Smack those kids!?

On Tuesday morning, my first day back at work, which also meant back to listening to the radio on my commute, I first heard about the London riots. My first thoughts were bewilderment. I didn't know about the police shooting, it had bypassed me as it only can bypass someone who forgets to switch on TV and radio for a full weekend. My first question was "Why?" Yet all there was was people talking about "those kids" how they weren't disciplined enough and they knew no boundaries. There was no coverage of the motifs of the perpetrators, as if they had relinquished their right to voice their views, when really, if you want to tackle this violence it kind of helps to understand why those kids went off the rails. You know, tackling it at the root rather than letting it escalate even further?

It was only this morning that I had a first glimpse of how the young people saw this whole thing. From their words (selective as they may be) it was clear that a) they knew they were doing something wrong b) they didn't think there were any real consequences to their behaviour, c) they could afford the stuff but why pay if they can loot and d) when asked if someone robbed their house and set it on fire what they would think it was clear that this was a totally different story to them.

To me, this demonstrates a few things. First up is an unawareness that the destruction actually harms anyone in any serious way. It's a laugh. It's a bit of fun. The destruction to them doesn't harm anyone they care about and there was no moral barrier to stealing, as it was directed against shops that are big chains and can afford a bit of damage or are insured. Those young people didn't care about what and whom they were damaging. They didn't empathise with the shopowners and other people who were damaged as a consequence of their action.

Secondly, there is the lack of consequences of their actions that are serious enough to act as a deterrent. A criminal record? So what. Prison? It won't be for long. There is no sense that a criminal record may be an obstacle in life. Thinking back, the stuff that deterred me as a youngster were much more to do with worry how I would look in the eyes of my family, neighbours, teachers, and other role models..

Thirdly, underlying is an us and them mentality which in turn got really drummed in through the coverage in the media: Those kids that know no boundaries, they are the minority, we are respectable citizens, our society is under threat by the action of criminal youngsters. Yet really, these young people are our society, as much as you and I are. Underlying this behaviour is an already existing perception of not being part of society, of now owing anything. Disenfranchised young people who have little opportunities to succeed in life, who don't see that in working together and behaving in ways that makes for good living together reaps benefits and is worthwhile pursuing. Their only creed is to their gang, to the cool peer group, fuelled by dare devil behaviour (which in itself is a part of being a young male and perfectly normal).

So what causes this perspective? There are a few reasons that I would suggest. First of all, it's the makeup of our society. While we live in a rich country, the difference between the richest and the poorest is growing ever more, and with it, as research has shown, the rates of violence, crime and antisocial behaviour. A society that is perceived as unjust will create members who do not feel the need to respect the society as a whole. Instead, they will only respect those in their stratum/class/gang - you pick the word (The Guardian's Nina Power has put this part of my point much more eloquently than I could ever do).

The call has been loud that these kids need discipline, smacking, authority figurest that show them boundaries and consequences. But you know what? I think that will be futile because they know they are doing something wrong, they know the boundaries and chose to overstep them! Tough parenting has been called for and parents have been blamed. I agree and I disagree: Yes, poor parenting contributes and allows for children to rebel in such a way and neglectful parenting (i.e. not knowing where your child is or not caring much or worse of course) doesn't help. But discipline and smacking are not going to turn bad kids into good kids. Since when has violence (smacking is violence) ever convinced a child to be good? All it does is to force into submisson - temporarily usually. The same goes with a criminal record or some time spent in prison. When a person has chosen to do the wrong thing knowing the consequences, disciplining or penalising them will have little success.

If the young people involved in the riots demonstrate a lack of respect and empathy for those they have damaged, wouldn't it be a better approach to show our kids respect and empathy, to teach them by example but also by explaining to them why respectful behaviour is important? Explaining to them that people have feelings and we need to be mindful of these feelings? Explaining about property and the real cost of making things, how it's not about just the monetary value but the resources, time and effort that go into making things, which therefore need to be respected? Our aim needs to be to raise children who can distinguish between good and bad AND make the right choice.

What's more I understand that the young people have little regard for material items or the people whose property they damaged. We live in a society where everything is available cheeply and where we are detached from many people (and the more detached you are, the less you care). As one of the youngsters said - he could afford to buy the stuff he stole, but why pay if you can get it for free? In a throwaway consumer society it is easier to steal because material objects don't have real value any more. In a society where only your peer group matters, where you have lost connections to a range of different people, where the only role models are in your peer group or on the x-factor, people's feeling also have no value anymore.

So I'll be radical and suggest to show and teach our kids to make things from scratch. Instil a sense of value, purpose, skill, creativity and effort. And I dare you show me one young person who has been raised with respect, empathy and learned how to make things to set those things on fire. And get that inequality in this country sorted - because even I, well adjusted, peaceloving treehugger that I am, feel rather angry seeing the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. Angry enough to imagine throwing a stone into a Mercedes Benz or an iPad.

Between the sunshine and the storm

Outside, the sunshine and the storm are shaking hands.
It feels a bit like the inside of me. Some days are beautifully sunny. We have fun, we laugh, we hug, we play and make.
Other days, our wills go in different directions, like winds blowing apart and creating a storm. A vicious circle starts that often ends in an adult version of a temper tantrum.

I'm not proud of it, but more than that, it's not the person I want to be or even think I am. It's like looking at a stranger lost in a wave of emotion. It's above all not the mum I want to be. It brings back painful memories of behaviour like a stuck record, impossible to break through and change. I hear the ever repeated phrases of my own mother coming out of my mouth, and a widening gap develop between me and my child. She, the spirited girl, is defiant. She dodges any control I try to impose on her. She is not a child to be controlled. I've reached a point where it's not just her behaviour that worries me, but my own too, and where I have to admit that it's not some outside influence creating defiant behaviour, but that it's my own making.

Something has to change and today marks the first day of this change.

I've read a lot about what is happening. In transformational analysis, I learned that communicative interaction is shaped by our experience and that you have to know your buttons and make an attempt to overcome them. I always saw myself as an obedient, shy child with a fraught mother-daughter relationship, who was ever keen to please. Until my dad described me as the same defiant child that I now see in front of me. And then memory kicked in. Memory of anger, slammed doors, frustrations, and my defiant behaviour being ignored so it would go away (which it didn't). Suddenly I realised that I find myself trapped in the communicative patterns that I myself was brought up in. A different level of empathy with Cubling materialised. She is me. I am her. I know how she feels. 

I found myself parenting through threats and rewards, through coercion even. It is most certainly not the way I ever planned to parent my children, so what had happened? How come I hear my own mother speaking through my mouth (who in turn was speaking with her mother's words)? Even though my parents didn't do a bad job at parenting, it's just that I want to do a better one because even though I turned out ok (I hope anyway), my confidence levels were always low and I wasn't a particularly resilient child, so I'm keen to at least try to do things differently.

Another cause for the current situation is that when I realised that Cubling was a spirited child, all the advice was to set clear boundaries and be consistent. I believed it and was convinced this was the way to go. Just that Cubling couldn't care less about boundaries, her curiosity and intensity takes the better of her, it is quicker than any consideration for "boundaries".
To put it bluntly, trying to control her curiosity and intensity is impossible. Boundaries only lead to confrontation, anger, defiance and evasion. She now lies. She insists I tell the untruth when I don't. Those weapons are pretty effective because there's nothing I can do about it - the ultimate control is hers.


As for me, levels of stress have sored and many a day I was unhappy. There was a gap between wanting to enjoy this precious time of maternity leave and being the parent I want and hope to be and the reality of being so stressed out that I wished I wasn't just at home.

Something has to change. And though it's hard to change behaviour patterns that are so deeply rooted that they go back to my own childhood, I believe that change is possible. So:

On my weekly trip to the library, I addressed the stress issue first. Found out that you need to identify your triggers, your buttons that stress you out. I've done some watching of myself, some reflection of what causes my frustrations.

As to Cubling, I asked her to tell me when she didn't like the tone I was using to speak to her. And she does, she is not fearful to tell me that she doesn't like me to be annoyed, tense or angry. Her telling me, and putting a name to the underlying emotion of my words, helps me to understand what is happening - both to me, and how it affects her. It also helps me to change.

I resolved not to use any threat, reward or coercion to control her actions. Instead, I listened, explain reasons and consequences (and only allow natural consequences) and ask for her cooperation when I need her to do something.

Today, I managed the first full day without a single shout, without a single attempt to control Cubling. And we had a fabulous day. We were a team. There were only smiles.
It was actually rather perfect.

(Moss and squirrel, because Cubling likes them)

of triggers and spirals

Yesterday, in spite of a post that desperately tried to cling on to the positives, something triggered a downward spiral. Those spirals are strange things that can happen to people, and fortunately I don't get them very often. Even in times of bitter and deep sadness and grief, where days hold wells of tears, they don't necessarily take me down that dark and unpleasant place that one particularly strong spiral made me visit yesterday.

It made me wonder about the significance of triggers, and the underlying causes. Not that I'm any wiser. It's as if there is no reason I can put my finger on, all I have is knowledge of the trigger. With a day's distance and being back in control of the eye taps (at least most of the time), it's clear that the trigger was mainly that. This makes it more complicated because of the outburst of anger that followed the trigger. This cannot be ignored and it will revisit me. I lost controll and don't even regret it. At the same time I don't want to revisit before it's back on the balancing board.

What it felt like yesterday was more than unpleasant. A feeling of a world collapsing, the worthlessness of all my strive, the inability to see any light. Mr Cartside tried his best to alert me to the negativity that kept streaming out of me, in an attempt to stop the flow, and to try and divert it to the positive. But all I felt was negativity and I could not, would not divert it, could not focus on the positive. Something had shook me at the core of who I thought I am, spitting on it, and telling me that it was all but an illusion.

For as much as I analysed the trigger, I can't find the underlying reason, other than the implications of the trigger which go something along the line of lack of trust, potential of exploitation and lack of acknowledgement. Why this tickled my funny bone, I don't know. Normally I would stand firmly above this and confidently and sensibly defuse the situation. This time, my fuse blew.

The day was completed on autopilot, neverending activity, the comfort of the usual drag of end of day housework. Cubling wanted to play hide and seek. Mummy wasn't playing. I should have felt bad about this, yet I didn't. There was no trace of fun or smiles left, instead clear reluctance to engage with anyone, even my beloved little girl.

The fascinating bit is that this hole is unimaginable from the perspective of my normal being, it is so far removed, it turns me into an entirely different person. This is what depression and mental illness must be like for many a lot of the time, the lack of understanding of the profoundity experienced when interacting with other people and inability to escape the power of the mind. Let me be clear - I'm not clinically depressed, never have been, and I take comfort out of knowing that I will feel better soon. This is a mere visit of the dark side, I am very lucky in this respect.

For now, I seem to have managed to get out of the quicksand at the bottom of the pit, and I have a feeling it will take me a little while yet, lots of rows of knitting and a few more teary outbursts to lift myself out of it and return to normal.

Now all I need to decide is whether to click "post" or not. The argument for posting is that in better times I'd be able to look back at what this feels like, and with me, others who may be in the same state I am in. The hope that analyising brings clarity and healing. The argument for not posting would be that I'd be seen as a drama queen, not being taken seriously, making myself vulnerable when I already am. The knowledge that I'll have to defend posting this if I do hit the post button. The knowledge that I'm being defensive already. That wretched defensiveness that is my shadow.

I feel I've hit a button. No, not that one. Yet.