When my own two kids were young, I had a lot to learn about consequences. After numerous instances of childhood clutter, I seized my 10–year–old daughter’s comic books from where she left them strewn on the stairs (again), and threw them out. Almost five decades later I’m still hearing about it. She’s a comic book collector, and a number of them would have been valuable today. What can I say? My thinking at the time was that it was a classic example of cause and effect. It was, of course, no such thing. It was a consequence, to be sure, but it was not well thought out. It was, instead, spontaneous, arbitrary and heartless. Today I would probably have just put them away for a while.
This could have been an column on discipline. But discipline is a pretty narrow,and not always helpful, topic compared to the cause and effect implied by the word consequence. Something happens and, as a result, something else happens which relates to it. This, when it happens as it should, is the “carrot” of positive feedback. If you behave as you should, something positive happens. If you screw up, something negative takes place.
On the other hand, there is punishment, which too often has absolutely nothing to do with the action that precipitated it. Unfortunately, it is often equated with discipline, which makes it sound honorable. In fact, the terms are vastly different. Discipline and consequences suggest a learning situation which includes an explanation of the inappropriate behavior and redirection to something more acceptable. Punishment all too often uses fear and shame to force the child into compliance.
I am remembering a time some 30 years ago when I was teaching fourth grade. A rugged mountain man brought his boy, Charlie, into my classroom on the first day of school. “Charlie’s not real smart,” he said, “and he don’t mind very good, and I told him, and now I’m tellin’ you, I’m his daddy at home but you’re his daddy at school. You whoop him at school and when he gets home, I’ll whoop him too.”
Poor Charlie. Talk about double jeopardy.
What is ironic is that although it soon became obvious that Charlie had not done well in the genetic lottery, he was one of the sweetest, most cooperative children in the class. This anecdote fails, perhaps, to make a point against punishment, but it is important to note that it could have gone the other way. Whoopping may have worked in some perverse way at home, but I didn’t whoop Charlie at school and things went wonderfully well.
“That’s it! I’ve had it! Go to your room! Take a time out!” The child who hasn’t heard of a time out probably came to you from another galaxy; because in our solar system, it is the ubiquitous form of discipline, and the most misused — often given in the wrong way and for the wrong reasons. Since it is viral in scope, it’s not hard to imagine a child in a remote African village sitting staring at the wall of his family hut because he violated some tribal law, or misbehaved during the fire dance.
A time out can be useful when looked upon properly in terms of outcome. It is not only a consequence, but also a valuable tool. It just needs to be changed from a negative to a positive. First, ask yourself what it is you hope to accomplish. Is this to be a form of punishment? Do you want him to sit and reflect upon the error of his ways? Or do you just want him out of your hair for 10 minutes because you are about to lose control? Or your mind?
So, you’ve had an argument. By your words, your decibel level and body language, shrieking that you’ve “had it” lets him know — momentarily, at least — that he has gained some control over you. That kind of attention just adds fuel to the fire, because right now he probably doesn’t care whether the attention is positive or negative. Maybe he needs to calm down, maybe he doesn’t. But you certainly do. Probably, the conversation needs to continue, but not mid–rant. We don’t do our best thinking when we are frustrated or angry. Before anything constructive can happen — before you can move on — you both need to stabilize the scenario. That’s what a good time out can do.
Try this: “Steven, let’s relax for 10 minutes.” Notice that you have not called it a time out. That term has become pejorative, and it is really bad marketing.
“We have a problem to discuss, and we both need time to think about how to express it to each other. Please sit here and decide what you would like to say and how you would like to say it, and I will go somewhere and do the same thing.” (Here can be the couch or the dining room table, and it must be a comfortable place to sit; but not his bedroom, because that’s where all the good stuff is — action toys, books, XBox — all things to distract him from his mission.) “Then we’ll talk. You can talk first and I’ll listen without interrupting you.” (He needs to get his concerns out so he has room to process yours.) “Then I’ll talk and you show me the same courtesy. Maybe we can come up with a plan.”
Then when he talks, really listen. When you let him talk, when you truly let him know that you want to hear what he is thinking and feeling, you have made him part of the solution. By leaving part of the decision up to the child, you avoid an incredibly counterproductive waste of time.
There is something positive to be said in favor of delaying the consequence. Because each child and each situation are unique, individual circumstances will dictate whether to deal with the problem now, or to leave him to stew for a while in the juices of penance. This has the additional advantage of giving you (and your child) time to formulate a less impassioned response.
Learn to let sleeping dogs lie. If you really want to accentuate the positive, don’t keep bringing up bad behavior from the past; commit those misdeeds to history. Constantly reminding a child of old errors will only reinforce her own negative image. It may serve to remind her of what not to do, but it fails completely to provide examples of what she should do.
The next column will be about natural and logical consequences and a system of praise and rewards.
Robin C. Harris, an 18-year resident of Lake County, is the author of “Journeys out of Darkness, Adventures in Foster Care.” A retired educator, he is a substitute teacher in Lake County schools and has recently completed two works of fiction for children and teens. He is available for tutoring in first through eighth grades. Harris can be contacted at harris.tke@att.net.
