Columbine and sleepless nights

I was in my first year of teaching when the Columbine high school shooting happened.  As with the recent Chardon High School shooting, adults were left to ponder what could drive a kid to such extremes.  (As Chris Rock says in Bigger and Blacker, "What music was they listening to?) And then as now, the recurring theme is that each adolescent needs one adult they can talk to.  One adult who takes them seriously.  Notice that it is not one adult who CARES; most of the kids have that.  It is the listening and taking them seriously that we have trouble with.

As a young teacherI was struck by how much we dismiss adolescents' experiences.  It is hard not to roll your eyes when you hear a 14 year old go on about how she can't go on now that her boyfriend (of 2 weeks) is seeing someone else.  Or even if you are incredibly empathetic, our first instinct is to minimize the emotion, tell them that they won't remember him a year or two because WE know that on the scale of human suffering, there is much more to come and that, with perspective, this really is a small thing.

The problem is, that they don't have our perspective yet.  This may be the biggest heartache of their life to date.  And our effort to put it into perspective, might be seen as a quick dismasal of their experience.  An adult saying, "Your problem isn't real."

And when it comes to kids trying to get help for or with another kid, adults actually tell them not to "tattle."  Adults tell kids to work problems out themselves all the time, making sure they get the message that their problem isn't real, or that they need to be more independent.  In short, we create their parallel universe.

Case in point:
A teacher in a school I taught in caught a student trying to commit suicide.  It turns out he had attempted suicide a number of times in front of other students, both in and out of school.  We thought we had close, open relationships with our students and I asked a student why she hadn't told us what she had witnessed and she told me she had tried.  She reminded me of the day she told me he was so depressed and I cut her off at the pass, saying he was just melodramatic.  Read: Get over it.  He'll get over it.  And he may have.  Or he may not have.

So what does this have to do with my sleepless nights with Grant and Zoe?  As I was laying there for the 10th time in that angry place between the depths of sleep and full cognition, thinking that if I ignore Grant's wimpers that he may go back to sleep, I remembered that his problems are real to him and that I need to listen.  He's full enough.  He's dry enough.  He's not in any pain that I can perceive, but apparently, he still needs me.

If we want our children to come to us as adolescents with their problems, why do we begin teaching them in infancy that they should sort it out themselves?  That they should "self soothe"?  Why do we tell them as elelmentary students that they shouldn't tattle and should work it out?  They come to us because they don't have the language or the skills.

For well over a year I have been using trusty frienployee Ruth's phrase, "Can I have the next turn please" to prompt Zoe when she is in a tugging battle.  Usually it works.  She needs help knowing how to negotiate the tricky world of toddler toy sharing.  I hear her using it and coming up with her own scripts more and more.

So, here we are almost 15 years later, still pondering instead of listening.

Tip to try:
When your child (or adolescent or adult even!) comes to you with a problem figure out what they want before they even launch into the story.  Ask if they want help, commiseration, or just a friendly ear.  It's really frustrating to have someone try to solve your problem when you just want empathy or to get something off your chest.