It's Not All Bathwater

I have two children. That is, if you only count the ones I carried and gave birth to. I don't stop there, though. I must count those precious ones I have spent hours upon hours with, trying to impart skills and knowledge. In eighteen years and three different teaching positions, they really are innumerable. Innumerable, impulsive, frustrating. Each one so unique, and each one so lovable. Yes, I love my students. Eight years ago, I had a student in my third grade class who had trouble with his behavior. He would disrupt class and talk absolutely nonstop. I began keeping a running journal with him. We would write notes back and forth, and I encouraged him to write down what he was thinking instead of shouting out in the middle of class. I had the journal with me one day at the teacher lunch table. It was open, and I was jotting a response to something the student had written the day before. Another teacher, sitting across from me, pointed to a line higher on the page. Her eyes were wide with shock. "What is that?" She asked. The line she was pointing to read, "I know you can do your best. I believe in you and love you." She then went on to explain that she wouldn't write those kinds of things if she were me. Fortunately, she is not me. I do love my students, and I tell them so.

After all of the years I have worked with children, there is one lesson I have learned over and over, again and again, time after time, and it is this: Each child is so very different from any other. There is no mold, and if there were, not a child on Earth would fit it. It is because of this realization, that I insist on abstaining from the seemingly universal practice of judging the way others parent their children. There is one caveat; if I believe a child is being abused, I will report my observations. Other than that, I am not qualified, nor do I know your child well enough to criticize your parenting or anyone else's. 

There is something else I am very careful about speaking of, too, but I am going to break that personal rule for just a moment. I am usually silent on the subject of corporal punishment, and I believe I have good reason to be. In my experience, there are such extremes in viewpoints on the subject and such an emotional reaction from both sides, I have found it is a pot I do not want to stir. When it comes to my own children, I have used corporal punishment and found it ineffective. However, there is one glaring experience in my teaching career that I will never be able to forget. One of my students was out of control in terms of bullying peers, disrespecting adults, exhibiting angry and defiant behaviors. The child's mother actually suggested paddling. I was stymied by the request, as I had never seen a child paddled in school, I had never recommended it, nor had I heard a parent ask for it. We are in the twenty-first century after all. Nevertheless, our assistant principal decided to take the parent's suggestion. The child received four "licks" at the end of that school day. The only way I can describe the child's demeanor for the rest of the school year is night and day. I have never seen such a change in a child before or since. She was simply a happy kid after that, and, in a very strange and memorable interaction, she actually said to me in a passing comment, "That spankin' saved my life." Yes, this child was an anomaly. Corporal punishment is not always effective. I do not think it should be an automatic fallback consequence for misbehavior in children, or adults for that matter. However, I will always remember that precious child who was helped by it. Bless her.

Many of us have thrown out corporal punishment as an option for disciplining our children. If it doesn't work, why would we do it? I also don't particularly want to hit my children. So let's, for a moment, consider spanking to be like bathwater. The grimy stuff we watch go down the drain and then rinse any remnants of afterward. The waste that people would throw out the window after they finished bathing the baby in the large metal washtub. C'mon, you know the saying. Don't throw the baby out with the bathwater. You've heard it. It means that, just because there's something gross in the washtub, that doesn't mean everything in the washtub needs to be tossed out the window. Just because there is a form of discipline that we find cruel and ineffective, that doesn't mean all forms of discipline need to be thrown out. 

My experience is not that vast, I know this. I will not try to build myself up to be a child expert. I have no doctoral degree, and I haven't written any bestsellers. However, my experience still exists and has value like any other teacher/parent. It is what it is, and I do believe I have learned a few nuggets from it. One of those nuggets, and the reason for this post, follows. I have seen a sort of magic formula when disciplining children. By magic, I mean what it is capable of is nothing short of miraculous. 

Let me warn you, though. It isn't easy. 

It takes time. 

Its effects might not be visible for years. 

In fact, it might be the most time-consuming consequence you can give a kid after misbehaving.

I've heard it scoffed at.

I've seen others roll their eyes when a parent does it.

It has been the cause for derision and criticism possibly as much as spanking, and it is simply this:

Talk to your children.

No, wait. Keep reading.

I don’t mean yell at your kids. I don’t mean scold, lecture, or even reprimand them. This is something else entirely. This kind of talking takes much more effort than scolding. It takes much more thought than reprimanding, and it takes much more love than lecturing.

I mean talk to your kids. Like they are people. Like you like them. Like you really want them to understand what you’re saying. Sit down with them, just the two of you. Turn your phone off. Walk away from the party and find a private spot. Take them out of school early and find a table at Starbucks. Look your kids in the eyes and talk to them, listen to them, take time to answer their questions, explain why you're disappointed in them, and then explain why you're proud of them. Tell them your expectations and then tell them why you have those expectations. Forgive them. Tell them that you forgive them. If you messed up, it’s okay to ask them to forgive you, too.

Reason with your kids as to why what they did was wrong, or hurtful, or dangerous. Think out loud to them, so they know what is going on in the mind of an adult who cares about them.

Be honest about your feelings surrounding the situation. Did they embarrass you? Did you get angry? Do you think you might have overreacted? Tell them how you felt then, and then tell them how you feel now. Then, explain that parents love their child through it all, no matter what the child’s actions are.

Confess misbehaviors from your own childhood and laugh with them if they find the stories funny. Reveal secrets about your life with your parents (using discretion, of course). Did you hear your parents argue? Do you think they were too harsh or lenient with you? Do you feel like you were treated differently than your siblings and it wasn't fair? Do you believe yourself to be the favorite out of your siblings?

Address how other parents might do things differently, and that’s okay. We all have different parenting styles just like we all have different opinions. Admit that you make mistakes and could be wrong about things sometimes.

Talk about their future and what you envision for them. What do you hope the future holds for them?

Talk your kids' ears off. Talk them to death. Talk to them as much as you talked to their mom when you were courting her. Or as much as you talked to their dad when he was courting you. Like they are the most important people in the world. It's not as quick as a spanking or as painless as sending them to their rooms. Yes, it's more complicated than taking away their electronics, and you just might have to miss out on something else you really want to do. It might be awkward at first, and it might be the hardest thing you’ve ever done. But you’re a parent. No one said this was easy.

You may see even more rebellion at first, especially if your kids are older. They might refuse to sit with you and talk. I have heard it said, if you can get a kid walking, you can get a kid talking. Take them to the mall, or the park, or another place where you will have to walk to get around, and use that time to break the ice and gently lead in to discussing behaviors.

When you take the time to talk and reason with your kids, especially after misbehavior or an incident that could have been overlooked, you are communicating to them that someone cares about them, someone supports them, and someone loves them enough to spend time with them. You are also modeling how to think like an adult. You are actually showing them how to think.

I would love to say that I have seen this work countless times. Really, it is only a handful. And I don't mean I have seen a child straighten up their behavior after being spoken to. I think we've all seen a myriad of discipline techniques work immediately and many more go awry. What I mean by I have seen this work, is that I have seen children break rules, and their parents pull them aside to talk to them in private. I have observed it with specific families year after year. Those children. The ones whose parents talked to them the most. The ones whose parents took the time to have meaningful conversations with them. Those children are now adults. Wonderful, calm, caring, nurturing, thoughtful, well-behaved adults. And some of them are also pretty great parents.

I have heard the comment, "They're just kids," when referring to disrespectful, unruly behavior, and I agree! They are just kids. When I make that statement, though, I don’t mean, Eh, leave ‘em alone; they’re just kids. They don’t know any better. Let’s just forget about it. It seems that some people mean this as a way to dismiss and excuse all behaviors with no consequences whatsoever. No, when I say “They’re just kids”, I mean that they are young, impressionable, precious children, looking to us for guidance, for support, and for truth. Just like your children are looking to you for guidance, support, and truth. Please give it to them. You can throw out the bathwater, but save the baby, people. Save the baby.