Parenting for failure

Posted on August 27, 2010 by heidi

Screaming children, kafuffle in the other room. I hear the littlest one crying. And the oldest one screams “Mom! Adam hit Cam!”

Oh for pete’s sake! As I round the corner into the TV room, Adam immediately launches into his defense. “I didn’t mean to!! I was just playing with the yo-yo and Cam walked into my way and it hit him but it wasn’t my fault…”

It struck me in that moment – why am I engaging in this conversation? There is a lack of empathy in this picture that bothers me, as Cam grasps his head and sobs. What do I do that makes Adam feel like he has to defend himself, feeling his “security” threatened enough (in Maslow’s terms) to ignore his hurt brother?

How often do I rush in, responding quickly with “what’s going on here?” or “who did this?” How often have I forced them to make their “case” to me, so that I can assess blame and assign appropriate punishment? Of course, I’ve never looked at it that way – I’ve just been doing my “appropriate” parenting duty, right? Teaching them the “right” way to act. Or so I’ve assumed…

But now, it’s looking differently to me…

The adult as the “investigator” (or as judge/jury) sends some unhelpful messages, doesn’t it? We do, indeed, teach them something, but is it what we WANT to teach our kids?

We teach them to immediately start formulating their case. We teach them to work harder to not get caught next time. Our displeasure with them motivates them to try to deflect blame or claim innocence. And we teach them that making mistakes is about the last thing you want to do, let alone admit to doing…

What I want to teach my children is that failure and mistakes are a necessary part of learning, change and growth. I want to teach my children to value themselves and each other, to care for each other, to admit when they’ve made a mistake and accept themselves as human, so that they can move forward without self judgment or fear.

Hmmm… Mismatch of what I want and what I am doing…

So flash back to that moment – little one crying, middle one justifying, oldest tattling…

I get down on one knee, make loving eye contact and say (in a quiet, calm voice) “Hold on Adam – I’m not blaming you. Let’s have a look at what needs to happen right now. Your brother is crying. What do you think you could do?”

“Oh! Oh yeah!” He stopped and looked at his little brother. Immediately, his whole demeanor changed. He rushed over to Cam, stroked his back, looked in his face and said “I’m so sorry Cam. I didn’t mean to hurt you! Is there anything I can do to help?”

Tears got wiped dry, hugs were exchanged, apologies accepted. The empathy and compassion were all there, once I shifted my attitude, took away the blame and shame, and created a safe space for them to care for one another!

And lightbulbs shine brightly over my head tonight!

What I learned was that I don’t need to “fix” them. I don’t need to “lecture” them. I don’t even need to “teach” them (in that moment).

I need to love them. I need to make sure they are feeling loved and safe. I need to plant seeds, ask questions and model authentic, compassionate behavior. And I need to be aware of the outcomes of my actions (not just my intentions).

After the upset passed, then I took the opportunity for shared learning. I asked them what we could learn from what happened. To recognize that we’re all human beings, that we all make mistakes and that we can all learn together – I didn’t focus on Adam and his actions. I focused on what we could ALL learn. And it took the embarrassment and fear out of failure – by making it a shared experience and discussion.

We talked not only about remembering not to swing things around that could hurt people. We also talked about how to support each other in remembering to act appropriately – in non-judgmental, supportive ways. We talked about making sure to FIRST look after anyone that’s been hurt – to act with care and compassion. And we talked about why we want to learn together instead of blame one person.

Most of all, I took the first step towards a family culture that makes it okay to fail without fear and to learn together with love!

Posted in Learning With My Kids, Raising Our Children, Teaching | 5 Comments

Culture Shock

Posted on May 11, 2010 by heidi

Attending the Northern Voice Conference this year was, as usual, a thought provoking, learning experience – though not entirely what I’d expected…

This is the third year I’ve attended NV. The first time, I had barely started blogging. It was still very much an experiment – I was talking out loud as I searched my soul and navel-gazed my way through over-thinking, self-doubt, “ah-ha” moments and many churning emotions. No one actually read my blog except for a few people “out there” – so it was a “safe” way to discuss what I normally kept hidden. I even considered NOT putting my blog URL on my registration. I attended most of the “101” sessions and ate lunch on my own – after all, I didn’t have a “network” yet!

The second time I attended NV was dramatically different. I had discovered Twitter about half way between those two events. Although I’d signed up for a Twitter account earlier, I didn’t “get it” the first time I tried it. (a common experience, I suspect!) But then Dave Truss talked to me about the learning and conversations he was getting from Twitter – I was intrigued… He also gave me some hints for getting a network started. Connected me with some people in the educational and edtech communities. As I jumped in, asking questions and participating in conversations, I was hooked! And at NV09, I had a different experience as a result. Now I knew some people – particularly @injenuity, who introduced me to others at the conference.

As a result, my second time at Northern Voice was much more about the people and the connections. Here was a group of people that were also passionate about more than just the technology – who were using blogs and twitter and social media to connect, to engage, to learn, to self reflect and ask for feedback. The conversations blew my mind – finally I had found a whole bunch of people (not just one at a time) with whom I could talk for hours and never stop learning! Even the idle chit chat had depth. At lunch, a conversation started about “imposter syndrome” – with such honesty, these amazing people talked about their fears. Wow! I’m not alone… The power of finding like-minded learners was intoxicating for me – and with chaos reigning supreme in my personal life, I stopped blogging and became obsessed with Twitter and the flow of conversations and connections that I lacked in my day to day reality.

Neither Twitter nor blogging are the “obsessions” that they once were for me – I’ve found that I use them as I need. They are only part of my toolkit now. Learning in my online spaces, where I felt safe to expose my thoughts and fears to this caring community, opened doors of possibility for my “real world” life. I’m figuring out how to trust myself and surround myself with trusted friends who are also striving for authenticity and joy. How amazing it has been to see how we lift each other up, inspiring each other to be our best selves, lending a hand when another “falls”. My mix of online/offline community is now a “place” where I am confident both supporting others AND being supported – often providing timely observations that allow me to grow and step out of old, well-worn patterns.

So this third Northern Voice Conference was a natural extension – an exciting time to reconnect with familiar friends, to meet some new and to match faces to Twitter IDs (like figuring out that @clintlalonde isn’t actually a 10yo with glasses anymore…) It was also a much larger group than it was last year – I believe the conference had twice the attendees as previous years.

So why was I surprised? It started in Chris Lott, Brian Lamb and Alan Levine’s session about whether #blogsaredead or #blogsarealive. As the discussion milled about, there was talk of monetization and commercialization of blogs and how that moved away from blog as art or self reflective practice. I commented that we didn’t have to follow any trends – that we could just continue to do what is “right”… And another person in the audience immediately responded, his exact words forgotten, but the jist of it was about how judgmental it is to assume what is “right”…

That started me thinking. What a valid point – I was, indeed, judging others who monetize their blogs as not being “true” to the “real” benefit of blogging. I was judging them by my values – not allowing that there are multiple reasons to blog, all just as valid as my own. Who was I to decide how a tool “should” be used or not?

With the growing use of social media, its uses are also expanding. Perhaps my discomfort with it becoming “mainstream” is really that it’s no longer within my “community” – and it’s no longer just being used in ways that align with my beliefs and values.

Oh, tolerance is easy to talk about, isn’t it? It’s much more challenging to actually “be” tolerant when someone with significantly different beliefs is challenging your view of the world.

Then came the discussion on Twitter last night about children at the conference, how much (or little) they disrupt things and people speaking up to point out that they have absolutely no desire to have children near them. It was hard for me at first to believe that a human being could actually feel that way! And yet, I quickly recognized that was silly of me – of course there are people with all sorts of perspectives and values! I can’t imagine feeling that way, but who am I to judge whether that is a valid experience for them or not?

It finally struck me that these thoughts and feelings are simply the symptoms of two different communities, with differing motivations/values, coming together in one space and time. I’m having a moment of “culture shock”…

In her discussion of culture shock, Janet M. Bennett compares culture shock to the tensions and anxieties we face whenever change threatens the stability of our lives. Her main argument is that culture shock is only a subcategory of transition shock.

She defines transition shock as: a state of loss and disorientation precipitated by a change in one’s familiar environment that requires adjustment.

Source Article

Hmmm… Requires adjustment…

This rings true to me right now. Northern Voice is in a state of transition right now – and rightly so! It has grown. The use of social media has expanded and matured. This is an opportunity for us to recognize the unique communities that come together around the table we call “social media” and practice tolerance for each other.

And that, in my opinion, must include respect for each others’ perspectives and needs. I want the child friendly aspects to continue – that parents can come, participate in the conference, and arrange for shared childcare when needed. I also want opportunities for adult learning and networking, without having to be conscious of whether conversation is child appropriate or not.

I’d like to see Northern Voice 2011 be conscious of how we provide both. Sessions can be defined, by the presenters, as child friendly or not – and advertise them that way. That way presenters know what to expect and attendees have the opportunity to select sessions that suit their preferences.

I also think it may be time for a “community social media” conference. Perhaps a spin-off of Northern Voice – built on many of the fantastic ideas and structures that make NV so unique! But I want to create something with a focus on families, co-learning, student involvement, teaching parents about social media, creative sessions, doing social good and building community! I wouldn’t want it to be INSTEAD of Northern Voice – but IN ADDITION to…

I’ve been chewing on this idea for a while now. Perhaps it’s time to just do it…

Posted in People Are Grey, Personal Leadership | 3 Comments

Love is the opposite of safe

Posted on May 2, 2010 by heidi

I’ve thought a lot about love and relationships. Not just “romantic” relationships, but all friendships in my life – how I select who I have in my life? How that supports the person I strive to be? How I support others to be their best selves?

I’ve spent lots of time thinking about why I selected my ex as a life partner? Why I’ve always felt like I’ve “failed”? Why I struggled to trust myself and others? I’ve tried to understand what brought me to this point? Why do I judge myself so harshly? What things in my life “created” me as the person that I am and how do I raise my own children to NOT have the struggles that I’ve had? Or do deal with them better?

A newsletter from Buddhist writer Susan Piver struck me between the eyes last week. Although I’ve “known” these things before, I was ready for her words to resonate deeply within me…

Too often, you think that you’ve  ”brought this heartbreak on yourself by carrying forward unhealed wounds from childhood or, god forbid, by thinking the wrong thoughts. I kind of hate this. Of course it’s really, really important to heal your wounds and to examine your thoughts to see if they might be sabotaging you—but when the intention for doing so is to avoid pain rather than increase your capacity to love, it is unlikely to heal you. This kind of advice is often out to convince you that you can create a safe world for yourself and that you can make love safe.

Love can never be made safe. It is the opposite of safe. The moment you try to make it safe, it ceases to be love. I realize this is a bummer, but think about it. Love is predicated on receptivity, on opening up again and again and again to your beloved, each time afresh. To do this, you have to let go of insisting that he or she conform to your standards for what a lover should look like, do, be, say, and instead allow him or her to simply be him or herself. Then you take it from there. To do otherwise, to continually choose who you wish this person was over who he or she actually is, is, well, it’s not love. I don’t know what it is. (Of course none of this stands to reason should any form of emotional or physical abuse be present. At this point you can forget everything I just said and protect yourself.)

Most often, the efforts to heal a broken heart center around putting it behind you and recreating the illusion of safety. Buddhism counsels something else, something best said by the American Buddhist nun, Pema Chodron: “Feel the feelings. Drop the story.” That is the pith advice and it means turning toward what you feel, not away. It means letting the feelings be just what they are without trying to explain them, shore your self up, or excuse or blame anyone. This is called being a warrior. The more you allow feelings to burn clean in this way, the less confusion you create.”

Just reading “love isn’t supposed to be safe” struck me like a cattle prod. I’ve recently had people either compliment me on my persistent drive for authenticity or criticize me/wonder why I over think things or continually “push” myself further. Both perspectives didn’t sit right with me – I couldn’t quite figure out why until now. I keep pushing myself because I don’t want to be “safe” but unhappy. I choose to be “uncomfortable”, to venture into unknown territory, and to learn gradually how to be open and unstable, yet accepting of all that comes.

It’s a difficult path for me to walk. But I don’t want to choose differently either, in order to make it easier or “safe”…

Posted in Finding Myself, Living A Purposeful Life, My Journey, Raising Our Children | 1 Comment

Where do memories reside?

Posted on January 16, 2010 by heidi

Via @bryanjack on twitter, I found myself reading Andrea’s blog post about endings and old vs new – and it raised more thoughts than would fit in a comment…

I got thinking about how often I assign meaning, memories and emotions to a thing, or a place, or a song or smell? Why do I hold onto things as a way to remember people?

My Dad died seven years ago now and shortly after that, my Mom moved to a much smaller house that was more manageable. As a result, my brothers and I all chose some items of furniture or such that we wanted.

I chose an old, green rocking chair that reminded me of my Dad. I remember that it sat next to the old, black, dial telephone on Dad’s desk. I remember sitting in that chair while Dad worked at his desk – paying bills, doing taxes, filing paperwork. I remember my Dad sitting in that chair, quietly reading a book and gently rocking back and forth.

Before my Dad died, I remember my husband’s grandparents passing away (within six months of each other) – and the resulting process of dispersing their worldly goods. Somehow, all of their “stuff” had go to new homes – their furniture, dishes, nic-nacs, jewelry, clothing, half-finished quilts, knitting needles, cutting boards, etc… It wasn’t always easy either! What to do when several people had memories and attachments to the same items?

And more recently, I’ve been thinking deeply about the life I want to live, and the stress that “stuff” can create as we have to keep it clean and put away. Having less “stuff” makes my live less stressful and more enjoyable.

So why do I hold on to that old green chair?

It’s a physical reminder of my Dad – the person that he was, the memories of being near him, the relationship that we had…

And yet, those memories don’t reside within the chair. That’s just a reminder, just a prompt. Those memories can never disappear, even if the chair is gone.

I’ve thought a lot about how to keep memories alive without these kinds of reminders. Sometimes it’s a photograph. Sometimes it’s the little things I say to my own children that I remember from my Dad. Sometimes it’s a passing thought.

But what’s most clear to me is that my memories don’t reside within the things around me – they’re part of me and who I am. I like that I don’t have to clutter my life with “stuff” in order to hold onto parts of who I am or what I care about. I’m grateful that I’ve learned to focus on what’s really important to me – all of the “stuff” I need is already inside of me.

And I hope that my children will learn, as a result, that material things aren’t what’s really important!

Posted in Finding Myself, Raising Our Children | 2 Comments