Small thoughts

I've been reading John Holt's Instead of Education, and that book too has both made me hopeful and incredibly sad. It feels so sad to notice that had my parents wanted to offer me a good environment they could've, there would have been resources out there. The contrast to what they chose to do is shuddering. 

One of those things they chose to do was to hit us. The instances I remember were all situations in which my intentions were misinterpreted, and where I was already feeling really bad due to not being understood or some other reason. Hitting us seemed just a way to use up emotion without feeling it for my "parents", and of course was the handy method they made sure that my authentic self was silenced. As a consequence I was "a nice, well-behaved girl", meaning, always afraid, always seeing what was expected, always unsure and unhappy. 

My "mother" told me a couple of years ago that she thought that I would forget what they did, implying that that would mean that it wouldn't have affected me. Why you would want your child to forget your influence as a parent is beyond me - how can you have such low standards for yourself? A part of the reason is maybe that parenting is seen as something where conflicts with children are the norm, and there is very little understanding about the kinds of conflicts that are healthy and the kinds that aren't? 

The conflict there were "at my home", were not the healthy kind, but really usually meant my parents assigning malicious motives on us and punishing us (whether by hitting, not listening, ignoring our questions, etc) according to how they felt at the time. Our needs, emotions, and intentions were ignored. I hardly think there was any time my parents would just have been satisfied and happy to be parents, and accepting and loving us. 

However, as I was, it doesn't really matter if there were such times, because I never felt the love even if it existed. My parents were never around, but even when they were around they weren't present and loving, but distant, judging and violent. There was a really dangerous assumption at play; that in parenting it matters what you do the most, not what is the worst thing you do. I have to say that my parents passed the line of "sometimes acceptable parent behavior" frequently, what they did was so bad it should never happen. There is a concept of parenting nowadays in Finland, "good enough parenting" that I don't know much about (probably easing the guilt and stress of the image of the "perfect parent" is a good idea and allows parents to spend their energy on really becoming the parents they want to be).  This is what I want to point out - if you are bad enough even once the good things you do have no relevance. Your child will be afraid, insecure and unhappy all the time, because she is scared about you flipping out. There can be no trust, real learning, existing, happiness, because you are not safe for the child. 

I was always afraid of punishment, and I had no control over how my actions would be interpreted, so I learned to be anxious all the time. I learned that my parents harboured judgments on us, and they would come flying out when they were in an emotionally difficult state; three weeks ago you... and so you are not a valuble being... you did that and that. They chose to harbour judgments instead of communicating with us in situations, instead of sharing their own point of view, actually parenting us. 

I've learned later that I'm really sensitive compared to many others, and that sensitive children become more easily traumatised, learn to shut themselves up, and, I suppose, are more conscious of parental and adult expectations around them. I would've needed support to find my place in the world even if my parents would have been nearly perfect (support from them!), as it was my home was just another horrible thing to get away from. 

Finnish children don't consider game English "real English"

There is a story about someone's PhD reseach about 7-13-year old Finnish children and studying English in today's Helsingin sanomat. The surveyed children don't consider the English they learn when gaming "proper English" , and don't see much relevance for lerning to write English (this is actually expressed rather vaguely in the article; it's possible that I misunderstood something). "Real English" is learned at school from books, the children think. 

I don't remember if I had that kind of an attitude about English, but one of the bitternesses I harbor about school has to do with learning English. English lessons helped me learn English until I was in the 6th grade, after that my learning was from books I read and tv shows I watched. I remember the moment I realised that I know English; I was watching Bold and the Beautiful and had an epiphany - I wasn't reading the subtitles anymore but I was listening to what they were actually saying, in English. After that English lessons were really boring, and didn't really contribute to my use of it... I remember the only 2 words I learned on the 8th grade (obstruction and contempt). My teacher noticed that I was bored, but didn't really offer me anything more challenging or meaningful. Now when I think about who I was then I had a really deep need to be understood and to find ways to express my diverse thoughts, and even though I studied English, Finnish and French, none of those lessons fulfilled that need. 

No wonder children have the attitudes they do; at school it is not really considered important what children are excited about or do in their free time. The researcher concludes that attention should be placed on forging connections between the children's experiences and their English lessons. That way, the article says, "children's attitudes would also change". I don't know how important that is, I think that the children's attitudes are a pretty clear indicator of how things actually are at school, and how their life outside of school is seen there. I would think that the point of the change would be that children could be excited about what they learn, could see the relevance of what they do learn, and they are seen as whole children and their learning outside of school is also valued. 

I think that the same would apply to any school subject, and actually to anything outside of school; true learning has everything to do with our lives as they are now, and all that we willingly learn can change our life as it is now. 

2 situations with a 2-year-old

Yesterday we visited P's sister HM. She has a 2-year-old girl called Anni. I've been thinking about two recent situations with her that have made me think about what children need and how adults can support them. 

The first scene happened when we were leaving on an earlier visit. Anni and HM, her mother, went to a room that had a sofa and a window to the yard, so that Anni could watch as I and P were leaving. Anni got on the sofa and suddenly fell with her right foot between the sofa and the radiator. HM asked her if she was hurt, and A said "no", but seemed distraught nonetheless. HM urged on - I don't remember everything as clearly as I'd like -  and Anni finally started to cry in her lap to get the hurt and shock out. 

That brought to mind what I had learned from Raising Our Children, Raising Ourselves, about children needing support with facing their emotions. The very least they need is for the adults around to allow for emotional expression, and not prevent it with for example avoidance or providing distractions (some of the ways of denying children their emotions Aldort lists in her book). This situation stayed with me for days, and I felt admiration for HM's mothering. What HM did was more than allowing Anni to have her feelings,  what she did was to support her in becoming emotionally aware, resilient and facing her feelings. 

It is common to think that children are very emotional and easy with their feelings and think that what adults do wouldn't have much of an effect, or, even worse, that emotional expression is not important. The truth is that children are resilient but the resiliency comes from being able to live with your emotions as they come, and not fear that you lose the respect or love of the adults around you if you show your hurt. Aldort promotes being there for the child (not stopping emotional expression) and not adding drama to the situation. Aldort has made clear that children follow adults' expectations and can be seriously stunted by adults' attitudes. Unexpressed emotions stay with children, awaiting later release, seriously hampering the child's well-being if that time never comes. A couple of days ago I realised that I waited my whole childhood and youth for a situation to fully exist, for safety to have my emotions. Now I'm building that, slowly and painfully. 

What I learned is that Anni needed in that situation both that her emotions are taken seriously, and that she is supported in expressing them: this is what I feel that HM did. 

The second event happened as I was playing with Anni. I'm somewhat a favourite with her, and we have some games that we play together. One of those is Anni doing something on the mattresses at her room and me following and repeating whatever she is doing. An example would be theatrically falling on the mattress or kicking our feet in the air making funny sounds. 

Yesterday as we were playing Anni turned forcefully on the mattress and hit her head to a closet door. I was quite sure that she would be hurting. I remembered that I want to allow Anni to feel her feelings and move on, and I asked her if she was hurt. She said no, but I said something else, trying to suggest that it is okay to be hurt. I asked if we would get her mother, and A said no. I wonder how I could know when Anni's no means that she is afraid her emotions won't be accepted and when it does mean that she genuinely doesn't feel the need to get her mother for support. 

She was silent for a while but allowed me to stroke her back slowly. (I stopped for a while and continued as she stayed in the same position. I'm conscious of the possibility of forcing children physical closeness they don't know how to prevent and I really hope that what I did felt comfortable and supporting to Anni).  I hope that I allowed Anni to have her feelings. It's possible that something stayed unexpressed and Anni's parents will face the emotions later on. I'm happy to know that Anni has parents who can support her emotionally.  After a while Anni got up and said something about the door, and I reciprocated by saying that it is sturdy or something to that effect. 

Now I wonder if that situation went as best it could. Maybe it's safest for Anni not to express all her hurt with me.  I don't think that I was attached to Anni either hurting or not hurting, and I was genuinely trying to just allow Anni her feelings. Situations like this make a life, emotions unexpressed can deeply prevent present life. When declined a chance to express and feel our emotions we become afraid of them, and feel that who we are fully is unacceptable. I wish for Anni a sense that everything that she is is fully loved, and that she can move on from any feeling. 

After the previous post veered seriously off course, here is what I was going to write about... Raising Our Children, Raising Ourselves

I'm in love with this book already even though I'm only on page 60 now. I hope that I'll finish this today. 

Aldort presents a fantastic outline of what children need from their parents, and overall in life, to thrive. She lists 

- love

- freedom of self-expression

- autonomy and power

- emotional safety 

- self-esteem 

as needs children try to satisfy through their actions (no matter how inconceivable to the parent). I think that I was very much a normal, maybe more sensitive and acutely aware of things as others, but overall a normal, healthy child. But I was thrown into an environment of expectations and unquestioned demands. My parents never took the time or caring to go through what they expected (some of these I heard later, such as "I wanted nice children", with no thought ever given to what "being nice" in a child would mean), which is the first step Aldort presents for parents to become the loving parents they (hopefully!) want to be. S. is the first letter of her S.A.L.V.E. formula, and it means listening to your self-talk to reveal assumptions and 'should's that stand between you and loving your child as she is. And as she states, that is indeed the most important, the critical thing parents need to realise; the rest will flow by itself after you're clear about what you really are telling yourself.  

More on expectations; Aldort writes that the emotional energy of a parent can often be overwhelming to the child. If she is scolded about something she will only learn that she is worthless, and probably become so sensitized by the parent's anger that she won't understand what the parent tries to communicate. I love it how Aldort explains the destructive power of expectations: "- - children are prompted by expectations to do what would please the adults around them, which hurts their sense of trust and self-esteem. Protect the child's authenticity in his relationship with you - -. " p.48 

(Makes me see that what I became - that defenseless creature who tries to do what is expected no matter what the cost - is very natural. And if people who are in the "helping professions" realised this deep need and didn't think that manipulating children through it is okay, they could've seen that I should be protected from myself, from becoming slave to others' expectations... but I digress.) 

I'm reading the love chapter now. Aldort explores what it means to love and what kind of attention children need. 

Quotes I find very worthwhile: 

* On why the book was written: "The purpose of this book, therefore, is not to teach you how to elicit cooperation, but how to empower self-realization for both you and your child. An autonomous child, whose life flows in her direction, acts productively because she wants to. She acts out of joy and love, not out of fear or a need to earn approval." 

* On why it's not "indulging the child" to give him attention (Aldort also makes clear that nothing loving you can do will "spoil" the child or make them not aware of others' needs): "Giving attention - - is a response to a human need. The child learns his own value by being worthy of our time and attention." p.62 

* A risk parents face, of blinding themselves. Aldort suggests being deeply aware of our motives when dealing with (our) children: "Often we confuse our own needs with caring for the child, and we project those needs on the child. - - we are all sometimes convinced that we know what is best for the child, yet it is more likely to represent our own needs." p.65-6 

* About what love really means, a quote I love to bits: "Your child will feel connected by love when you are straight with her about your needs and you avoid controlling her or teaching her how to be. - - loving your child is being ecstatic about who she is, celebrating her ways of being and her choices." p.67

More when I finish the book. 

Raising Our Children, Raising Ourselves

Bookdepository promptly delivered to my door the book I'm currently reading, Naomi Aldort's Raising Our Children, Raising ourselves, yesterday. Makes me sad to read this and realise how deeply ashamed of my needs and everything about myself I've always been. And now that I see everything through the disability I got by not taking care of what I needed in the wrong moment, I'm bitter about not having had the kind of parents who would have supported me in noticing and responding to my needs. 

Instead, I got the freezing reflex, overthinking and just being there hoping that things would pass, and that I wouldn't be permanently hurt, in any situation where I was under danger. Now that freezing has really deteriorated the quality of my life and I'm not sure if I'll ever have a healthy body and a relaxed feeling again. My needs were always ignored, to the point that when I had a need I was quick to disown it, and when I had a need I was conscious of I ignored it as best I could, trying to prove that "nothing was wrong with me". In my "family" it was always wrong to tell that you had a need or to show that you had a problem with anything; nothing was discussed, no support was ever given, no presence lavished on us.  

But back to the book; my point is just that the things that Aldort and others write about are no trivial matters, even if only in a preventative health sense, it would be wise to advocate the kind of parenting that helps children to be aware and fulfil their needs. Aldort's world is a far cry from the judgmental environment my so-called parents built for me and my brothers.  

I've only recently realised something very important, and it makes me think that much of the speech directed at people with horrible childhoods, is deeply patronizing. I can recall being told/having read that "yes, you have these defense reflexes, they're what kept you alive, they protected you, now you can let go of them". The truth is that those patterns didn't serve me and I didn't get the help I would've needed to become someone who shouts and stop what is happening when they are being hurt (hence my physical problem now!). No one was willing to look at my life, even when I got "professional help" before I had gotten this physical problem, and how willing I was to fulfil everyone else's expectations. When I told about my fears I was told that "therapy is a slow process". The truth is, and this is what I've realised just now, that nothing can really protect a child when she is tossed into a violent, neglectful environment. That is exactly what I had to grow up with. The only chance is for someone else to notice what is going on, the child will do anything to uphold the parents' expectations of normalcy. That's what I did, at least. At terrible cost to myself. 

The people who met me when I needed real help didn't see through the drama of normalcy I put on for everyone else, they didn't realise that it was a part of my pathology, to always seem capable and outwardly needless. "She's an intelligent girl, she'll go far..." they told themselves, not taking my fears and sensitivities seriously. Now I'm perhaps permanently hurt. I can't help but think that even one person acknowledging where I was coming from could've made a difference. I had no skill to respond to my needs, even on a very basic level, especially when met with others' expectations of me! 

I'm angry that now that I could really live I'm forced to live in a broken body. Anything else I could deal with on my own, I feel, I've let go of horrible amounts of emotional trauma. It kills me to know that I could live well if I could just relax and be physically present. I see so much richness in life and so many learning tasks ahead I could feel positively elated, if only, if only... This is the risk people take when not responding to others openly and finding out what they really need, what their life really is about. That they offer the wrong thing and things just get worse. The therapy I had was clearly not enough, if I was not able to defend myself. I couldn't take care of my needs, I would've needed someone to see how badly at risk I was, and help me design a healthy and risk-free environment to be in for the duration of tough emotional work. 

Wisdom from John Holt's How Children Learn

If, like me, you find this book boring at first, jump ahead and start where you find something interesting, and then after staying up half the night to finish the book, come back to the beginning. In How Children Learn John Holt presents his understanding of what processes children use to learn and process things they encounter in their lives, and how they naturally learn very efficiently. The new edition ends with a chapter called "Learning and love". In it, Holt writes: "What have I learned from all this? {being an unschooling advocate} That children love learning and are extremely good at it. On this matter I have no more doubts." 

The book is an unschooling classic originally published in the 1960s, but it is constantly valid and I think, important for anyone who is interested in children or learning. Holt has taken a lot of time to hang out and play with children, and to acutely observe how they go about learning. 

One of the most important undercurrents in the book is the assertion that what adults do to supposedly help children's learning usually only means to hinder it. (Another title for the book could be "how adults fail children", I think.) No teaching of any kind is necessary for children to learn: instead, children perceive our efforts to teach, even if ever so slightly, as manipulation.  

Children need testing and a lot of direct feedback (not the fake kind administered through grades and correction) to be able to learn something; Holt explains that we all learn through "hunches". For example, we might have a vague idea about the letter K, and we need many experiences that reinforce our idea to finally be "sure about" what it means. The adult focus on getting things correct immediately stops the flow of natural learning. If we drill the child for a quick answer (in school, for instance) we only serve to destroy the hunch, and make the child unsure of his learning (and ruin his confidence). Also, pointing out mistakes in e.g. a child's use of language (or even repeating a mispronounced word carefully back to the child) means that a child's self-correcting processes are stopped. S/he would learn more and faster left to her own devices. Another reason not to demand perfect command of language from children is to let the child feel that they are important, and that other people want to understand them. AND to really understand them, of course! (It's sad how that eludes some parents and other adults.) Sharing things and being together is what communication, speech, listening, writing and reading, really are about.  

Holt manages to question importan tenets of school-centered idea of learning, such as "learning is for the future" etc. Doing things and being alive are what prepares us for life, not "studying" vague irrelevant "facts". An important component of children's learning is that they want to make meaning of the world around them. That is the driving force behind genuine learning: what is served in school is disjointed information that has no relevance to most children's presence. Also, Holt notes, at school it is the teacher who does the talking, not the children who need to "practice" it. 

This is a fantastic book, and the changes it proposes are nothing short of radical. Holt's attitude of careful inquiry and compassion is enchanting, and after reading this I came out with the same conclusions as him, that meaningful learning will happen all the time, if children are not prevented from it.