A near-crisp morsel from Pimp My Novel. Chappy Channukah, one and all.
We yell at our children because we can.
In Hilary Stout’s recent for The New York Times, the former Wall Street Journal every-position-you-can-name-in-19-years-of-employment references a national study where, of the 1,300 parents asked, two-thirds “named yelling — not working or spanking or missing a school event — as their biggest guilt inducer … Parental yelling today may be partly a releasing of stress for multitasking, overachieving adults, parenting experts say.”
Here;s hoping those experts didn’t spend too much on that study.
The eye-opener here is not that we do it, or that damages the children we love purportedly more than anything on earth. It’s that we are finally looking at what yelling actually is: verbal abuse.
My childhood was loaded with abuse. While the physical and sexual elements were more immediately life-threatening, the verbal abuse was no less damaging. No one believed me … UNTIL NOW. (Dum dum dum!!!!)
PS. Yelling at each other in front of our children is just as abusive.
We also yell at children because we still can. Most of the avenues that used to be considered a parent’s right are now punishable by jail time. Not so with our dirty little secret. It and emotional abuse remain the adult way to off-load onto the most vulnerable everything from frustration to fury. I call that abuse.
The next time you find yourself saying, “Well, every parent yells,” try substituting: “Every parent commits verbal abuse.” True, but: desirable? The next time you find yourself rationalizing, “My parents yelled at me, and I turned out okay,” try: “My parents verbally abused me.”
After I yell at my children, I apologize. To them. “I am sorry I yelled at you.” I resist the urge to add, “because you (list their offenses).”
It doesn’t matter how the child responds, or even if they respond. what matters is that I apologized. This action frees my child of the overwhelm I offloaded, returning the responsibility to where it belongs: the adult in the situation.
Bless his cotton socks, Sherman Alexie rocked The Nation last Tuesday. As staunch as ever in his ideals, Alexie took on the digitalization of books in a manner which out-colberted Colbert. He ran that interview with grace and humor, going so far as to get the last word.
Alexie, whose recent is War Dances and much acclaimed, says that while he will adapt his art somewhat to get when he can out of technology, we will not allow his books into digital format.
I don’t know that I will adopt Alexie’s stance , mostly because I haven’t published any books.
No posts in a long time, sports fans. Engrossed in a World Series-quality attack of peri-menopause. Appear to be at the bottom of the ninth; hooray! (More blogs later.) First pitch of the new season (blogging; not menopause) thrown by The New York Times‘ article: For Some Parents, Shouting Is the New Spanking.
SCENE: Interior of Town Hall. High, white walls with arching, stained glass roof. Very cool. In the front pews, the writers and techies mingle for dress rehearsal.
Me: Jenny, what are you wearing tonight?
Jenny. Very straight. Nice black pants and a white blouse. Matching black jacket. Although I did bring a gold-painted velvet coat that I bought in Venice.
Me: Wear the coat. Then I can wear my apricot-velvet pirate captain coat.
Jenny: I’d be the most overdressed woman in Washington State.
Me: I’ll be wearing an apricot-velvet pirate captain coat. (Turns to Vikram Chandra.) How ’bout you, Vikram? Jacket and tie?
Vikram: I don’t own a tie. I’m ethnic. People don’t expect a tie.
“It’s never too late to have a well-adjusted adolescence.” Jenny Boylan.
When in the course of Vehry Intahrchesting events, we pause to consider the fiction/creative nonfiction opportunities offered by Steven W. Thrasher’s Op-Ed contribution to today’s New York Times.
Read Iowa’s Family Values and come back for the prompt.
THE PROMPT:
“Iowa Family values” is an Op-ed of a personal nature. Search for places in his piece where he could open into a creative nonfiction essay. Work on a version that would result his last sentence, already touching, resonating soundly with that sense of “something beyond ourselves.”
OR
Make the piece fiction. A great deal of his family history is available on-line. Or: start makin’ stuff up.
E-mail me anything you wish me to read, or post it as a comment.
In other news: Rock on, Vermont!