And Zen What

It seems to surprise people when I acknowledge that my kids aren't perfect. Hey, of course they make mistakes, who doesn't? They can be mean, unfair, intolerant, nasty, annoying. My view is that pretty much every human on the planet can be thus described.

And my view of my job is to point out, when they are earning those labels, that there are better ways to deal with whatever they think being mean, unfair, intolerant, nasty and/or annoying will fix. As all parents know, this is not a one time gig. You pretty much have to do a version of this on a daily basis. Anyone who claims their kid is never m-u-i-n-a is in denial, dreaming, or doing drugs.

Uh, that would of course be only my opinion.

We are having a crisis here at the Mom, MOM! ranch. One of the kids participated in something that is pretty much the epitome of mean-unfair-intolerant-nasty. It's very clear that the kid in question did it, and that the "it" in this case is Not Good. But it's also clear--and I have this from a third, concerned, and very honest party--that it wasn't part of anything like a pattern and is almost certainly not predictive of future behavior. (And I'm going to get a third opinion--I do that when I buy a stove for gosh sakes, I'm certainly going to do it for my kid.)

What I'm mulling over right now is the incredible emotional turmoil this event has produced in all the adults surrounding the child. And I'm particularly interested (now that I'm slightly recovered from feeling battered and brutalized and sick with anxiety) in how the so-called adults are behaving. (And I do notice that I do not include myself in the "so-called"--my own denial? I hope not.)

Despite (or not) the omnipresent child education and advice industry, there are still adults--teachers, even--who are operating on an implicit punishment mode--dressing it up in the various rhetorical flourishes that convince them that they are talking about, say, fairness or responsibility (and, by the way, as to those virtues, I just want to say I'm fer 'em). I do understand the impulse. I really do.

But it seems to me that any job connected with children (this includes motherhood, fatherhood, caretakerhood as well as teacherhood) means that for virtually all non-clinical behavior we have to be in "helping the child to learn his way out of this" mode. (And if you get into clinical territory, I imagine that a similar principle applies.)

I struggle with this every day. So much of what we do to teach our kids has an uncanny resemblance to punishment. "You hit your brother? Time out! [Or extra job, or an essay on man's inhumanity to man, or whatever seems to work that week]" "Oh, he hit you first? [Insert indentical punishment, uh, learning device, unless it's a week where identical isn't the best approach.]"

Confusing and ambiguous yes. But there is a difference. It's a resemblance only--punishment is retaliation with an assumption, implicit or explicit, that learning and improvement are not possible. That makes it the worst possible approach to a child, and it is a flatout statement to that child that s/he is bad to the core.

And that, in turn, and paradoxically, is a teaching. But it's teaching the wrong, the most wrong thing--that s/he is worthless, unregenerate, hopeless.

Some of my children are all too ready to hear this kind of message, given their previous life experiences. They are perhaps more vulnerable to such negative teaching than kids who have had smoother lives from birth; I wouldn't know about that, and I'm always suspicious of any such comparisons. All I know is my own kids. Kids are not a generality. Each one is a unique constellation; no "one size fits all" rule will work for all six of mine. In fact, no "one size fits all" rule works from one day to the next on an individual child. A time-in or a time-out, for example, will do the trick one day; the next day the very same child just keeps escalating so I have to try something different.

What's my point? Do I have one?

Yes, I do: adults have to be very self-aware to be effective in teaching and rearing children. Being self-aware is not a character trait. It is a goal, and it has to be worked toward every single day. You don't get there--you just keep working at it, moving toward it.

And I have another point too: what you learn in college, in textbooks, in expert-seminars, in books from Amazon--that's all just background. Muzak for the mind. It doesn't apply to the actual child in front of you. It only helps you know how much territory there is to be aware of while you deal with the actual, particular child looking up at you that moment, that day.

If you ever forget that, and you will, try to turn it into a teachable moment for yourself.

Leave the kid out of it.