When we give birth to a child, we also need to cultivate the village of adults that will help us raise them. This community may consist of daycare workers, teachers, coaches, instructors, and extended family. This is critical as children flourish in environments where there is a seamless connection or invisible matrix of adults surrounding them. The challenge is that parents can’t leave this formation to chance; they must introduce and matchmake one’s children to the adults who are responsible for them.
Matchmakers are agents of attachment who are not afraid to take the lead in fostering human connection. While the word matchmaker is usually associated with romantic relationships or business partnerships, it serves another role when it comes to caring for kids. Matchmakers connect two people who are unknown to each other and foster a sense of relatedness.
Why is matchmaking so important? Children have natural shyness instincts that move them to resist contact and closeness with people they are not attached to. As an attachment instinct, shyness ensures that a child follows, obeys, listens, and shares the same values as the people they are closest to. Children should naturally shy away from people who have not been sanctioned by their closest attachments.
When we look for people who will help us care for our children, we consider many things – such as their background, training, facilities, and demeanour. But one of the most important things to consider is whether we can foster a caring relationship between them and our child. If children, especially young ones, do not feel at home in their adult relationships, they will be difficult to care for and may turn to their peers over their adults in terms of connection.
Five Ways to Play Matchmaker
The essence of matchmaking is being able to introduce a child and adult in a way that engages their attachment instincts and desire for contact and closeness. There are a number of strategies one can employ as a matchmaker; yet, it is as much about the science of attachment as it is the art of cultivating relationships.
- Take the lead.
To be a matchmaker, a parent needs to feel empowered in this role and be a little arrogant that they are the answer to ensuring two people have a relationship. For example, at a dentist or doctor’s office, a parent needs to take the lead in introducing their child. When we have the attachment lead with a child, we need to guide them to other caring adults and show them we approve of the connection. We can’t assume that adults will collect our kids and start building a relationship with them. If we allow others to do the introductions for us, we are not in the lead. We were meant to point out to our children the people we believe to be their best bet for leaning upon.
- Look for sameness and similarities.
One of the ways children feel connected to adults is through sameness, meaning they feel they have something in common with them. Being the same as someone is not as vulnerable as having to share your secrets or heart. As matchmakers, parents need to work to prime the relationship, pointing out similarities and working hard to highlight areas of likeness. For example, one mother said her four-year-old was having a hard time settling into kindergarten so she approached his teacher for help.
“I spoke with the teacher the other day about bringing my son in early so he could settle in when there was no one else around. He seems to be anxious when things are busy so we left early to get him there before all of the kids started trickling in. We then packed his dinosaurs to bring to school and spoke about how wonderful it was to bring things to share with his teacher and friends. His teacher noticed his tote when he walked in the class and asked questions about it and that seemed to make him super happy! And then they walked to the carpet and set up his toys. I gave him a high 5 and said his teacher and friends were going to be super happy to see what he brought! He then turned to me and waved goodbye!!! No tears, no fuss!”
There are many ways to draw out similarities, from talking about similar interests and experiences, to discussing similar desires. When kids feel that they have something in common with people that care for them, they are more likely to be more receptive to their care. The challenge is that a sense of sameness is often easier with their same-aged peers, and those peer relationships could come at the expense of their relationships with adults. This can lead to a host of problems including peer orientation where they are more influenced and take direction from their friends rather than adults.
- Foster a sense of approval and connection between the adults.
When a parent demonstrates that they like another adult, a child will often follow their lead. On an instinctive level, the child’s brain says, “If you like this person then I will like them, too.” When they see us expressing warmth, delight, and enjoyment to another person, they are likely to follow our lead. This requires us to be thoughtful in our conversations regarding the adults in their life and ensure what they hear preserves these relationships. For example, when a child has a new teacher it will be important to express approval and interest in this person, encouraging a child to share their daily experiences with them. It is important to not judge what these adults do in front of the child, as we will run the risk of thwarting their relationship. If conversations are required regarding the child, it is best if these take place in the child’s absence.
- Create routines and rituals to foster connection.
Creating a culture of attachment is best done through routines and rituals. Routines are great at orienting kids to the transition between their adults such as at drop off and pick up. This could include a standard hello as well as some simple conversation about every-day events like the weather or plans for the day. When a parent feels the child has connected to the adult they can say their goodbyes and leave swiftly. Hanging around to talk or prolonged goodbyes often agitate young children as they don’t know who they should orient to.
One father told me that his drop off included pretending he was a knight and telling his four-year-old that, “The warm-hearted maiden, Angela, will care for you in my absence. You are in good stead with her, my son.” With a bow to Angela and his son he left promptly. His son looked forward to each morning’s goodbye and Angela felt empowered in her caretaking role.
Rituals foster connection and a sense of community – from celebrating holidays to special occasions. When children see adults sharing food, eating meals together, gathering, playing games, or going on outings, the sense of being cared for by a village is further highlighted. For young children, gradual entry and school orientations are also important rituals that allow a child to warm up to a teacher or daycare provider and feel comfortable with them.
- Maintain a hierarchy of attachments.
It is fine to introduce children to many adults as long as we keep their attachment hierarchy in place. The parent(s) need to be at the top of the hierarchy with all other adults falling under them. To ensure this, a parent needs to explain to whom a child should go to for help when needed.
If a child sees a parent being reprimanded, dismissed, or treated poorly by other adults, it can threaten their attachment hierarchy with the parent at the helm. If a parent needs support, then it is best to provide it in a way that preserves the parent’s role in the eyes of a child. Admonishing parents in front of their child can hurt a child in the long run. They need to feel and believe their parents know how to care for them, even if the parent needs support in being able to do this.
Hellos and goodbyes can be provocative for kids, but they are made less so when kids feel connected to adults at each of these junctures. We can’t blame our kids for missing their favourite people, but we can help them feel at home with other caring adults. What children need most is a network of caring adults. If we devote even half of our energy to this instead of focussing on peer-to-peer relationships, we could build a seamless attachment matrix around them.
Parents need to play matchmaker and introduce one’s children to the supporting cast of adults that will help raise them. Children shouldn’t have to question who is caring for them. They need to be free to play and focus on learning about who they are and what they can do.
This is a story about defensive blindness – insights thanks to Butterscotch the alpaca, a garage door, and a haircut.
Every morning our alpacas move from the front field to the back. When we first took over the herd, they would follow our lead. We would open the first gate and they would follow us as we walked (or sometimes ran, in order to stay in the lead) through the back gate and into the back field.
It didn’t take long, however, for the alpacas to master the routine, to the point where our guiding presence was no longer needed. Once that first gate was opened, it was Game On, and they would rush past to get to the grass on the other side.
It came to our attention one day that while six of the alpacas managed to run directly to the other field, Butterscotch seemed to be missing the passage way and heading straight into the garage door! We observed this for a few days in a row, watching him run into obstacles, falter, and gradually find his way back. From our vantage point it looked like he was running into the garage on purpose. But we knew that didn’t make sense.
We guessed that maybe there was something wrong with his eyes, so on the next morning herd we attempted to step in just before he hit the garage. My husband kept him firmly in a tackle hold (alpacas, by the way, do NOT like to be held!) while I looked for signs of what was wrong.
It didn’t take long to realize the problem. Butterscotch needed a haircut! His fibre (the alpaca version of hair) had grown right over his eyes, making it tricky to see anything. The poor guy had been bumbling about in his alpaca world, trying to find his way to the field or to the hay, and not always succeeding.
The solution was clear. He needed a haircut and there was no time like the present. It didn’t matter that my hair-cutting skills left much to be desired – it needed to be done and I was in the best position in that moment. Scissors were found, and while my husband worked hard to keep him still, I attempted to free Butterscotch’s eyes.
It wasn’t the prettiest haircut, but I don’t think the alpaca minded a bit. He seemed to give a shudder of relief as he broke free and ran off – this time in the right direction. Crisis (and vet bill) averted, we too breathed a sigh of relief.
While I thought about what had transpired with Butterscotch and his apparent blindness, it brought to mind something I had observed in humans. I thought of some of the youth I’d observed at school who would literally walk into trouble, just as Butterscotch walked into the garage door. They didn’t see what they were walking into because they couldn’t read the cues. They didn’t read the lack of invitation in someone’s eyes or voice, or the hints in body language, and so they would forge ahead where they weren’t invited and find themselves in situations that were awkward for those around them. Inevitably they would find themselves in trouble – either literally or figuratively. Maybe you’ve seen this, too.
However, while Butterscotch’s blindness came from the hair growing over his eyes, the same could not be said for the students I observed. This was coming from a different place. Something internal. It was still a kind of blindness, but rooted in defense. Basically the brain was blocking out anything that it deemed too hard to look at, too vulnerable, or too alarming. Like Butterscotch’s hair in front of the eyes that prevented key things from being seen, our natural defense system can inhibit what we take in from our world. It interferes with what we feel, or our ability to tune in to what is in front of us (sometimes for very good reason!). And this can look like blindness.
So if a child’s brain has tuned out a failing grade, or a lack of invitation, then it doesn’t sink in. It doesn’t register. And the child remains blind. While this helps them function in a wounding world, it can make certain things more challenging: their attention may be scattered; things may be awkward socially; they may run into more trouble than a garage door. And, unfortunately, in this case a haircut won’t solve the problem.
The way through defensive blindness is to come alongside the child, the adolescent, or even the adult, and do what the brain is trying to do – to protect and to make things safe. These children need a shield from all the incoming arrows that are too much to bear; at the same time, they need a safe place to help them see, and sit with, some of the difficult stuff, in a way that feels do-able and not over the top.
In a context of connection and within the safety of our shield, we can help them tune in, ever so gently, to the situations that are hard to face and to the emotions that are hard to feel. We can find ways to bring the alarm down in their world. We can look for where they are facing too much separation from the people and things they are attached to, and find ways to reduce that separation. We can find ways to help them release some of the built up emotional energy – the frustration and the alarm. In fact, all of these things are helpful for any child, regardless of age, not just for those whose defense system is working overtime.
It is tempting, though, just to give them a haircut. A haircut would be so much easier.
I used to think the mother in me was born when I had my first child. My first thought waking up after her birth was, “I’m a mother now.” My next thought was, “Where is my baby?!” When we assume responsibility for raising a child, the ignition of strong emotions such as alarm, joy, anticipation, and apprehension all serve to signal something significant is underfoot. Our attention becomes preoccupied, if not hijacked, by all matters related to care-taking. Despite the feelings of caring and responsibility that sink deeply into us, it is not our child’s arrival that gives birth to the mother in us.
You might think that finding out one is pregnant or deciding to adopt a child is the birthplace of motherhood. While we may make a commitment to have a child, it is not here where we first discover mothering. And for those who were robbed of holding their babies through miscarriage or illness, the instincts to mother did not disappear with these losses, either.
The capacity to mother – to care, protect, nourish, guide, and to cherish someone are first revealed in the hours we spent in play as a child. It is here where we practiced protecting our babies, animals, younger siblings, insects, inanimate objects. It was in our play where we experimented with what it means to be responsible and to step into a caretaker role. It was in our pretend world, created from our imagination and emotion, that we took our first steps towards revealing the mother in us.
Despite the parenting we may have received, it was in play where our instincts and emotions to care for another were preserved and nurtured. It is in play where we were free to make mistakes, to get frustrated, and to walk away from it all. Play provided a rehearsal space where no one was really hurt or ever worried if we got it right. No one was really judging our actions, nor did we believe knowledge was required to take care of something. In play our care-taking was innate, instinctive, and lacked words or insight – it was just in us.
In play the mother in us was drawn to the surface but when a ‘live’ or ‘real’ child was handed to us, this play stopped and the work of mothering began. The ability to make mistakes became too costly, as did one’s ‘take-it-or-leave-it’ stance. But as we turned ourselves over to the work of mothering, we somehow became disconnected from the instincts and emotions that guided us once so freely in play.
Perhaps it is because giving ourselves over to motherhood has the power to strike fear into our hearts and stir up feelings that we are not good enough, or that we don’t know enough, or are not ready for it all, or we feel at loss for answers. Perhaps it is because being a mother feels all too real sometimes. Just ask the mother worried about her child being bullied at school, or the mother of a child who is sick and needs care, or the mother who watches her adult child leave home to venture out on their own. It sometimes feels like too much when you have had little sleep, have outside work responsibilities to ‘balance’ with home, or when your child is having a tantrum when you want one of your own.
When we played at mothering, it was okay to perform and to take for granted that things would work out. In play we never had to commit, and it never felt so raw or real. What mothering requires us to do is to claim our rightful place in our child’s life with pride, confidence, and vulnerability.
The good news is that the mothers in us were born long ago and the instincts and emotions that guided us in play can lead us today. What our children need is already inside of us to give. It is in the transition from ‘mothering play’ to ‘mothering reality’ that allows the caretaker in us to arrive in solid form. It is when we accept the emotions that come with being a caretaker that our shape solidifies and our identity is transformed in the process.
Being a mother is not about the performance we give, but something that should come from deep from within us. We cannot find the mother in us by following someone else’s directions, mantras, or by pretending that we are in the lead. All the time we look to the external world to steer us, we do not find what is already within. While the mother in us was born in play, it is with our children that we become the caretaker they need. Mothering must rise up in us, not be scripted onto us.
We are made into mothers when we vulnerably accept the emotions and feelings that come with this role. There will be frustration to joy, apprehension to exuberance. It is these feelings that will wash over us, turn us upside down, inside out, and that share at their core the power to transform us into the mothers that only our children can make us.
To all the mothers that feel the weight of the reality that comes with this role, this is not a mistake in you, nor does it mean you are doing it wrong. When mothering isn’t a mask or a performance you put on, you will feel much and it can feel messy. But it is from these instincts and emotions where your children will be nourished from the deepest of wells. Yes, you will be tired, and yes, it will feel too much sometimes, but what I know about ‘mothering wells’ is this – somehow you find a way to dig a little deeper.
One of the most common questions I am asked about relationships is whether a child can be too attached? There is a general fear and persistent myth that if we focus on building relationships with our kids, we may hinder their grow as independent and self-sufficient beings. There is a paradoxical relationship between attachment and separation which isn’t often understood. Attachment doesn’t slow down growth, it fuels it.
When you consider the big picture, the ultimate goal in raising a child is to help them become their own separate person. We should want them to have their own mind, set their own goals, form their own reasons, make their own decisions, think for themself, know their boundaries, and create their own intentions. What we really need to be asking is what do we need to do to make sure our kids grow like this?
Young kids under the age of three routinely cling to their parents. They may chase after them, cry when they are not near, and be unhappy when they have to share their parent’s attention with others.
Young children are hungry for attachment because they lack self-sufficiency and are highly dependent on us for care-taking. By the time they reach five to seven years of age, they should be able to play more freely on their own, take responsibility for simple things like getting dressed, and even start to do chores such as cleaning up their toys.
Children can’t be too attached, they can only be not deeply attached. Attachment is meant to make our kids dependent on us so that we can lead them. It is our invitation for relationship that frees them to stop looking for love and to start focusing on growing.
When kids can take for granted that their attachment needs will be met, they are freed to play, discover, imagine, move freely, and pay attention. It is paradoxical but when we fulfill their dependency needs, they are pushed forward towards independence. As a child matures they should become more capable of taking the steering wheel in their own life and we will be able to retreat into a more consulting role.
Whenever children can take for granted their attachment needs will be met, they will no longer be preoccupied with pursuing us. In other words, when you can count on your caretakers, you no longer need to cling to them. Kids who are clinging to us when they are no longer preschoolers may be doing so out of insecurity. It is security in the attachment relationship that frees children and allows them to let go of us. Attachment isn’t the enemy of maturity, but insecure relationships will be.
What are some of the signs a child is working at attachment?
The prerequisite for growth is resting in the care of an adult. In other words, a child shouldn’t have to work for love. There are many ways kids can work at getting their relational needs met, with the following just a sample of some of the ways.
- A child works at trying hard to fit in, to belong, to be good enough, and to measure up;
- When a child is self-deprecating or tries to be favourable towards others so that they will be liked;
- If a child works at getting attention, e.g., class clown, and seeks approval and significance, works to matter, to be loved, recognized, or being special in some way;
- Sometimes the child works at being pretty, smart, avoiding trouble in order to be liked or loved;
- Bragging, boasting, and being overly competitive in order to gain superiority can reveal a child’s inherent insecurity.
For a child to rest in someone’s care it means they need to be able to take this person’s relationship for granted. When kids feel they matter just as they are, they don’t have to alter themselves in order to work for love.
How can adults work at attachment so that kids will not?
We need to take the lead to keep our kids close, to show them affection as appropriate, to pay attention to them, and to provide an invitation for relationship that is unconditional. When we let them know their behaviour is not okay, we can also make sure they understand that the relationship still is.
The biggest thing we need to do is to make sure their hunger for relationship is always outmatched by their faith in us to provide for them. They must trust in our capacity as a provider and not feel like they have to pursue us in order to make sure their needs are met.
The goal is to be both caring but firm while inviting our kids to depend on us. There are a few things we can do that make a significant difference this way:
- Make it safe for them to depend on us by not using what they care about against them (e.g., sanctions and withdrawing privileges) or forms of separation-based discipline such as time-outs or ‘1-2-3 magic;’
- We need to earn their trust by being consistent in our care-taking, as well as being generous with our attention and signs of warmth, delight, and enjoyment;
- Take the lead in conveying we can handle them and whatever comes with this, including tantrums, resistance, and opposition;
- Be the one to comfort, guide, protect, and hold onto them;
- Don’t meet their demands, but meet their needs instead;
- Arrange scenarios where they have to depend on you including outings or teaching them a hobby or skill.
Children don’t need to be pushed to separate or to grow up. What kids need most are deep relationships and to be freed from their hunger for connection.
One of the most challenging and crucial questions of our time is why some bounce back from adversity, seemingly unscathed, while others fall apart and become emotionally distraught and dysfunctional.
Once upon a time and not too long ago, the dominant idea regarding stress was that it was what happened to us that told the story. Sexual abuse had its consequences. Trauma had its crippling effects. Divorce had its fallout. Stress, in sufficient amounts, would lead to our undoing. The corollary to this idea is that good experiences (or the absence of adversity) would ultimately lead to emotional health and well-being. It turns out that neither hypothesis holds water. There are too many exceptions to create a rule in either case.
What has become apparent is that it is not what happens to us – good or bad – that explains how we are ultimately affected, but rather something about ourselves that sets the stage for the story that unfolds. But what is this ‘something?’ Do some have it and others not? Or does everyone possess it, but it somehow needs to be activated for the potential to be realized?
The pieces of the puzzle are finally coming together, and the answer lies in this remarkable human attribute called resilience: the ability to bounce back. Resilience is the ultimate good news story – telling us that stress in itself is not the enemy and that we need not be brought down by the circumstances in our lives. After years of mistaken emphasis on the stress part of the equation, the focus is now on uncovering the keys that can unlock the amazing human potential to grow through adversity, to thrive under duress, and to bounce back from trauma.
Resilience is probably the most important topic of our time. It holds the answers to emotional health and well-being, mental illness, healing and recovery, prevention, addiction, and much more. Not only is resilience the best overall prevention, but also the best focus for intervention. Resilience should be everyone’s concern – not only the medical and helping professionals, but also educators, parents, and society at large. Resilience is about ourselves and those we are responsible for.
The implications are profound. Instead of treating trauma, disorder, and illness, we should be focused on restoring the capacity for resilience. Instead of worrying about what will befall us or our children, we should nurture resilience as our best insurance for their well-being in a world that we cannot control.
So how do we nurture this attribute in ourselves, in our loved ones, in our students, and in our clients? Everything depends upon knowing what resilience actually is, what it looks like at rest and at work, and how to set the stage for this transformative process.
Although the human capacity for resilience is remarkable, it is also somewhat mysterious and even luxurious. Resilience is spontaneous, but certainly not inevitable. Everyone possesses the potential for resilience, but only some come to realize it. It cannot be commanded and is not a skill to be learned. Resilience is not genetic and there is no pill that can deliver it. Resilience, therefore, lies outside the parameters of both of the prevailing approaches for explaining human behaviour – the medical disease model, as well as the learning paradigm.
So where does resilience come from and how are we to make sense of it? Surprisingly, the answers lie in fresh understandings of emotion, feelings, play, and rest. These pivotal factors have unfortunately been eclipsed by the prevailing focus on symptoms, syndromes, and stress, as well as problem behaviour and dysfunction. The story of emotional health and well-being is not about what has happened to us but rather about what hasn’t happened within us.
I shall try to tell the story in a nutshell, although I much prefer the space of a course to flesh it all out, or at least a keynote to set the stage. The story of resilience starts with an understanding that optimal functioning is characterized by a sense of playfulness, restfulness, and feelingfulness. (I’ve made up that word because we desperately need a construct like this.) The problem with stress is that it typically robs us of these elusive states. So how are we to recover these qualities once they have been lost? The answer to that question is the holy grail of healing, recovery, and emotional well-being.
When the dots are joined, it appears that the return of these qualities can only happen when we have sufficient access to our sadness, some safety, and enough inner strength to not run away from adversity. Of crucial importance is the understanding that we are much more likely to sense these things when in a context of safe relationship or in true play. But the story doesn’t end here. Resilience, it turns out, requires us to take an emotional journey – a trip, as it were, through the metaphorical seasons of an emotional Fall, Winter, and Spring. The secret of the emotional bounce-back is in the emotional let-down that precedes it. We only lighten up once the heaviness has been somewhat embraced. Our challenge, therefore, is in the preparation for this journey, as well as in giving the support it requires.
In a world where we cannot control what happens, nothing could be more important than resilience – when we’re caring for our students, our clients, our loved ones, and ourselves.
Part II: Digital Behaviour Management Systems
As I deepen my knowledge and understanding of the optimum conditions for helping our children reach their full potential, I have come to realize that development comes in a context of rest. Recent research on the importance of sleep serves to support this conclusion. The Neufeld developmental paradigm reminds us that children can be at rest only when they can count on the adults in their lives to care about them unconditionally and to take charge of them and keep them safe.
It is coming from this perspective that I have become very concerned about a new development in classroom management, that is, the emergence of digital behaviour management systems. Without reference to any specific one, I want to alert those working in schools to some unanticipated side effects that would warrant a re-examination of the use of these programmes.
It is understandable that when teachers are faced with an unruly and difficult-to-manage group of students they want to find an effective and fast-acting solution. After all, if students constantly interrupt, don’t follow directions, and frequently bother other students, teaching becomes nearly impossible.
These digital behaviour management systems are relatively easy to use. They usually allow teachers to use their smart phones and/or Smart Boards to track children’s behaviour in the classroom, and they have many features that make them very attractive to adults and students alike. In the short-run, teachers see results quite quickly as their students respond to the immediate feedback about their behaviour and the rewards given. And so their popularity has dramatically increased as teachers share with each other their satisfaction with this new intervention.
There are aspects of these programmes that I find of interest. Teachers can use them as a way to securely share with parents photos and videos of the activities that they are doing with their students in class. Parents appreciate the fact that they can “see” what their child was doing throughout the day. And these photos and short videos can be great discussion starters between parent and child.
However, there are other features of these programmes that are of concern, even though on the surface they may seem to be simply an extension of common classroom management strategies, i.e. positive reinforcement systems for encouraging appropriate classroom behaviour. Behavioural and learning theorists have long advocated that if we wish to change a child’s behaviour, this happens best with immediate feedback and positive reinforcement of the desired behaviours.
When using one of these systems to “enhance” student behaviour in the classroom, the teacher can record when she notices the child using the expected behaviour by tapping on the child’s name, or in some cases, a “persona,” as she circulates in the classroom, smart phone in hand. By using a smart phone, the teacher is able to provide frequent and consistent feedback on the targeted behaviours. The results are recorded on a digital chart, which at times is made public on a Smart Board, so that at the end of the day each child knows how many times he or she used the expected behaviours. This information can also be shared with parents via their phones.
Initially, when these programmes are used, the children are entranced by their persona (if that is part of the programme) and they enjoy being acknowledged for their behaviour and seeing their points appear on the Board. Children are encouraged to try harder each day to earn as many positive points as they did the day before. And many try to do as well or better than their classmates. In some systems, children can trade in their points for tangible rewards. And, so, of course, behaviour in the classroom improves. The children become more conscious of the expected behaviours and engage in them to receive external acknowledgement and rewards. The classroom environment improves and the teacher now believes that he or she can start teaching again.
But let’s take a more in-depth look in what else might be happening.
One of the features making a system like this so attractive is that the teacher can monitor and give feedback on behaviour from any spot in the room or the school and in the moment when it happens.
I ask myself, “How well would I perform if I knew someone was watching me and recording how well I did all the time?” Even if I could “get it right,” how much effort would it take and how would I feel? Think back to the last time that you noticed a police vehicle following you. All of a sudden you started to focus on all the tiny and specific aspects of good driving behaviour. It was exhausting, even if that is how you normally drive. When the police vehicle turned away, what a huge sense of relief. Is this how the students feel when their behaviour is continually being monitored, recorded, and reported?
The child in such a classroom is now very aware of what behaviour is expected, and wishing to be “acknowledged” will put a lot of effort into acting in a way that will get noticed by the teacher. But our brains are not all that great at multi-tasking. When children focus energy on acting appropriately, it is likely that they will have less energy to engage in real learning. They may look more engaged in the task assigned, but are their brains fully engaged in the learning process?
Even though teachers assure us that they are only recording and reinforcing expected behaviours, children are very aware of how much more they could do; of how others are doing, and of what is expected of them. Even our “good” children, for whom behaving appropriately is usually not a problem, become worried about not doing well enough.
What if a child is having a bad day (they are tired, feeling sick, were just rejected by a friend)? What if a child is immature and over-reactive and finds the behavioural demands of a full day in school overwhelming? What if a child is trying very hard and the teacher doesn’t notice? What if a child consistently receives fewer points than her classmates? And, ultimately, what happens when this information is given to the parents?
Now, instead of a “happy face” that summarizes the day, Mommy and Daddy can know exactly how many times the child behaved appropriately. A child said to his mother, “Mommy, I could have gotten 45 points today, but I only got 35 points. Can you still love me?” Of course, his parents were appalled that their child thought that he had to earn their love by his “good” behaviour. However, this response is not surprising to a developmental theorist. Humans are wired to be sensitive to disruptions in their attachment relationships. When we put a lot of emphasis on how we want a child to behave, it is natural that the child will focus on the obvious and come to believe that his or her behaviour has a significant effect on the quality of the relationship.
Of greater concern is that communication with parents can also be about what is not going well. Some systems allow a teacher to digitally alert a parent via their smart phone or computer when their child has behaved “inappropriately” as soon as it happens. Imagine knowing that your parent is aware of your “inappropriateness” at 10 a.m. and that you still have a whole day to get through. For the immature and/or over-reactive child, or even for a well-behaved child, this is very distressing.
Now think about how the parent must feel, knowing that their child is in “trouble” at 10 a.m. Often the context is not reported and so the parent can only imagine the worst. They spend their day ruminating about what else they need to do to “fix” their child.
Both parent and child are in a state of alarm, a state which is difficult to tolerate. This can lead to frustration, which can lead to eruptions (both child and adult). Children who can hold themselves together at school will often have long and prolonged tantrums at home. Others, fearing the reaction of their parent, will erupt at school. Because the message has been transmitted via the smart phone, other school personnel, who are unaware of this previous communication, might not understand why the child is blowing up in response to what seems to be a simple request or a simple denial. The real reason is that the child has been worried for hours about their parent’s reaction to what happened earlier in the day.
To those in the helping professions, I would like to suggest that if a parent comes to see you with a child who seems to have just recently become significantly more anxious, it may be helpful to ask if one of these systems is being used in the classroom. I have heard of children who, especially on Sunday nights, have trouble falling asleep, experience nightmares, have a recurrence of bed-wetting, and other symptoms indicative of alarm. Some children are able to voice their worry about not being able to “behave well enough” in the coming week, but many children cannot. Nevertheless, their behaviour is indicative of an increase in alarm that may well be based in what is happening in their classroom.
Ultimately, we need to ask ourselves if this focus on “good” behaviour is in our children’s best interest. Can positive reinforcement really grow a brain up? Is a constant preoccupation with getting a recognized for behaving well conducive to learning in the classroom? How can a child rest in adult relationships when everything that they do is being continually monitored and reported?
Is this what was intended? I don’t think so, but unfortunately many who work in schools are noticing an increase in alarm, agitation, and anxiety. It is ironic that an intervention that was meant to improve the classroom environment seems to be having this unintended side effect.
There are no easy answers. Growing children up requires the patience of a gardener. Just as with the tomato plant, whose flowers are yellow and spikey but whose fruit is round and red, we must believe that given the right conditions – strong, safe, generous attachments with caring adults – children will ultimately grow into mature human beings. They need rest in order to grow and they need to be able to make mistakes. Let’s find better ways to help them to manage the behavioural expectations of school.
In my next editorial, I will share interventions that are being used by teachers and schools who are using a developmental approach for helping their students.
Part I: Using the Agenda
I have spent over 40 years working in schools supporting administrators, teachers, and staff who devote their lives to educating our children. In my role as a school psychologist I am often asked to help with children who are having difficulty behaving.
Over the span of my career, I have advised many different kinds of interventions, of which many were really not very effective. Over time, my thinking has changed, and I now base my interventions on an attachment-based developmental approach that is informed by neuroscience and an understanding of the importance of good relationships for optimal development.
Through that lens I re-examined some of the most commonly used behaviour management strategies being used in schools and have come to see that some of them cause more problems than they resolve.
From a developmental perspective, I have come to see chronic “inappropriate” behaviour as a sign that the child is experiencing difficulty in certain aspects of his development, indicating emotional immaturity. Or, that the child is being affected by life circumstances over which he has little control and which are causing him to become over-reactive to situations that most children can handle. In both of these circumstances, these children will not be able to correct their behaviour by “trying harder.” As a result, for many years now, I have discouraged schools from using the daily agenda for reporting a child’s behaviour to their family.
Many schools use green, yellow, and red faces to indicate “good,” “not so good,” and “bad” days. At the end of each day, the teacher or aide rates the child’s behaviour in their agenda.
Let’s consider how it must make a child feel to be bringing home a “red face” to Mom or Dad. None of us likes to disappoint those whom we love the most and upon whom we depend. Even as adults, most of us prefer NOT to confess our transgressions. Think about the last time that you received a parking ticket or traffic violation. Usually the last person we ‘fess up to is our loved one. We do not like to see the disappointment in their eyes, even if we know that their love is not contingent on how we park or how we drive. Our children – especially those who don’t do well – feel the same way.
A parent whose child’s behaviour was being managed in this way told me this story: At the end of the day she had 15 minutes, during their walk home, to devote to her child. She wanted these precious minutes to be spent reconnecting with her son, no matter what had happened at school. Sadly, on the days when her son received a yellow or red face, he would refuse to hold her hand and interact with her, even though she had no intention of about talking about his behaviour. He knew that when she opened the agenda on those days she would be disappointed in him, and so he hung back in anticipation of this reaction.
Upon hearing about her son’s reaction, it confirmed for me that we do a disservice when we ask children to bring home these reports on daily basis to their parents. The anticipation of a parent’s displeasure is difficult for a child to bear. Some of them – in an attempt to avoid this difficult situation – will “lose” their agenda (many go out the school bus window), lie about what happened, blame other students or adults at the school, or finally numb themselves out from caring. Then they get into even more trouble: for losing things, for lying, and for not caring.
Children need a state of rest and calm for optimal brain development. Worrying about how their parents will react increases stress hormones, which, if experienced in excess, slows down brain development.
There is a second part to this situation: the parents. The expectation is that when the parent is informed about how the child behaved at school that they will be able to influence the child to do better the next day. This can work if the child’s misbehaviour is an occasional event. But when the misbehaviour is due to immaturity, impulsivity, or over-reactivity, most parents are at a loss of what to do. They talk with the child, they cajole, they remind, they bribe, and they consequence. Unfortunately, none of these tactics can make a child grow up any faster.
A teacher told me this story: A boy in her class begged her one day not to send home another “red” face, even though he knew he deserved it. When asked why, he told his teacher that he would get in deep trouble with his father if he brought home another one.
I happened to visit this teacher’s classroom that day and we discussed the situation. It came out that the boy had been abandoned by his mother and that his father was raising him on his own, but that he had been injured on the job and was now off work and recuperating at home.
I was struck with the thought of how desperate this father must be. He had tried everything he could do to “fix” his son and could only think of harsh discipline as a way to get his boy to act as he should. When I shared this thought with the teacher, her heart went out to this dad. I asked her not to send any more behaviour reports home. She agreed, and then we spoke of other ways to help this boy to manage his days at school.
What really struck me about this situation was how fundamentally this system disrupts the parent-child relationship. At the end of every day, we all want to be greeted with delight by those whom we love the most. We want to know that no matter what, they will be happy to see us and that we can spend time basking in their affection for us. This is what will prepare us to face the demands of the next day.
Unfortunately, when bad news comes home, no one can relax. Parents try desperately to do what they can to help the child to behave. Even if they don’t add any consequences at home, their disappointment affects the quality of their evening together.
What can be done, instead? For a child with chronic behavioural difficulties, the school and parents need to meet regularly to discuss how to best help the child cope.
The developmental approach does not promote children being allowed to do as they wish, but when conventional discipline does not resolve the problem, it is up to the adults to find a way to help the child to do better. Parents may need to put children to bed earlier and find routines that help them to be better organized for the day.
Schools that have adopted a developmental approach look to see where the child is experiencing difficulty during the day. They try to find ways to compensate for immaturity and impulsivity. Some students are assigned to structured, adult-supervised activities during recess time. Some are helped to avoid crowded hallways by staying behind until things are calmer. When a child has a particularly difficult day, an adult contacts the parents – independent of the child – to seek help with understanding why the day or week was so difficult.
Ultimately it takes time and patience when dealing with challenging students. Maturity cannot be commanded. Our role as adults is to provide a safe and caring environment for our children so that natural developmental processes unfold. Let’s find a way to make every evening at home a good one.
Note: In her next editorial, Eva will continue her analysis of other behaviour management strategies that may need to be reconsidered, particularly digital systems.
Editor’s Note: Thanks to, and appreciation for, Dr. Neufeld, who has written our 101st editorial – a measure of maturation for the Neufeld Institute as an organization – on the topic of maturation.
Everywhere I look in our society, I am struck by a seeming epidemic of polarization, tribalization, impulsive behaviour, dogmatism, black-and-white thinking, lack of consideration for context, lack of patience and grace, lack of perspective, lack of appreciation of the complexity of issues, lack of regard for fellow human beings.
What is missing, in short, is true maturity. I don’t mean the physical kind, but rather, the much more rare psychological or emotional kind. Growing older is no guarantee of growing up, and it seems that fewer of us are getting there these days, stuck in immaturity. The underlying condition in emotional immaturity is untempered experience and expression. The above-mentioned traits are but a few of its myriad manifestations.
What strikes me even more is that the construct of maturity has also gone missing in our society. Like emotion – which was eclipsed as an explanatory construct for more than 400 years – maturity (and its lack) seems to have all but disappeared as a way of making sense of individuals and their behaviour. Instead, we attribute the traits of immaturity to personality, typology, ideology, politics, socio-economic status, a lack of values, a lack of learning, mental illness, or even diagnosable disorder.
The problem with the current spate of immaturity is that it is not recognized for what it truly is. Once immaturity becomes the norm, especially in a peer-oriented society, it becomes eclipsed as an explanatory construct for what is wrong. The symptoms, now seen as normal, become more acceptable and even expected. One might say that the insidious enormity of immaturity is camouflaged by its normality. If we don’t recognize the problem for what it is, how are we ever going to effectively address it?
American poet and activist Robert Bly sounded the alarm about missing maturity in his 1996 book, Sibling Society. If immaturity was a recognizable problem 20 years ago, it has become an epidemic of tragic proportions today. Over ten years ago, in my book Hold On To Your Kids, I blamed this problem on the rampant peer orientation in our society – children cannot grow each other up. I don’t think it an accident that the worsening of peer orientation has paralleled the manifestations of immaturity in our society.
I do not believe we can blame the current epidemic of immaturity on the failure of education. In fact, I believe the opposite to be true: that a modicum of maturity is required for children to benefit from their schooling. Unfortunately, not even a PhD from an Ivy League university will eradicate immaturity. A lack of maturity cannot be blamed on the politics of the right or the left, or even the nature of the political system. However, it would seem that a working democracy requires a modicum of maturity in both its participants and its leaders. Immaturity cannot be blamed on poverty, mental illness, or behaviour disorder. There are no pills to cure immaturity; there is no discipline to correct the problem. No amount of money can buy maturity. Acting mature does not make it so.
The truth of the matter is that the realization of human potential is primarily in the hands of parents, pure and simple. It always has been. Thus our current epidemic of immaturity is home-grown (pardon the pun). It’s not that we aren’t trying as parents; I think as a whole we have never been trying harder. But we can’t effectively raise children who aren’t in right relationship with us. And we can’t grow children up by focusing more on their behaviour than on the conditions that are conducive to true growth and maturation.
Although we are responsible for raising children to their full human potential, the other truth of the matter is that none of us can cause growth to happen, in ourselves or in our children. This is where Nature comes in. But Nature cannot do this alone – any more than it can with the plants in our gardens. Nature needs us to provide the conditions that nurture the maturing processes. Together we can make this happen but it helps to know a bit about how Nature does things and what it requires to do its work. I am reminded of Aristotle’s observation that ‘in all things of nature, there is something of the marvelous.’ It seems to me that, if ever something marvelous was needed in our world, now is the time.
If there is hope in this world – and I believe there is – it is in truly growing our children up. If one is inclined towards New Year’s resolutions, there could not be a more important one to make. We need to make this our priority above all. To do this, however, we need to know what immaturity looks like so that we will also know when maturation is the only answer to the problem at hand. And we need to know what Nature needs from us to do its marvelous work.
Fortunately, today’s developmental science does have answers for us, but this knowledge is having a hard time making it to the streets, or in this case, the homes of our nations. I have created some courses to help bridge this knowledge gap, and one in particular – Helping Children Grow Up – is apropos to the crisis at hand. If growing your children up is your goal, I invite you to give this online course a try. We are, after all, our children’s best hope for escaping the clutches of immaturity.
Our next online course for Helping Children Grow Up begins February 7, 2017. This is the second course in our signature Power-to-Parent series. As a special one-time offer, we are waiving the prerequisite Power-to-Parent I: The Vital Connection for this course. Registrants will instead be given access to Dr. Neufeld’s Roots of Attachment webinar as a substitute for this prerequisite.
Why is it that young children can lock down in protest at the mere suggestion of getting dressed or undressed? Why do school-age kids seem to resist directions and expectations when homework needs to get done? Why do some teens oppose and rail against rules and limits around technology use, driving them to push back at parents? At first glance, these scenarios seem unrelated … except for their capacity to ignite parental frustration and persistence. But they all share similar roots.
Kids come with an instinct to resist and oppose, or do the opposite of, what they are told. But this isn’t news to parents or teachers. What may be surprising is that resistance can stem from the counterwill instinct that is innate to all humans.
The term ‘counterwill’ was first coined in the German language by Otto Rank, a Viennese psychoanalyst and student of Freud’s. This construct was further developed by Dr. Gordon Neufeld, using the lenses of attachment and development.
Counterwill refers to the instinct to resist, counter, and oppose when feeling controlled or coerced. You can feel it arise inside of you when someone tells you what to think, do, or feel. This isn’t a mistake or a flaw in human nature, and, like all instincts, serves an important function. The challenge for parents is that immaturity makes a child more prone to expressions of resistance.
Counterwill is an innate response designed to protect the self when feeling coerced or when facing separation. Children are designed to be directed by people they are attached to – which makes them prone to resist people who they are not connected to. If a stranger starts to tell a child what to do, they should be resistant to their directions. Not just anyone was meant to ‘boss’ a child around. This is a good thing, and preserves a parent’s natural place in a child’s life as being the one to care for them.
But why do kids resist parents they are attached to? The answer is because our ‘have to’s’ have become greater than the child’s ‘want-to’s.’ In other words, their instinct to resist has become greater than their desire to follow – which could be due to the amount of control or coercion that they are experiencing, a reflection of the depth of their attachment to a parent, or their level of immaturity. A child’s resistance doesn’t mean we have to abandon our agenda, but it does mean we will need to figure out how to hold on to our relationship while steering through the counterwill impasse.
The counterwill instinct is also important in helping pave the way for separate functioning and becoming a unique self. Part of figuring out who you are involves placing a moratorium on other people’s views, agenda’s, wants, and wishes. When other people’s voices are louder than your own, the counterwill instinct helps to create some space through resistance so that you can develop your own perspective. While it may be problematic for parents to be resisted, it can serve an important developmental role in helping a child develop their own mind.
Counterwill responses in kids are not confined to the home and occur with other adults like teachers. The younger and more immature a child is, the more important a working relationship with their teacher will be in order to learn from them. Attachment is what opens a child’s ears to real and lasting influence – not coercion, bribes, threats, rewards, or punishment.
The more responsible a parent feels to lead a child and to care for them, the more provocative acts of resistance and defiance can seem. It is sometimes challenging for parents not to react out of their own counterwill instinct when their children are locked into resistance.
What is true is that the more you push a child who is resistant, the more likely they are to push back and exhibit greater opposition. This can lead to an escalation of tension and conflict that erodes your relationship – ironically exactly what is required to render resistance less prevalent in the first place. Constant battles can create insecurity and anxiety in kids and can adversely impact their development.
The challenge is to anticipate resistance and not to take it personally. The challenge is to remain in the caretaker position and lead through the counterwill storm. Some of the strategies below require maturity in the parent and the capacity to see the big picture. It is relationship that opens a child’s heart to being influenced by us and serves to create the ideal conditions for development.
So what are you supposed to do when your young child refuses to get dressed, or when your adolescent refuses to do homework or obey technology rules?
- Focus on connection first.
What makes a child amenable to following a parent is connection. Before we direct them, we need to get into relationship by collecting them – that is, catching their eyes, getting a smile, focusing on what they are attending to – all before proceeding with our requests. If we need to talk about something that isn’t working, like homework time, then it is best to collect them first to make them open to influence. - Reduce coercion when directing.
Sometimes, when we make requests of our kids, we are talking in a coercive manner to counter their resistance before it begins. Statements like, “You have to …” or “You must …” or “You need to …” all serve to raise the counterwill instinct. Consequences are also commonly used to get a child to comply, with statements such as, “You need to do this, or else,” which only exacerbates a child’s resistance.
- Press pause, side-step, and revisit the issue when in better attachment.
If you are locked into a counterwill battle with a child, then it is often better to take a tactical retreat to prevent wounding to the relationship and to avoid using force to get a child to capitulate to your demands. It is also important to maintain an alpha position in doing so. For example, “I’m going to give you some time to think about this and I will be back to talk,” or “I’ve decided this is not a good time to address this issue.”
- Make some room for their own ideas and initiative.
If a child is old enough to get dressed or organize their homework, then perhaps it is time to put them in charge of these things. If they are eager to have their own mind and exert their own wishes and wants, then carving out some spaces and turning over age-appropriate tasks to them may be a helpful strategy. The types of activities that you would not want to turn over to them would include anything to do with their caretaking such as food, or who they spend time with.
- Make amends when needed.
If our reactions to a child’s counterwill have created distance in the relationship, then giving it time and returning to the child to make amends may be necessary. It can be simply done with an apology and an indication that you wish things would have gone better in the discussion.
While our children may claim, “You’re not the boss of me,” we don’t have to take it to heart or react to it. We just need to lead through the counterwill storm, knowing we are their best bet and that they should feel safe and secure in our care. It is okay for our kids to have their own mind, but this doesn’t mean they will always get their own way. One day the child will be the ‘boss’ of him or herself and until our job is done, we need to make some room for them to flex their wings, but not let go of our caretaking responsibilities.
For more on dealing with counterwill in young children, you might be interested in the Making Sense of Preschoolers course that starts January 25th. You’ll also find more about counterwill in Dr. Neufeld’s Hold On To Your Kids, and in Chapter Nine of Rest, Play, Grow: Making Sense of Preschoolers (Or Anyone Who Acts Like One).
Pippin loves to herd. He loves to herd alpacas, which is a good thing because this is his job on the farm. He herds turkeys, which is not his job. He tries to herd people, which is often amusing and harmless. He herds cats, which is next to impossible.
But he also tries to herd cars, which is downright dangerous.
Pippin is a mini-Australian shepherd and sheltie cross. For him, herding is an instinct. It is part of who he is. We cannot prevent him from herding, nor would we want to. When he goes for the cars, however, we wish the herding instinct had an off switch! Because he cannot help it, it becomes our job to keep him safe: we warn guests to slow down on the driveway, we try to keep him inside when we’re expecting someone, we call him to our side to keep him out of harm’s way.
Pippin is also still a puppy, and he loves to chew! Or more like, Pippin needs to chew. His favorite flavours are socks and shoes. He is partial to sandals and flip flops – perhaps something about the saltwater smell. We have come to the place where we expect something to be destroyed when we come home from being away, even just for a few hours. The question becomes: what will it be this time? It becomes a bit of a game (although not a fun one). Will it be my daughter’s favorite flip flops? My husband’s wool socks? My expensive sandals? Again, this is an instinct for Pippin. He is driven to it.
Now, I believe he knows it is wrong. When the mauled shoe is held up in front of his face, he winces and takes his “I’m sorry” pose. However, in the moment, there is no hesitation, no memory of the appropriateness of his chosen snack. He just needs to chew! And chew he does. Because he cannot help it, it becomes our job to keep our treasures safe. We put things up high, we put shoes in boxes, we close doors. He still finds things to chew, like a game of Uno in a scrumptious cardboard box, but we can minimize the damage.
Our children, too, have instincts. Emotions are stirred up within them, and they are often moved by frustration, by alarm, and by pursuit. When something isn’t working, they often act impulsively out of these instinctive places.
They forget in their frustration that it is not okay to hit or that they care about their little sister. They may remember before, or after, but not in the moment! It therefore becomes our job to keep them, and their siblings, out of harm’s way. Can we find out what isn’t working for them? Can we find something else to hit, or find another way to get the frustration out?
If they are getting in trouble at recess, if their impulses keep getting the better of them, it is our job as adults to come alongside and keep them safe – maybe a run around the track together, maybe a visit to the library, maybe a special project to keep them out of harm’s way.
It may be that when a young child anticipates going to school, they may move to pursue, clinging to mommy and refusing to go. They forget in the moment that mommy will still be there, or that part of them likes school. All they feel at the time is the alarm and they are moved to keep close.
These are instincts. By nature, instincts are impulsive. As a child grows older, they become more capable of tempering these instincts, bringing in the ‘on-the-other-hand’ thoughts and feelings. But this doesn’t happen until at least age five, and even then can take years, especially when the feelings are intense. Goodness knows that as adults, we still have trouble tempering our own instincts and emotions! And I am not sure when this happens for puppies …
And so, while we wait for our children to mature, it helps to see that instincts are a natural part of being a child. While I wait for Pippin to remember in the moment (instead of after the fact), that it is not okay to chew his family’s belongings or herd cars, it calls for patience and creativity on my part – patience in not expecting Pippin to be other than a puppy, and creativity in finding ways to keep everyone (and everything) safe.
We can anticipate the instincts, the heightened emotion, and move to change their circumstances. Or we can move to help our children release the built up frustration for all the things that aren’t working for them – through words, through throwing sticks in the water, through screaming (just maybe not in the grocery store or at your mother-in-law’s!), or through the tears of disappointment.
And we will undoubtedly need to make adjustments and compensate for our youngsters’ impulsive instincts. In Pippin’s case it meant finding him a chew toy, something he could destroy without getting in trouble. It meant finding him something else to herd (and keeping him away from the sheep and the ducks next door!), taking him on walks, letting him run outside to get some of that energy out. Once we see what is needed, we can find our way to the child’s side, trusting that nature has a plan.