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.

Hard Lesson

Snowflake is hitting the 7 month mark. This past month should be all about our weaning journey and yes, maybe it is, just that somehow, she's still as good as a milk baby. Short of force feeding her, she won't take solids. It's all a bit disconcerting because when I introduced solids last time, Cubling went to 3 meals a day in the space of a week, loved most foods and it was all good (which of course is overly simplified - she does not touch most fruit, and still demands being spoon fed on occasions).

This time, it appears that all attempts of introducing solids fail, in spite of being relaxed about it and having a wider variety of approaches available.
So I've tried baby rice and baby porridge. Only to be faced by a tightly shut mouth and desperate attempts by Snowflake to wrestle the spoon out of my hands. Oh, and the bowl. So she gets a spoon and I try again. She wants the spoon that I hold, sticks it far into her mouth until she gags. Gets the bowl (how does she do it, she gets it every single time!), pours contents over high chair, herself and everything in general.
It is impossible.

Thankfully I can just turn to baby led weaning and pretend I'm one of the cool gang. In theory, because if I'm perfectly honest, I hate the mess of baby led weaning with a passion. Some say it's the lazy way to weaning. Hm, I thought so initially, but then realised pureeing wins over washing the floor and high chair after every single meal. I'd rather do a neat spoon job.

What makes me inclined towards baby led weaning is that I can either force the food down my little girl, or let her have the say about food intake, especially as she seems to be keen to be in control herself. If respect is at the core of our interaction, forcing her to take the spoon is more than sending the wrong message. But then I see her gag rather a lot, and for the past few day, I have also seen her bring up all her solid food with the gagging, and I'm not so sure anymore.
Mention baby-led weaning in Germany and nobody has heard of it. So I can't get  much in the line of advice from my friends. It takes a lot of confidence in an approach to go with the flow to the extent that at 7 month hardly any solid food makes it into baby's system (which of course I can tell by what comes out the other end), ginger nut biscuits being the exception to this rule.

My mantra so far is that if a baby needs food, they will take it and that eventually we all end up eating solids. Maybe she acutally doesn't need it yet. There seems to be a physical lack of readiness - she's more than keen to pick up (she even has the pinching figured out) and put in her mouth, but she cannot sit up yet or chew the bits sufficiently for them not to cause gagging. I know that some babies refused solids up to 8 months, so we still have another while to go.

Once again, letting go of having control is what being a mum is teaching me. And it still is a hard lesson.

Parent engagement - room for improvement

The nursery is trying to engage parents, and it's an interesting experience seen from the other side. Having two hats on is sometimes quite useful, and can be enlightening. It's also awkward - as someone who works in the voluntary sector close to a parental engagement project, you know the theory and policy and practices underlying the attempt to engage with parents. The theory is that educational outcomes improve if parents are engaged in their children's education, especially if this happens in the early years - because parents are their children's main educator and the input of an early years centre/school is minimal in comparison.

So my older daughter's nursery is trying to engage me, alongside with all other parents of course. I'm on maternity leave, so I have time on my hand, an interest in getting a bit involved in the nursery too, which makes me a very easy target. What I'm about to write is not about a specific nursery, it's meant as constructive criticism which could be useful for any early years centre wishing to engage parents in a meaningful way.

My daughter has been attending this nursery for about 9 months now. When I drop her off or pick her up, there is hardly an acknowledgement of my person. There is no feedback volunteered, even when she had displayed separation anxiety in the morning - no reassurance even that she had a good day. Now that she's in the big room, parents are expected to drop off and just leave, they don't enter the room, the staff don't even bid the time of day to either parent or child. The interaction is by newsletter and through a wall which is filled with information on what children have been up to. I'm ok with that, it gives me a fair idea.

So far we had one item of written personalised feedback, which looked rather meaningless to me. We've had no one-to-one feedback (although her key worker in the first room was quite good at informal feedback). A parents evening was scheduled but cancelled. There was a fund day in the summer which was nice and I felt obliged to support it (it also raised funds for the nursery) but I didn't really get anything out of it for me or my child.

Then there are letters sent to me through my daughter. Reminders about sponsorship forms, the toy fund donations - neither of which are donations, which the wording of the letter makes more than clear. In fact the wording seriously pees me off, it's patronising and threatening, as well as disrespectful.

A parent group was offered, on a weekday morning at 10.30am. I was the only parent who turned up. Apparently, the idea was to get feedback from parents. Hm, that was a fail then.

I offered, now that I have a bit of time, to share some of my daughter's culture through exploring German festivities. This was welcomed but instantly I was reminded of all the rules and regulations in relation to child safeguarding (which I know too well, if only they asked me before starting the litany!). I got a general sense of an attitude that is reluctant of exploring new opportunities, where a "we can't" is more easily uttered than a "let's see how we can do this".

Then there's a bookbug week, where parents are invited to read stories with their children in the nursery. I can see where they're coming from, knowing from various primary school teachers that some children start school without ever having seen a book or having heard a story. I went along, to be interrupted while I was reading a book to my daughter (I thought it was about reading books?) to be told how important it is for literacy development to regularly share books and how to incorporate it into a daily routine, a routine which in itself gives security to the child. The tone was patronising, though I also noticed that the nursery teacher wasn't entirely comfortable in her role. All the parents who were there clearly do read books with their children, because if you don't, would you bother coming to this event? If you yourself had low levels of literacy or weren't confident to read books to your children, would you not shy away from such a public display? Would you in fact know about the event, not being able to read the newsletter? Just wondering. It felt daft to be told such basic advice, and I'm sure the other parents felt much the same.

I commend the efforts of the nursery to engage parents, but as it stands, I have a feeling it's not very successful. I suggested to run the parent group just after drop off at 9am so that parents with commitments don't have to lose too much time. But it's not about getting some parents involved in this group - parental engagement is about creating an ease of interaction between nursery staff and parents, which isn't there.

-To start with, I'd recommend to start with a brief exchange with parents at the start and end of their child's day. Be friendly, and get to know the families a little over time.

-Once you know the families, explore real opportunities of exchange and sharing. Think about what parents can add to the education of all the children. Pursue how to do this in a creative way. Don't find excuses why something is too complicated, instead acknowledge the rules but work with them.

-If you want a parents group, explain to parents what the remit of this is, and what they or their child gets out of it. Parents have busy lives and don't want to waste precious time. If you need MY participation to tick YOUR box, I'm likely not to turn up.

-Improve written communication to parents. You see, I may forget the toy fund one month, but I really just need a gentle (even spoken) reminder, not to be told off as if I don't care about my child!

-And as for sponsorship, oh please don't expect me to go around my neighbours to collect money for my child's Christmas present. It's not my neighbours' responsibility or interest. Just tell me what you want off me and I'll pay up, just don't call it sponsorship and give me a form.

-I also don't like giving to charities that I haven't chosen myself, animal charities are already getting enough, why don't you support a children's charity, being a nursery?

-If you knew me a bit better, you'd know that I don't need told about how good sharing books is. Tell me something I don't know, like how to deal with a whinging pre-schooler who won't feed herself. The reading books bit I'm quite good at, it's the other stuff I could need a bit of help with.

-Treat parents as equals who are effective contributors to their children's education, not as people needing educated about how to raise kids.

On Saturday, I Walked the Fire

Yes, you heard right. I walked the fire. Whenever I mention that I did a fire walk, people look at me blankly, not quite understanding. So it takes a bit of explaining. You know that thing some mad people do (me), chopping down wood with an axe, building a pyre , then lighting it, before walking across the ambers of the fire with their bare feet? Yeah? Well, I walked across those ambers with my bare feet.

Why oh why would I do such a stupid thing?
Reasons there are many. The occasion was the loss of another three amazing colleagues to redundancy. After a massive restructure, a lot of my colleagues have lost their jobs. Fortunately, most of them found really great new challenges so it's not all as bad as it sounds. Yet there had to be a proper seeing them off. So, inspired by a glass walk once done with a group of young people, a fire walk was arranged at a colleagues farm, with camping night to round it all off.

We started off at 4pm with workshops that set the scene. This fire walk was not about imagining a wet mossy carpet, nonono, it was about being very aware of the heat, the risk, the danger, the madness of it all. Apparently the fire is about 1600 Fahrenheit hot. Just as well that mean absolutely nothing to me as I don't do Fahrenheit. I believe it's rather hot though. Like, it melted a stocking, and even moving the ambers into place with a rake made my face burn. The workshops were all about exploring fear and the effect it has on each person's life, how it keeps us from reaching our full potential, how fear can be real and necessary to protect us but also a barrier, and a fear of something that is not actually dangerous. Knowing the difference is the key.

So the firewalk became a symbol for overcoming fear, for taking charge and making a decision, for reaching out for the impossible and going for it. More than that the idea is also to make a personal decision, and to take responsibility for all our actions, thoughts and words from here on forward.

This is all very empowering stuff. The firewalk thus was meant to be a very personal, individual achievement. It was a right of passage, a ritual, in our lives where such ritual, sacred or not, has lost meaning. There was to be no peer group pressure, the decision to walk the fire was to be personal, with a right for the decision to be not to walk the fire.

As the moment drew nearer, my fear increased. There was no doubt in my mind that that fire was hot and my feet were just made of skin. This is what the fire looked like:


And these are the ambers just before I walked over them:
HOT.
I looked. I thought, this is impossible. I was sure I was not going to do it.

But remember, there was a group of us, and as we started walking around the fire in a circle, clapping rhythmically, with bodhrans and other percussion sounds, and as one by one people walked across the fire, my desire to do it too became stronger. I felt supported, not pressured to do it. I was still very ok with deciding not to cross the fire. I observed the ambers. Plotted a path that didn't look quite so hot. Calculated the number of steps needed (4). Focussed on the path, the ambers, gathered my fear, and took it across the ambers with me.

The question that keeps nagging at me is this: Would I have done it without the groups support? Was it really just my personal choice to walk it, did it really empower me, or did I succumb to peer group pressure that I had rationalised into group support to help me achieve what I wanted? How about the way we shouted at each other "I'm going to walk the fire and so are you" in the workshop? Does that sound like taking responsibility of your own actions? Or did we push each other?

Above all, as soon as the question was put up "what keeps you from reaching your full potential?" all I could think was, what is my full potential? Why do I have to reach it? At which expense? You see, I have talents that I chose not to pursue because I don't see the values of them beyond my own little niche. I'm a good researcher, I could have had an academic career. That was my potential, a potential I don't care much for any longer. Instead I'm doing something that I find harder, that stretches me very often, that makes me at times insecure. Looked at it from another perspective, if all a person aspires is to reach their full potential, this will clearly be at the expense of those around them. It's selfish, unsocial.

There's a balance to be addressed, those of one's own ambitions and those of the people affected by these ambitions. We don't live in a vacuum. While I see the benefit of the firewalk for those who live in fear and who have disempowered lives (and I'm told it works wonders to liberate in this context), I didn't quite buy it.

So, while my colleagues are all full of new energy and feel transformed, I enjoyed the experience but do not feel that my life has changed as a consequence. I'm glad I did it, I'm amazed I did it, and it made me realise that if I set my mind to something, I can overcome fear and I can, to use the German phrase, step over my shadow: overcome my demons. It also showed me how a supportive group, a team, can help people reach higher.

Yet I still don't by into the reaching my potential business. Maybe I choose not to reach my potential and seek the wisdom within me, as the angel card I picked suggested. What I do buy into are the notions of respect and responsibility for my own actions, thoughts and words and I shall endeavour to try and take that responsibility more seriously.

Oh, and the fire didn't hurt in case you were wondering. No blister, no nothing. And I still rationalise this, rather than believing in the power of my mind to do it.