I was recently staying home from school with my daughter who was recovering from one of those fun viruses that seven year olds love to share with each other, and I was using the time to catch up on some reading homework. My colleague and I were running a parent book club on the book, Unselfie, by Michele Borba, Ed.D. One of the author’s very astute messages is that we adults have encouraged our kids to be self-absorbed, therefore, less empathetic, by placing too much value on achieving high grades, and less importance on empathising with and being kind to others.
I was reading this wonderful book with a mix of inspiration at what has been proven, and embarrassment at the fact that our society is at the point that this author has to prove the fact that teaching empathy is so important with a laundry list of research studies. I can’t decide if I’m feeling hopeful or completely discouraged about the state of things.
I should explain that the rational part of me feels that as an elementary school counselor, I have a shared responsibility to help children learn to be kind to each other in hopes of a better world for the next generation. I understand that their brains are still developing, especially the part that regulates empathy and impulse control, and so the kindness thing is a work in progress. Somedays, I feel like an anthropologist who is lucky enough to observe her subjects in their natural habitat and figure out what makes them tick. I’m learning more about our amazing species everyday, making me better equipped to help them learn and grow. However, the insecure part of me feels like I have failed at my job every time a child is mean to another.
Just as I’m eagerly reading about clever and practical ways of teaching children to be empathetic, my seven year old comes up to me and asks me what I’m reading. I tell her I’m reading a book about how to teach children to be kind. Then I ask her what she thinks is the best way to teach children to be kind. To be honest, I was secretly hoping for her to say something like, “Mommy, you taught me how to be kind by being you.” She didn’t say that. Instead, she put her hand over her heart and said, “I learned it from here.” My first reaction was to be annoyed. I was hoping for her to enlighten me on her species by sharing with me the secret, the key to unlocking the kid kindness code. Then I could just do that thing in my job and everyone would be happy, especially me.
When I got over my disappointment of not being handed the golden key, I realized that her answer was quite wise. Of course, all children possess the gift of empathy, to instinctively take care of one another. It’s why when a child falls down on the playground, at least three other children fight for the job of escorting him to the nurse: because it feels so good to help someone else. It’s why when I ask for volunteers to help make kindness posters for our school, or to deliver small teacher appreciation gifts during their recess, a mass of kids crowd around me asking how they can help. What was I worried about? These kids are going to be fine. Upon closer scrutiny, I think my real fear is that our generation of child rearing adults are not best equipped to nurture and encourage this innate ability that our little super humans possess. I truly believe that as parents, we all want the best for our children and are doing what we think is right in order to grow them into independent and successful adults. But what does kindness have to do with success? Actually, a lot. “It turns out that kids schooled in feelings are smarter, nicer, happier and more resilient than children who are less literate in their emotional ABCs.”
Most of us can probably remember those award ceremonies in grade school where a small number of students were acknowledged and praised for getting high grades on test scores. Maybe there were one or two kids who got the mysterious “good citizen” award. We all sat through those assemblies on the hard bleachers or uncomfortable metal folding chairs soaking up what we were meant to value, and it wasn’t kindness or empathy. I would say we got the message: in order to be successful,you should focus on getting better grades, rising to the top, achieving more than your classmates. If we were lucky enough to be one of the few who brought home one of those coveted awards, we were praised and rewarded by our parents.
Now here we are, trying our best to do right by our own children and asking ourselves if we’re doing it wrong. I mean, we know that kindness is important and all, but not as important as getting those awards, right? I know this from my own parental impulses to praise my children for their good test scores or high reading levels and then having to check my values at the door and ask myself what do I want my kids to work hard for? The joy of learning, or the fleeting rush that comes when receiving praise from your superiors? When I remember to slow down and ask this question, the answer is always clear.
In addition to the here’s a cookie for a good job trap we often fall into, I think we often miss out on a golden opportunity to teach our kids genuine empathy by the way we react when another child is mean to them. There is a huge culture of fear that has been created by too many stories of children having their lives ruined by being bullied, which is defined as a person or group of people doing targeted, repeated and purposeful mean or hurtful acts towards another person. I don’t mean to diminish the true sadness of those stories, but I do mean to suggest that maybe we aren’t looking at the whole story from different angles in order to learn how to stop these atrocities from happening. Are we making it worse by misguidedly, albeit innocently, trying to make it better?
I’ve talked to countless adults who are victims of this culture of fear of the other, the bully, the mean kid. It doesn’t matter what you call it, the only way we can imagine to truly protect our children from a terrible fate is to protect them from other kids being mean to them, by any means necessary. I have felt this very real parental impulse myself and I can attest to its primal strength. I dare say this impulse might inhibit us from thinking clearly and seeing multiple perspectives on the same problem. Because the truth is, a strong empathy muscle is good for both the victim and the aggressor. The victim is better equipped to not only identify and express her emotions but also recognize that the aggressor is also having emotions that lead her to be mean; therefore realizing that the mean behaviour isn’t really about them at all and not falling into victim mentality. Likewise, with a strong empathy skill set, an aggressor is more likely to imagine what it feels like to have these hurtful things done to them and either back off on the mean behaviour or at least show remorse and regret.
When a child asks for help because a friend has hurt their feelings, as a school counselor, I generally follow a version of these steps:
- Validate the feelings of the hurt child. Acknowledge their bravery in asking for help.
- Ask them if they felt like they could tell their friend what they did that hurt their feelings. If not, ask them if they’d like to do that with my support. (They almost always say yes.)
- Get the children face to face and allow them to share their perspectives with each other. Come up with a plan together about how to make sure feelings don’t get hurt in the future.
The hope is that we all go back to the playground feeling empowered, restored and ready to try again at this complicated friendship thing. Remember, their brains aren’t fully formed yet. Most of the time, these kinds of conversations with children end with each of us learning something about the other and becoming better for it.
But often, I get the message from parents that this is not enough. In various ways, the common theme from worried parents is, “The bad children should be separated from the good children,” or at least the bad children should be punished and/or shamed, and it should somehow be public knowledge so the parents can be sure the punishment fit the crime. In our culture of fear, this reaction makes sense. As educators, we often have the difficult job of educating the parent on the importance of maintaining empathy and reminding them that children are much like characters in a well written novel. They are neither bad nor good, but sometimes misguided by their experiences or circumstances. I’m putting all my money on the idea that keeping this in mind will help all children come out of interpersonal conflicts stronger, kinder and more self confident.
This is why our parent book club on Unselfie is such a joyful confirmation of our ability to abandon the previously held mantra of achievement above all. Every week, a group of brave parents sit together sipping tea and coffee with eager looks on their faces, alternating between professions of excitement and gratitude about what they are learning, and commiserations about not only the near impossibility of getting this parenting thing right, but the joy of trying. There is also a shared sentiment of, “Duh, how did we not think of this before? We must start placing a higher value on empathy with our kids right away!” One of everyone’s favorites in the group is the weekly homework, which is usually some kind of action that connects them with their children in a meaningful way. I leave those sessions once again feeling inspired, hopeful for the next generation.