grew from the text were rewarding to observe, I primarily hope it sets the girls on an improved pathway for thinking well. And if they can add a bit of stoicism to the middle-school environment, I think that’s all the better for everyone.