If you’ve been looking for me the past couple of weeks, you can find me at the local public pool. Every weekday morning, I’m there… reading a book, catching up on email, or just generally trying to sweat the least amount possible as I watch Tegan and Everett in their swim classes in the 110 degree heat .
Participating in any sort of public kids’ activity is like plunking yourself in the center of a boiled down, concentrated, melting pot soup of parents. All kinds of parenting (including my own) on close display, whether we like it or not. It’s hard not to notice the mom who’s having a bad day and yelling at her kids. It’s hard not to see the impatient dad yanking his child’s hand a little harder than is necessary. It’s hard to ignore the scared, screaming toddler, whose parent just ordered him to buck up, stop crying, and listen to his teacher.
I’ve gotten a lot (a lot a lot) of negative feedback in the past any time I posted about any harsh parenting that I may have witnessed. What gives me the right to judge…. why don’t I try having some compassion… what makes me think I’m such a perfect parent…. And I’d be lying if I said those comments didn’t hurt. Because the thing is, it’s not that I don’t have empathy for the other parents (I do!), and it’s not that I think I’m without fault as a parent myself (obviously, I am not). It’s just that I care so deeply about kids and how they’re treated that that awareness tends to sometimes exist to the exclusion of all other senses. Any time there’s an injustice, I’m acutely and painfully aware of it. When I’m the one who’s dealt out said injustice, I’m able to apologize. I’m able to try to do better the next time. I’m able to know that the good moments outweigh the bad, that the sweet moments outweigh the prickly ones. And while I’d like to believe that the same is true for the parents that I see in public, I can never know for sure. So those are parents that I tend to remember. Those are the moments that gnaw.
Until recently.
Recently I renewed my realization that while yes, yes there are negative parental behaviors out there, there are positive ones out there too. Oh so much positive! Where the bad examples tend to be louder, both figuratively and literally, the others are still there, in the stillness. I just need to look around to see them. They’re there in the middle of the field, and they’re there on the sidelines.
The mom, quietly celebrating with her son who was nervous to go off the diving board but was so proud of himself for conquering his fear.
The dad, playfully scooping his wet little girl up into the air while she happily squealed.
The mom, squatting down to get to her daughter’s level while she listened with genuine interest to her story.
And my favorite of the day by far: the dad who was having a beautiful discussion with his young son, entirely in sign language. Now I don’t know a lick of sign language (I might be able to spell out my name if my life really depended on it), but I know body language. I know smiles. I know love. I know when I see an interaction that is sweet, and gentle, and kind.
That’s what I’m going to be looking for the next time I leave the house.
I’ll still notice the other side. I don’t know that I can help it, as it just seems to be a part of me. To stop noticing would be to stop caring, and that’s not something that I’m willing or able to do.
But I’ll notice the kindness too. I’ll notice the kindness first. I’ll embrace it, and I’ll celebrate it. In whatever language it comes.
I’ve been trying to see more of the kindness, too. We’ve just finished the double sports season for our youngest, Dan. The unkindnesses seem to abound. I find myself often thinking, “Wow. Really? You actually just said/did that to your kid?” I’ve taken to looking at the moment a little a deeper, or making a point of watching the same parent with their kid in a better, more positive moment. I hear you, tho, on how impossible it is to not see the bad moments. It’s a balancing act.
So beautiful. And true – nothing is black and white. It is so helpful to remember to see the positive. Something that helps me a lot is remembering that a lot of people I love parent differently than I do – even in ways I don’t think are kind – and yet I love them and know that they are doing the best they can for their kids. It’s tough. I wonder how I can be more outspoken and still be respectful and loving. Love this post.
I love your website but in my opinion the feedback you received is wrong.
“show compassion and respect for the parents” the ones in power in the situation
“and what about some compassion for a defenseless child visibly being mistreated?”
“ugh what? who are you to judge those parents! how dare you!”
Why should someone always worry about first empathizing with the more powerful parent and then pretty much never getting to the mistreated child (because even if you first talk about that the parent might be stressed, or having a bad day, if you do eventually get to what was a mistreatment of a child, it will still be met with cries of don’t be judgmental, who are you etc. etc.
It’s great that you are going to be looking for the good, but it gives me hope when amazing people like you talk about mistreatments that society should care more about, even when it makes some people defensive and angry.
Thank you. <3 And thank you for getting it.
<3
I get where you are coming from, I do. However, there are many people that are new to peaceful parenting, that are trying to break the cycle, and fail every day. When it is all one knows, to get kids to do as you say or be met by force – it’s a learning process… also there is outside pressure from in-laws, peer mom’s, etc. that you or your children behave a certain way. It’s there…always. And the times when we spectacularly fail, especially those of us who consciously want to to change, to be better…we punish ourselves a plenty…how many times we take the downward spiral, no empathy coming from anywhere…it’s lonely out here. If you screw up you aren’t made welcome by the peaceful parenting crowd, which ironically, aren’t always so forgiving and the the corporal punishment crowd (often immediate family) thinks you are being a pushover.
Failed today, tomorrow – do better.
Yes I agree. So true. Thanks.
You recognize those acts as mistakes, most people don’t. To many people children’s feelings barely register as worth considering as long as they are “behaving” or “not acting out.”
Society needs voices like Jennifer’s that humanize children.
The majority of the public would care more about your feelings from reading an article not directly about you, written by a stranger to you, than care about the feelings of a child that gets repeatedly emotionally crushed by the people they love most and are completely dependent on.
I recently listened to someone tell the “funny” story of how a woman screamed at her kid at baseball for playing badly while the kid was crying and that the woman used a funny line while screaming. You can decide about Jennifer “she makes me feel not great, I’ll only read her once a month or when I feel like it.” I doubt that child in the baseball story can even decide to stop playing baseball let alone to stop hearing hurtful berating from their primary loved one.
That it makes people feel guilty for past mistakes when mistreatment of children is talked about needs to be separated from talking about it, because it needs to be talked about.
You should have a comfort and support system but in my opinion that can’t come at the price of everyone continuing to ignore or downplay children’s feelings and mistreatments of them, which is what society very frequently does. The times when society is most willing to consider children’s feelings is if they can blame other children (see current bullying hot topic) but very few will talk about the bullying from parents or teachers that children are very frequently subjected to.
The best way to relieve your guilt may be to apologize to your child in the times when you slip up, to know that you acknowledged for them that it was a mistake. And like you said to try to take tomorrow as a new day and know that you are trying to do your best.