Family Metaphor

I've been clearing out boxes of school stuff, and I came across a paper I wrote in 2001 for an Intro to Family Processes class. I thought y'all might get a kick out of the meanderings of my mind 8 years ago...

Family Metaphor

My family is a batch of cookies of all sorts. We are a very random family.

The youngest child, Cari, is a gingerbread girl because sue is always concerned about her shape, and she likes to decorate herself. She is decorated mainly with red hot cinnamon dots, and her dough itself contains a lot of spice. Likewise she has a fiery temper and loves to show off her personal flare. Because her dough is spread a little thin, when it bakes it becomes crusty and hard on the edges, but in the center she is soft, although she doesn't often share her soft side. She tends to push herself the to the outer edge of the cookie sheet and keep at least some distance from the family.

Amy is a peanut butter cookie made with chunky peanut butter. There are a few inconsistencies in the texture, and some parts that are more solid than others. The flavor is distinct, but by no means exotic. It is often overlooked in the grand scope of cookies, but to those who acquire a taste for it, it is just the right blend of sweet and salty. Peanut butter is kind of quirky. Amy stays closer to the middle of the pan than most other cookies, but for the most part she and the other cookies maintain enough personal space that when they spread under heat, they don't touch and fuse.

Nathan, the second child, is a thumbprint cookie (basic cookie dough formed into balls and pressed in the center with the thumb, then filled with jam after baking). From the outside he has high ridges around the edges, but once you've scaled them, you see how incredibly deep he is. He's not an extraordinary cookie in and of himself; what makes him special is the way he helps shape and support and show off the jelly that makes its way inside. I love being jelly. Nathan has a tendency to stay toward the edges of the pan, not by conscious movement, but by nature.

David, the oldest child, is a basic chocolate chip cookie - conservative, consistent, and not flamboyant in the least. Chocolate chip cookies, by virtue of their usual atmosphere (i.e. Grandma's house, the kitchen, etc.), seem somehow more wholesome than more exotic or unusual cookies, even though they are made of the same basic ingredients. Although other cookies are a nice diversion, there is something comforting about coming back to good ol' chocolate chip. Dave tends to hover away from the edges, ready to get involved if necessary, but not in the center by any means.

Dad is no typical cookie. He's a no-bake cookie, kind of splatted on in the middle. He is the most flexible cookie of all, and because of his lack of rigidity, sometimes he goes in several directions at once. The is a little messy at times, and everybody feels it. Likewise, there are parts of everyone in the family that are obviously influenced by Dad. He leaves chocolate "character" spots (or stains, however one chooses to look at them) on each member that are blatant to anyone who knows the family (for example, new neighbors who meet Dad first can tell who his children are by the comments or jokes that they make). He places himself in the middle of our otherwise rather disconnected family and acts as a uniting force.

Mom plays a more fundamental and less obvious role. Mom is the flour in the cookies. She is one of the basic ingredients. Without flour, cookies would be shapeless goo - sugar and fat. Flour is the only nutritionally redeeming factor in cookies. Mom is an essential influence that gives each of her children form and a sense of intrinsic goodness.

The cookie sheet represents the Church (of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints). It is the basis of most of our common convictions. It is strong, stable, and unchanging. Under heat, some children have beat against it at times and have cracked themselves, but its structure remains undented. Without the church and its stabilizing affects, the famly would fall apart and burn (just imagine tossing cookie dough onto a bare oven rack). It gives the family a base, a clean surface to spread out on, and limits and boundaries to stick to avoid unnecessary burning.

We are all basically made of the same ingredients, but we each have a special "spice" or set of characteristics that set us apart. We're random and separate, but we're made of the same stuff and bound somewhat by the sweet and sticky "chocolate" of Dad.