What would you do if the one thing you have tried to instill in your child suddenly comes to be the focus of his/her rebellion? And you cannot use physical discipline. Why don’t you explore what the top 5 things are that you want to instill in your kids. I want to know what those things are and why. Then give me what will happen, (from a daily and detailed perspective) what you would/will do when your child does the exact opposite of any one of those things. And not some freaking generic answer like, “I would talk to them”.
Remove the focus. Whatever it is, your child is an individual and he or she will either learn it or they will not, regardless of training. Give them something relatively benign to rebel against and give them time. When the time comes for said skill to be applied, you will both recognize it. And even if it has been repeated and enforced and etched into the folds of their consciousness, if it is something that ends up being in opposition to their own personality, they simply aren’t going to practice it.
If I had a list, or a plan, or any particular set of goals to guide my parenting, I would lose my mind. Personally, I don’t function well in structured frameworks, so for me to do anything but improvise my way through parenthood would only bring me and my children suffering when my expectations are not met or exceeded. Just the other day, I was asked what kind of schedule I had my 10 week old son on…I blinked and thought to myself, “Is this person serious?” My response was, “He’s on HIS schedule. He sleeps when he’s sleepy, he eats when he’s hungry.” So essentially, I was admitting that I am on my son’s schedule. That same day, with that same person, a brief discussion concerning family sleeping arrangements was breached. After the word “unhealthy” was used to describe children sleeping in their parents’ bed, I immediately diverted the conversation to less controversial waters. I didn’t want to get into the exhaustive task of explaining my view on cultural differences regarding family and community vary from one society to the next and how those differences, especially in the western world, translate into strange familial conflicts and potentially weakened emotional ties. I simply had no way to defend my rebellious infant son with his stubborn breastfeeding schedule and with is unhealthy sleeping proximity to his two favorite people in the world.
And, after mulling over the question of schedules for a few days after, I realized the only reason my older children are on routines of any kind is because they’re in school now. And the only reason I’m on anything that even resembles a schedule is because of my day job and because of their school hours. I understand the need for structure, schedules, control, and order. Without it, the masses are chaotic. And so, we teach our children to follow the rules, obey those in charge, don’t make waves, blend, conform. And the reasons we teach them to conform is so that they avoid the suffering that comes when you try to live your life against the grain. I place great value on fearlessness, but I love my children. It is a difficult decision. Do I teach fearlessness and subject them to the ensuing struggles, or do I instruct them to live the life less extraordinary in exchange for security and relative safety from punishment or consequence?
In my estimation, the only worthwhile battles to wage on the impressionable and growing minds in my charge are those pertaining to honorable human qualities: compassion, generosity, fairness, honesty to self and others, humility, self-discipline, etc.
I want my children to treat others with dignity and recognize the worth of every human soul.
I want my children to know that giving and receiving are essential to harmony in all relationships.
I want my children to know when they have caused unjust suffering for others, and I want them to know this because they themselves has suffered.
I want my children to believe that even though life is not fair, it SHOULD be and they should partake in making it so.
I want my children to understand their limits and accept them with grace and wisdom.
I want my children to recognize and know love.
I want my children to know their own worth, and fight for its recognition when necessary.
In practice, all these things can translate into infinite scenarios (school fights, bullying, young love, death, inner fears, relationships with others, conflicts at home, observation of world events, etc.) I simply want these things to develop in them over time and through experience. I don’t want to repeat these things to them on a daily basis and I certainly don’t want to grill them as to why each virtue is essential to their development. I have no desire to speak through a screen of hormones, immature limbic systems, or the whining echoes of peers. I won’t win. My voice will only emerge once the veil of naivete has been yanked away by life. And I will be there waiting with counsel and comfort.
All these wants I have for my children are derived from my individual point of reference. That is to say, I am a woman of mixed beliefs and faith. I try, and not always successfully, to live an integrated life. I want my belief structure to guide my values, and I want my actions to follow those values. I also have to come to terms with the fact that I hold a few unconventional values that are not always considered “desirable” in mainstream society. I frequently struggle with deciding whether or not I want to impart these on my children. It can be difficult to want your children to always challenge authority when teaching them to do this will get them into trouble and confuse them as they learn that society expects compliance. It is daunting to tell my daughter “You should never use your hands to hurt people.” when I believe physical self-defense to be a vital skill that all children should learn. I don’t want my children to blindly follow rules or the commands of adults, yet I have given them voices that they often use to question my own authority and wear me down when it fits their agendas. How do I strike a balance between absolute obedience to parent and disregard for absolute authority from others? I don’t know. I’m still experimenting.
As my children are getting older, I find that they mimic all my bad habits. For yucks, here are a few of the more amusing ones: repeating inappropriate jokes they overhear, quoting movies until everyone in the room is sighing with annoyance, talking with their hands, getting withdrawn and angry when they don’t feel they’re being listened to, speaking a little too loudly when they get excited. The only bright side I can see in this mimicking phenomena is that my kids have no illusions about who and what I am. So after pulling my hair out from time to time, I find that if you find it absolutely necessary to impart something to another person, no matter their age, it is best conveyed through self practice. Do not have rigid expectations for any individuals, especially your own children. After the teaching has been insisted upon, they will either be angry or indifferent. Just because a child complies with or rebels against a teaching does not mean that true understanding is playing a part in their behavior. It can happen that the anger turns into a rigid and self-punishing form of compliance. For example, someone raised by an authoritarian parent may, even after feeling distressed as a child, force their own children to stifle emotion, keep a room perfectly orderly, or call everyone sir and ma’am. Or, in an effort to distance themselves from their own past, may opt for a permissive and lax household atmosphere. In either scenario, it is not the individual deciding what is best. It has already been constructed so that either extreme is a form of compliance or rebellion, often to a authority figure that is no longer in play.
It is VERY necessary to tap into your own experiences with rebellion and dissect your own motivations. Examine your childhood and youth with the mindset you possessed then, rather than with your present adult mind. Let yourself remember your anger, frustration, feelings of isolation and hurt. Only then, in experiencing those lonely emotions of the past, will you even have a chance at building compassion and empathy for your child’s inner world. Let them be. However, with teenagers, letting them make a fool of you or lose control of your emotions is the best way to lose their respect, and thusly, their attention (just a tip I learned from working with teenaged girls who were on probation). It’s a chess game. A game of wits and a calm mind. They only need know they are playing with a worthy adversary.
Here is a passage by Kahlil Gibran, whose message I try to invoke when dealing with my own or others’ children:
And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said, ‘Speak to us of Children.’
And he said:
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable
Khalil Gibran
