How then will a child learn social manners? Can we trust the child to develop and mature in her own time, the way we trusted her to learn to walk and to talk? Why are we in a rush to have children behave like adults before they are adults? – from “How Children Learn Manners”, c. Naomi Aldort at naomialdort.com
Recently at a Yahoo group I’m a member of the discussion turned to children and our efforts to teach them “manners”. A group member posted an anecdote that was instantly familiar:
I think our responses to our children often frame how people view them. I went out for a meal with some friends and relatives. We had our 2 children, ages 3 and 6. Another woman had hers, ages 8 and 4.
Our children played with their food, put vinegar on their pizza, got down from their places and went round talking to other members of the group, blew bubbles in their drinks and played with the balloons. None of their behaviour was loud or wild and they were certainly keeping themselves from being bored. I was relaxed with it. No-one from other tables even seemed to notice.
The other mum was feeling much more agitated and insisted on eating “correctly”, not leaving the table, and saying please and thank you. She was quite loud and vocal in telling them off for misbehaving. She obviously wanted people to know that she was trying to discipline her children and teach them right from wrong. Unfortunately all I could see happening was her drawing attention to her kids’ behaviour and framing it as bad. Consequently people were tutting and rolling their eyes and her children became more and more irritable and squirmy.
We were seated quite far apart and I’m not sure she noticed what was going on with mine but I certainly did with hers. I didn’t feel judgmental but it really brought home to me that often people see our children through our reaction to them; yet often we respond to our children out of fear of how others will respond to them.
This brief story resonated strongly with me. Recently I was in a similar setting when several friends and our children met at a restaurant to eat together. I was struck by a difference between two families, an experience similar to the example above. One family did not restrict their children: the kids crawled on the floor, got up from the table, climbed around and laughed and played. The other family required their children to sit still, keep voices low, speak in a “mannered” tone, engage in adult table manners, and refrain from play. The children were all about the same ages, five to eight.
From my end of the table, the family engaged in a high degree of “socializing” efforts looked miserable. The parents were tense and busy, scarcely having time to enjoy the delicious food. Their children’s eyes were downcast and muted and there was an air of strain about the group. In contrast, the children who were running around had a fine time, one which was incidentally non-disruptive. They did not once break anything, get in anyone’s way, or fight. Their parents kept an eye on them in a relaxed fashion but ate their meal and took part in adult conversation. The free children enjoyed themselves immensely. People often tend to think of children as “loud” but I observed the active children’s voices, raised in laughter and imaginative play, had no more actual volume than a neighboring male diner on a cell phone.
The differences between families and experiences was quite striking. I know which parental model I want to model myself on, even if I don’t always live up to my standards.
Of course, it’s not just a matter of personal resources and know-how in raising children without the fearful cling to tight constraints. It is brave of my friends who allow their child the freedom to, you know, be childlike, because since becoming a parent I’ve found many in my peer group (middle-class white Americans) discourage children’s expression, bodily autonomy, authenticity, interests, and activity. In fact children who aren’t behaving according to the soul of adult decorum often get glared at, spoken to rudely, or – even more commonly – silently resented.
The internet age assists us in painting things in black and white. People resent different parenting styles (or their interpretations of them, often erroneous) and quickly want to blame a host of society’s ills on these perceptions of difference and wrongness. People direct their fears, angers, and frustrations in snarky or mean-spirited internet comments or incensed letters to the newspaper editor about “kids today” and their horrid parents. What a loss, since if and when we choose to open discussion with those around us we stand to learn so much from one another. Rarely in public have I seen one adult say to another openly, “I’m uncomfortable with how much your children are climbing around! ” or, “Your parenting techniques are challenging me! We really do things differently!” and then – important! – allowing the other adult an opportunity to respond (your particular language and conversational ice breaker may vary). The few times I have seen an adult brave and open enough to initiate this conversation a wonderful conversation often ensues. These dialogues have the power to instruct, inspire, empower, challenge, and unite us in community and commonality of goals and needs. Most parents love their children very much and want to do what’s right for their family and the larger society as well.
Sadly, these conversations are often avoided. In a seemingly “civil” society where such things are often not discussed instead I feel the “vibe” (yes, this is a real thing), see the glares, hear the passive-aggressive comments. I do not always run across this unpleasantness when we go out in the world, but it is a constant drumbeat nevertheless – displayed not that long ago when my son spontaneously engaged in some athleticism on top of our family car. Conversely, when my kids are “good” I am treated to the compliments and erroneous assumptions I’m raising my kids “right” – i.e. with authoritarian discipline. When my kid are “good” and their behavior commented on (as it often is) I find it funny. I can honestly say we are not an autocratic household and we move further from authoritarian discipline every day. My children are not punished nor badgered by coercive techniques disguised as “loving discipline”. Yet they are turning out well-behaved enough, considerate, direct, and they function well in society. And despite our “radical” parenting they are very normal; in fact they are more likely to be cited as standing out for their directness and competence than anything else. And perhaps most importantly for many parents who are afraid to lift restrictions, they are not the chandelier-swinging, sociopathic Lord of the Flies monkey-children so many believe – and want to believe – is the inevitable result of what is sneered at as “permissiveness” or “unparenting”.
I am glad to have seen the errors of my previous ways. When my children were younger I worried very much about “manners”. I prompted them (“Say ‘please’,” or “Say ‘thank you’!”) and I felt embarassed when they did something socially-deemed as rude or naughty – like yell, or grab a toy from another child, or… hell, that’s about it. I mean how much trouble can a two-year old get up to? Fer crying out loud.
It was a false construct and a rather tribally-defined one. If everyone else is fretting over their toddler’s need to learn to share, then it’s easy to follow suit. It’s also easy to exert your will on a small child (at first). In a way my dependence on focussing my children’s behavior on “manners” was an attempt at control (of course!), an addiction to the ego-boost when said child was praised, genuine worry for their future happiness and function in society (understandable), and, sadly, the deep-down buried resentments from my own upbringing – at home and in society at large. Children are treated as second-class citizens, I see this clearly now. Whatever we consider our spiritual and intellectual leanings regarding peace and force, in our homes so many of us really do behave as if Might Equals Right, and in public other adults – childfree and parents alike – support this concept.
At some point a couple years ago I discovered Naomi Aldort’s article, “How Children Learn Manners” (from which my introductory excerpt hails) and it was one of those brief but life-changing episodes. In this essay Aldort gently but with rapier-sharp awareness deconstructs what we’re really teaching children when we enforce social niceties both in response to social pressure and in lieu of pursuing authenticity. I can imagine some responses of many who are used to treating children more or less as they were raised (that is, using punishments, lectures in favor of example, and coercion). Aldort’s writings may bring feelings of amazement, cynicism, beleaguered perceptions of nit-picking (“OK, now I’m not even supposed to tell my kids to say please? What, is parenting totally hands-off?”), irritation, and of course, deep-down fear and resentment. Yet I am fortunate that when I read this article I saw the wisdom in every point she made, even if at the time I had no idea how I could apply such concepts into practice.
As I alluded to earlier, I was also informed by my own memories of childhood. I remember resenting the concept one should “make nice” rather than be truthful, that there was a hierarchy of needs that put me – as a child – dead last except where it was convenient for the adults in the room, and that really, some people count less than others. I remember being shocked and angry that adults would speak to children using words and a tone of voice that most adults would find infuriating or humiliating. This sense of injustice and injury serves me well now as I have children of my own. I can learn to do things a new way and watch as joy, authenticity, and yes, consensual living, flows through our home. And I can breathe a teeny sigh of relief to see such changes do not bring end-times chaos, knife-fights, or arson.
It’s no surprise, of course, that the family I mentioned above – with the free-range children – is one I want to spend more time with. In our culture, it is hard to find an oasis of awareness and respect afforded to all human beings in the room and in the family. I am comforted to know most families love their children very much, even if their strategies are poor ones. Surrounding myself with mentors who know another way has become a new organizing principle of my life.
yes. a thousand times yes.
We’re still working so hard at this and it’s very slow-going. I still get anxious when out in public with Si, but so much less so than a year or two ago.
More and more I think that despite what we say, our society doesn’t much like children. I’ve been thinking about your posts on kids a lot as my son cruises into toddlerhood, and had his first public meltdown last week. It was interesting to see myself get embarrassed and apologetic to the saleswomen – and then think about something you’d written about Nels in an arcade a while ago. It really got me back on my kid’s side, remembering that he’s still a very new person, acting exactly how very young kids act when they’re tired and upset.
On a friend’s recommendation I checked out a popular book about communicating with toddlers and I was appalled that the author recommends time-outs for even very young kids. It seemed to me that he advocates doing it early to establish dominance, that what the parent says is law. I found myself hard-pressed to think of what I would give a time-out for…he’s one year old…what’s inappropriate? Isn’t he just learning how the world works?
I know the social graces press harder on older kids, but it starts here with the little ones. When the chips are down my husband and I really go around about what he sees as my “hippie, it’s-all-good” parenting style, where I see him falling back on the rigidity he was raised with. Tough stuff, even in my own house.
“I remember being shocked and angry that adults would speak to children using words and a tone of voice that most adults would find infuriating or humiliating.”
I cannot express how much I agree with this point. I may have commented previously on this. It’s rare that I get offended when someone asks me about my daughter’s behavior, but for some reason I get very irritated when they mention how well-spoken she is and then insist that she’s remarkably intelligent. Don’t get me wrong, I think she’s very bright, but I simply tell them, “She speaks like an adult because we speak to her like an adult…and we also listen.” Just simple things like actually listening and answering questions as completely as possible go such a long way. I mean, as an adult, if you asked another adult why the sky is blue and they told you to go play, wouldn’t it make you feel ignored at best?
But y’all know this already or you wouldn’t be here. 🙂 I don’t mean to sound so preachy, I just get fired up.
“…end-times chaos, knife-fights, or arson.”
Are you sure you never lived in AZ and possibly visited my house a time or two when I was a kid? I can’t say for sure about the “end-times chaos” because I’ve never seen end-times (I hope), but the other two were daily activities between me and my siblings.
I’m up way past my bedtime and am afraid I can’t give you the intelligent and well-considered response that this post deserves. But suffice to say, I agree, I aspire to much the same ideals, and I’ve been thinking a lot about your writing and your way of thinking about parenting as my child gets to be more of an independent agent with a will (a mighty will!) of her own to exert in public.
“Rarely in public have I seen one adult say to another openly, “I’m uncomfortable with how much your children are climbing around! †or, “Your parenting techniques are challenging me! We really do things differently!†and then – important! – allowing the other adult an opportunity to respond (your particular language and conversational ice breaker may vary).”
As I read this I immediately thought of something that happened 2 weeks ago. My mom was visiting and we went to the Smithsonian Museum of American History with the 3 kids. Afterwards the girls wanted ice cream/popsicles because it was so hot. So we crossed the street to the National Mall where there was a refreshment stand. I stood in line to get the food and my mom sat on a bench with the stroller because the baby was asleep; the girls were running around, playing – something that should be normal in an outdoor, park-like area. Gwyn was ducking behind a tree and ran out from behind it, toward the street. She didn’t go into the street, but apparently the driver that was going too fast down the street thought she was going to, so she jammed on her brakes and honked her horn. I saw this all happen too quickly to leave the line and be able to do anything and it happened too quickly for my mom to get up. I yelled out to Gwyn and she stopped running. A woman standing behind me (in a Tea Party t-shirt and with a Sarah Palin button on her fanny pack) shouted indignantly, “Who’s watching those kids!!??” I’m pretty sure she was addressing me and I was ticked. She hadn’t made a move to go save my kid from potential danger, or said, “Oh my gosh, is she okay?” No. She immediately assumed I was letting my kids run around without regard to their welfare. I looked right at her and said, “Those are my kids and my mother is watching them. It happened too fast for her to get up.” I wanted to say more, to disparage her for being a reactionary, right-wing idiot but I didn’t. I just looked at her, daring her to say more. She didn’t say anything else but she kept shooting us nasty glances and my mom noticed it and was dying to say something scathing to the woman. My whole problem with it was that she obviously judged me and the situation but clearly could have cared less. Had my child gotten hit by the car she would clearly have blamed me for not having them right next to me, but not have had one ounce of compassion for my kid.
I try so hard to remember that my kids are kids, not little adults. Sitting at a table at mealtime can be hard for kids. I miss living in Germany where it was not uncommon in the restaurants to see kids walking around and being kids. We used to go with our friends and their kids to a Greek restaurant whose staff adored the kids. They had a fish pond inside that had a small bridge over it and the kids were always walking around, playing small games of tag, using the bridge as the safety spot. The waiters simply dodged them as they came through with the food and even talked to them about their games and then gave them lollipops at the end. There are clearly societies and cultures where kids are valued more for being kids.
As an aside, I think that maybe society’s desire (in the US, anyway) for kids to act like little adults sometimes comes out in the clothing available. I have such a difficult time finding age-appropriate clothes for Maeve. At 9, she wears a size 12 jean and a women’s size 6 shoe. It’s hard to find children’s shoes in that size. I don’t want my 9 year-old to wear heels but they seem to not make Mary Janes that come in her size and aren’t boring adult shoes. And I don’t want to dress her like a teenage hooker, so I end up having to make her clothes. That’s fun for me, but I’m sure there are other moms who can’t sew and are frustrated with the choices available. I contrast that with the clothes I was able to get her in Germany, where they seem to value childhood more.
@Carrie
It seemed to me that he advocates doing it early to establish dominance, that what the parent says is law.
Many parents do things this way. They truly believe A. it’s the only successful way, and B. they are doing their children a service.
I am so glad to have seen that “dominance” doesn’t need to be established. I’m glad to have let go my fears. Of course, I am still the family’s leader and this is as it should be. Parents who feel they need to exert “dominance” must not realize just how much power they already have; they wield it like clubs and as long as no one gets TOO bruised and bloody, it must be OK to do so.
That said, it makes many people’s brain asplode, the idea of having a peaceful family without dominance and coercion, etc. Since I live that reality, it doesn’t seem scary to me – but I can see how it is to others.
Oh, and the idea that you are a “hippie, its-all-good” parent? (which your partner may or may not say, but certainly many people mock this supposed style of parenting). That charge does not have teeth unless these same people can also prove you don’t think very hard on your kids’ rights, you don’t tend to their needs (emotional, physical, spiritual, mental, etc), and you don’t have hopes, dreams, and goals of your own. Most parents DO have these qualities. Calling those parents “its-all-good” parents is a fearful response invoked by how much gentle parenting threatens the more typical models of parenting.
@Kidsync
The “praise” our children earn when they are “good” is telling. The implicit assumptions are that A. children need to be either exceptional (as in your daughter’s case, “remarkably intelligent”) or heavily interfered with (by authoritarian parenting) in order to turn out decent. On one hand most people believe children learn by example (if you speak concisely and politely at home, a child will learn to do so). On the other, people do not have much belief in kids’ abilities at all.
Kids scare lots of people who mask it with scorn or derision. It’s also telling people are allowed to say, “I don’t like kids” and it’s supposed to be funny and understandable. I can relate to parts of this sentiment, but lots of adults plant their ass on this mantra and don’t examine Why they don’t like children, and perhaps if they themselves are being part or a larger problem when this goes unexamined.
@JJ
Thanks for your response. I wish I’d figured things out when my oldest was B.’s age. But I didn’t, and I’m figuring it out now. And I hope to help any other parents in any way I can.
@Jen
Important points about both the culture in Germany (and other places) and the reflection in sartorial style. You and I are on the same page in both regards.
I’m sorry for the experience with the woman at the Smithsonian. Those experiences suck because of COURSE you are jarred at the “near miss” (or not even that near, really), and everything flashing through your mind (Um, most parents worry about their children the ENTIRE DURATION of their child’s life!), PLUS the guilty feelings our culture is only too glad to support that your kid even ran somewhere and someone ELSE thought it wasn’t your child’s right. All those feelings and maybe more flash through your mind and it’s painful and THEN some other person says something so hard-hearted, unhelpful, and judgmental. I’m sorry for that.
I would point out by calling her a “a reactionary, right-wing idiot” it would seem you yourself are sitting in judgment a bit. After all, this woman – who showed only judgment and as you say, no compassion – she has her own fears and if we were to know them we could better relate to her. Perhaps like many she is frightened by what she perceives as helplessness and heedlessness in children (kids are neither, but many don’t know that). Perhaps she believes parents really should keep kids right next to them at all times (impractical, stifling, short-sighted, comical, and a denial of the reality: children do grow into adults gradually, not with the POOF of magic fairy dust on their 18th birthday!).
When people do the “who’s watching those kids!” I can usually smile or say, “I have no idea! Sheesh!” and then later my kids run up to me and call me “mommy” and perhaps that person feels a little like an asshole for, as you say, judging yet showing no curiosity nor compassion. Sometimes I smile and say, “He’s OK,” and make eye contact and the person softens. In a case like yours it’s a bad scenario because in that woman’s eye there was “proof” that an accident ALMOST happened (but, it really didn’t – in crowded situations people negotiate their space, as your daughter and the car driver successfully did). Still, any attempt to connect with the person who barked out the judgment will be more likely to soften the moment, for you to go away feeling less raw, and for perhaps that woman to not continue being so unhelpful, judgmental, and non-compassionate.
For all my talk about connection though, I have failed at making it, and I’ve walked away angry. It’s hard.
My whole problem with it was that she obviously judged me and the situation but clearly could have cared less. Had my child gotten hit by the car she would clearly have blamed me for not having them right next to me, but not have had one ounce of compassion for my kid.
Sadly, I think you are right about people like this. And remember: she didn’t judge “the situation”, she judged YOU. BTDT and as much as I’m aware actions like hers are a result of her own fears and anxieties, it still hurts when it happens.
Also: our culture in general does not HELP watch our kids, so for any particular individual to pick on an individual mother (because it’s almost always, always on the mother they will pick) for ANYTHING THAT EVER HAPPENS (an accident or, in your case, a total non-accident), with anger and lack of sympathy? This is where I start to lose my enlightenment and start to feel like: Fuck. Off. If you won’t help, at least don’t be so UNhelpful. Fer realz.
Re: the example restaurant experience… What, did the socialising family think this was: some sort of fine French dining experience or something? Wait, what’s that? It was PIZZA? Probably at, say, your neighbourhood pizza joint? *headpalm*
What adults really need to learn is how to worry a bit less about having children behave like adults – and think about how the adults can behave less like adults too. For all the “manners” romping around today, American society has gotten awfully dull.
And sure, we do have to be mindful that there is a wide range of social situations that all of us generally have to participate in. We do sometimes have to attend black-tie dinners or meet old friends at upscale 5-star restaurants, and must be all “polite” and “civilised” – but these dull, excruciating events are not the things you bring your kids to. (Or if you do, you share with them about the expected social expectations of the restaurant first and let them decide if they want to attend or instead stay home with the babysitter and pizza.) Please do not, however, make these situations your standard “going out” experiences as a family. Going out should be fun (for everybody), and most restaurant management and staff are, in fact, expecting people to have fun.
Jen, I’m so glad you mentioned Germany’s more embracing culture around children. That’s been my experience as well, and many northwestern European countries (like Denmark, Norway, Sweden and so on) are similar.
Carrie, you said: “More and more I think that despite what we say, our society doesn’t much like children.”
I don’t know if it’s so much that our American society just generally doesn’t like children, but that the conceptual range of what we think appropriate and acceptable ‘childhood’ (and its accompanying behaviours) is has narrowed dramatically. We may love kids when they’re in that conceptual sweet spot, but toe the line and all hell breaks loose for them.
And, I suppose, all of this is just to say that if you’re raising kids: come over and move to Europe! Denmark has openings.