By Cynthia Peters
Every parent knows that “Why?” is kids’ most frequently asked question,
with “Why not?” being a close first runner-up.
So it’s interesting that in the flurry of recently generated commentary
about responding to kids’ concerns regarding the September 11th attacks,
one major piece of advice is, “Don’t ask why.”
“This is something that falls into the category of ‘impossible to
explain,’” says “Kidsinternet,” a web site produced by Primedia, the
$1.7 billion company that speaks to millions of American youth through
such outlets as Seventeen Magazine and Channel One TV. “Do not even
try
to understand the ‘whys’, just look to your parents and family for
help
in feeling safe and secure again.”
Not all the tips and tricks for parents and kids fall so squarely in
the
camp of squashing this most important and sincere question of Why?
Most
of the advice to parents and kids is oriented around “feeling safe.”
“First and foremost,” says Dr. Sylvia Rimm a psychologist and regular
contributor to the “Today” show, “reassure children of their personal
safety.” Try the Turtle Technique, recommends a psychologist in the
Boston Globe (September 20, 2001). Tell your preschooler, “Let’s pretend
we’re turtles. We’ll crawl up into our shells and picture our shell
over
us. Now we’re safe and we can relax.”
Other advice recommends looking outward, and patriotically (if naively)
suggesting that the president and other leaders are doing everything
they can to keep us safe. Alternatively, “Go to the helpers,” recommends
Ellen Goodman, a nationally syndicated columnist. Tell them the stories
of the rescue workers who had a choice about how to act and chose to
risk their lives in an effort to save people. Tell about the man who
carried the woman on crutches down dozens of flights of steps.
I agree that it is important to help children feel safe at a time like
this, and to remind them of the many humane and generous acts that
have
happened in the wake of this most inhumane atrocity. But the parenting
advice around this tragedy has a familiar ring to it – scripted
conversations, specific games to play and suggestions for narrating
the
play, exact and quantifiable goals (say, “I love you”; hug your child;
spend a few minutes alone with your child every day). It’s as if we
could carry around this checklist and end each day with confidence
that
we are meeting our children’s needs.
And this is what we are told to do even as we feel no confidence
whatsoever about how the future will unfold. The fact of the matter
is,
after all, that the President and national leaders are issuing
ultimatums to foreign governments, mobilizing for war, and calling
for
retaliation. These are not thoughtful, humane reactions to a tragedy.
If
our children are old enough and cognizant enough to be aware of the
war-cry, then we might forgive them for sensing some discrepancy between
what the news reports and what their parents are saying.
When it comes to supportive words, lots of hugs, and active listening,
I
am just as gung ho as the average mainstream commentator. But there
is
something else adults need to think about right now. That is: what
are
we doing? How are we acting? My guess is that the exact words you use
to
talk to your kids are much less important than the activities they
see
you participate in, and perhaps join you in.
Kids learn most of what they know from watching grown-ups and older
children. When times are complicated, scary and stressful, as they
are
now, perhaps the most important thing we can do for our children is
the
most important thing we should be doing anyway – whether the children
are watching or not. And that is: be agents of our destiny. Be empowered
adults. Find a role to play in the crisis. If there are things we don’t
understand, then work to understand them. Go beyond giving blood. Reach
out to neighbors and friends to find ways that our communities can
influence the outcomes of the catastrophe. Set up meetings, vigils,
listening circles, and teach-ins. Let your children see you tackle
hard
questions as best you can. Let them see you struggle. The issues we
now
confront are not easy and there’s no reason to misrepresent them as
such.
In some cultures, children grow up in the midst of working parents.
From
the day they are born, they are integrated into the daily labor required
for subsistence. They are slowly integrated into the work. By the time
they are old enough to do it themselves, they are practicing what they
already know.
The Russian psychologist Lev Vygotsky had a term for this kind of
learning. He called it “scaffolding.” He noticed that just instructing
a
child on how to solve a puzzle does not yield much success. Nor does
leaving her on her own with a pile of puzzle pieces. But sitting down
next to her and doing the puzzle yourself provides the child with a
model of sorts. The child notices your method and sees that it yields
a
solution, and she takes from what she is witnessing as much as she
is
developmentally ready to take. In this case, the adult has simply gone
about the business of solving the puzzle, providing, in the process,
a
higher level of understanding – a scaffolding – from which the child
can
proceed.
The child, in the role of participant and observer, gradually gains
new
levels of understanding in this integrated process of witnessing and
trying it out for herself.
Every family, child and parent has different issues and concerns and
unique ways they must find on their own for getting through any crisis.
But consider, as you figure out the ways that your family will move
forward through this, what sort of scaffolding you are providing.
Perhaps the most important way to help your child feel safe is to let
her witness peaceful adults getting together to solve a very hard
problem. At a peace rally in Boston today, my kids alternately played
on
the grass, listened to prayers and chants from numerous different
religions, deciphered signs, met up with friends and acquaintances,
and
clapped for Howard Zinn, Barbara Schulman, and numerous other speakers.
They saw people grieve the dead; they heard passionate pleas for peace
and justice; they heard grave concerns about the potentially tragic
consequences of U.S. actions. They didn’t pay attention the whole time,
but they saw other people pay attention. They saw that it mattered.
And
they understood implicitly that it mattered that they were there –
simply because we took them.
As we attend the vigils and rallies, light candles, organize meetings,
and respond to news reports, our kids will be watching us, scanning
for
clues about how to orient themselves in the fray. They will ask us
questions. We should answer in the most appropriate and honest way
we
can. When my nine-year old asked a series of questions that resulted
in
her understanding for the first time the meaning of a suicide mission,
I
did not enjoy watching the look of understanding cross her face as
the
meaning came clear to her.
Nor did I have a good answer for the “Why?” that followed. Partly
because I don’t know myself. Should I lie? Distract her from the
question? Or let her know that that is, in fact, the most important
question of all, and that we need to work at finding an answer.
There are other understandings that are becoming clear to her as well.
Some people are trying to influence what happens next. They are joining
with others so their voices will be stronger. They are not squashing
the
difficult questions, but trying instead to expose them to the light.
Soon after we left today’s peace rally, we ran into Mel King – longtime
Boston-area political activist and leader of a community-based effort
to
dedicate a large swath of South End property to low-income housing
instead of a parking garage for a high-end mall. He told us the story
of
how activists set up tents and moved onto the property, which is now
called Tent City, refusing to leave until the mayor met their demands.
“It took 20 years,” he said, “but we got what we wanted.”
It sounds like a minor moment, but it gave my daughter another piece
of
scaffolding. She probably can’t even fathom the meaning of 20 years,
but
she can fathom it a little bit. She studies the well-built and
attractive homes. She notices kids playing and remarks that they look
happy. Occasional drivers passing by honk and wave at Mel. He knows
just
about every pedestrian by name. People like Mel King are doing what
they’re supposed to be doing in the world, and the world gets safer
and
more humane because of their actions. And that is perfectly obvious
to
any kid who is lucky enough to witness it.
Role-playing a turtle withdrawing into its shell might make a child
feel
momentarily cozy -- (Though I can also imagine many a sensible child
taking the opposite message. “If my mom can only feel safe hiding under
a pretend turtle shell, then the world must be even scarier than I
thought!”) – but it doesn’t provide a helpful scaffolding. It doesn’t
give the child real-world, sensible, humane adult actions to witness
and, little by little, begin to practice.
Let’s allow our children to participate with us and observe us as we
simply do as we should. The message is implicit in our practice: Peace
and justice are possible.
Why not?
Cynthia Peters (cppk@email.msn.com) is a political activist, writer
and
editor. Thanks to Jennifer Gordon for making me aware of the work of
Lev
Vygotsky.