Anger and the Rocking Chair

I have an ongoing interest in psychology, specifically evolutionary and developmental psychology, with a particular focus on children’s issues.  I work with children that have behavioral, emotional and developmental problems, both as a yoga therapist and as an intervention worker.  I’m also a single parent.  I don’t do this work because I am a particularly patient or empathetic person, in fact my loved ones probably would out me as short on temper, long on moralizing.  But rather, being in the presence of children, especially those deemed as “impossible” or “lost causes,” puts me acutely in touch with the NOW, with BEING.  Children’s emotions and needs are usually on the surface of their existence, forcing us to be present while they are vulnerable.   I respect that vulnerability.  I see it in myself.

Janet Lederman was an elementary school teacher who practiced Gestalt awareness in her inner-city “special needs” classroom.  Although written in 1969, and a bit controversial (she’s okay with spanking), the principles of Frederic Perls’ theory applied in a classroom setting are still very applicable today (if teachers would be given the trust and opportunity to use them).  Rewards are given for showing strength, courage, honesty, respect.  Negative attention seeking is channeled into more appropriate means.  For example, in one scene two “delinquent” boys are trying to get a rise out of Lederman by singing:

 “I have a girl from Culver City,

She’s got meat balls on her titties.

She’s got ham and eggs

Between her legs…”

Rather than sending them to the office to be punished by the administration or getting upset, she says, “I like the way you boys sing.  Come over to the tape recorder.”

They proceed to sing their little ditty (more sheepishly now) into the recorder.  They are afraid she will show it to the principal.  She reiterates that she likes the way they sing and that they can erase it when they are done.  They begin to sing and start critiquing their voices.  They laugh.  They try singing a different song.  She did not fulfill their expectations of shock, anger, or punishment.  But they still received the attention they so desperately required and it become an experience about SINGING, not punishment and rejection.

In another scene Lederman discusses the reality of the “messiness” of childhood, an ongoing issue in my house, and probably yours as well.  To the children of her class she says, “I am not here to take care of the tools you use, or the games you enjoy.  If I ‘pick up’ after you, you will not experience the frustration of missing parts and broken toys.  If I take care of your things you will have no way of discovering how to care for your equipment.  I will do nothing for you that you are capable of doing for yourself.”

As parents and teachers it is so very difficult to live the experience of that last line, but it is essential to raising healthy, independent, responsible, self-motivated children.  We must choose to let go of our need for total control, our insistence that it be done “our way,” in “our time,” because we are “the boss.”  Instead, we must teach children how to be their own bosses, and they can only learn that, safely and painfully, through experience.  This causes us great discomfort while we helplessly watch our children flounder and complain, and it is terribly tempting to feel resentful and the next thing you know, “Argh! I’ll just do it myself…” is tumbling like acid out of your mouth.  And what does the child hear?  “You are not fast enough.  Smart enough.  Old enough.  Good enough.”  And the truly dangerous road of learned-helplessness begins.