My thoughts on discipline.

As my sweet baby has become fully mobile, I've suddenly realized that I have reached yet another crossroads in parenting choices: discipline.

The way it falls in my eyes, there are two categories: Do what my parents did, which is what I am familiar with--or do something else.

As a child, I remember quite a few things about being disciplined. My mother will be glad to tell you that I was a "bad" child. I didn't listen. I was stubborn. I refused to comply. I threw huge fits. I ran away. I lied.

And, she'll tell you, I completely deserved every spankin' I received. Then, she'll go on to tell you, that I was always very well behaved outside of our home. She is still confused to this day as to why teachers would send home my report card in elementary school with a note at the bottom saying how quiet and well-behaved I was. She can't figure out why I was a "holy terror" at home, yet an angel at school.

I have many memories of being frustrated when I was little. I remember how I would try so hard to explain something to my parents, but they wouldn't listen. It was like they couldn't seem to hear me, as if I was speaking a totally different language.

I would calmly explain that I didn't like lima beans, but there they were on my plate. They would remain on my plate, and my rear would remain in my chair until I consumed them. When I tried to explain again that I simply didn't like the way the felt on the roof of my mouth, I was yelled at because I was talking back. I was yelled at periodically, and goaded and scolded as I sat there. I couldn't eat the lima beans. I didn't like them. So, since I wouldn't eat them, we would spend the evening with me crying at the table and my parents angry because I had ruined yet another supper by not doing what I was told.

Another similar incident that I am still somewhat upset about to this day happened when I was four years old. We had a card table set up in the living room, and my mother agreed to let me and a neighbor girl she'd invited over for me to play with use it as a tent. We had an old quilt draped over it, and it made an amazing secret world right there in my own mundane living room. There was only one rule about playing with that table: No one was allowed to climb on top of it, even if it would make an excellent upstairs to our pretend room.

Things were going well, when the inevitable happened. My playmate climbed on top of the table. I pleaded with her to get off, I remember it clearly to this day. I was terrified that my mom would catch her on the table and she would be spanked. No matter how much I begged, she would not get off of the table. In an act of complete desperation, I climbed up to drag her down myself. It was for her own good, I didn't want her to be punished. Naturally, my mom walked in the room and found us on top of the table. She sent the other girl home, and I was punished. No matter how many times I tried to explain to her why I was on the table, she wouldn't listen. I begged her not to spank me, but she told me to quite whining because I had clearly broken a rule. Then she spanked me, and as I curled up on the couch and cried--not because I was spanked, but because I was so frustrated and upset at the injustice--she told me that she was going to tell my dad what I'd done and that I would have an even worse punishment coming to me because I couldn't stop whining.

According to my parents, spanking and time-outs clearly were a superior form of discipline. My compliance at school reflected their management of me at home. They took a firm hand, I got away with nothing. My father read James Dobson books, in which he was reminded "spare the rod, spoil the child". I was often reminded that spanking hurt them more than it hurt me, and that children should be seen not heard. "That means quit your whining."

During my childhood I was miserably unhappy at home. I lived in fear of the next punishment--I could never seem to figure out when it would occur. One moment I'd be happy and playing with my parents, then the next I would have done something wrong that required punishment. I was perpetually confused by this. It seemed like my parents would be loving and protecting at one moment, then in an instant they could turn into people who caused me pain, suffering, and unhappiness. Therefore, I never fully trusted them--I never knew when they would switch to the bad side.

A little more than a month ago, my baby suddenly started walking. She still can't crawl, but she can walk at top speed. The first thing she did with her newly discovered walking skills was to march straight over to the bookshelf and throw every book on the floor. As I ran over to stop her, I suddenly realized I didn't know what to do. How should I react?

I thought back to the only parenting example I knew of--my own parents. What would they do? Tell her no loudly, possibly slap her hands? The thought of yelling at my innocent baby or even worse, hitting her and causing her pain, was out of the question. What options did that leave?

After a lot of reading and quite a bit of soul-searching, I came to the conclusion that it was time to figure out some goals. I needed to have in mind what kind of person I wanted my child, and future children, to become. Did I want them to grow up to be adults who only did things based on the fear or pleasure of what response would occur--a punishment or a reward depending their action; or did I want them to become adults who chose their actions based on genuine reasoning--how their choices would effect themselves, others, and the world around them?

The more I let it sit and stew in my mind, the more I come to the conclusion that I don't believe in punishments.

That is such a huge thing to say. It's a relief to say it.

I do not believe in punishments.

As I type that, even I am kind of startled. How can you raise a child without punishing them? Those little nagging voices start babbling in the back of my head. Discipline is meant to teach children how to behave, right? If we don't force them to behave and motivate them through punishments, then we will end up with uncontrollable monsters.

Right?

Or...not so right.

We have been conditioned by our culture to believe that children must be taught to behave. They must be forced into becoming respectable, compliant little human beings, because if we don't teach them then who will? How will they ever understand?

The key question here, is why? Why would causing a child displeasure, pain, and fear teach them how to become a good person? When you look at it from that angle, the answer is obvious. It won't. Trying to teach a children to become good people by punishing them for doing bad things makes absolutely no sense what so ever. It's nothing but an illusion.

After this sudden revelation, my next thought was what exactly is a punishment?

Spanking is one very obvious form of punishment that many people use, and many more people object to. But often those same people who talk about the injustice of spanking still use other forms of discipline which, theoretically, aren't really that much different.

All forms of punishment, whether it is spanking, time-out, or something different, fall under the word coercion. In order to make children behave, we coerce them. The definition of coercion, according to www.dictionary.com, is using force to cause something to occur, and it's inescapable consequence.

In one of his books, How Children Fail, John Holt writes the following:

“The idea of painless, nonthreatening coercion is an illusion. Fear is the inseparable companion of coercion. If you think it your duty to make children do what you want, whether they will or not, then it follows inexorably that you must make them afraid of what will happen to them if they don’t do what you want. You can do this in the old-fashioned way, openly and avowedly, with the threat of harsh words, infringement of liberty, or physical punishment. Or you can do it in the modern way, subtly, smoothly, quietly, by withholding the acceptance and approval which you and others have trained the children to depend on; or by making them feel that some retribution awaits them in the future, too vague to imagine but too implacable to escape.”

It's taken quite a bit of thought to figure out what Holt means by "the modern way" of punishment. In what ways do modern parents withhold acceptance and approval? How have we trained our children to depend on it?

I was in the shower last week when I finally understood it.

It was the use of the word train that got me started thinking of dogs. What do we do when we train dogs? We reward them for doing what we are trying to teach them. We reward them with our positive response, our praise, and with treats.

Could it be possible that rewards are actually bad for children?

That is when I realized something. We do the exact same thing with children today. We reward them for doing what we want them to do. This, in turn, teaches them to be dependent on rewards as sign of our love, because what happens when they do not do what we want them to do? We don't reward them--instead, we show them our displeasure by sending them to time-out, spanking, yelling, or ignoring them until we feel they've gotten the message.

What message is it, exactly, that we think we are sending? To an adult, time-out is a chance for a child to sit back, cool down from the heat of the moment, and think over what they've done. But what is it to the child? They get the message that you are not happy with them, that their actions have caused you to be so unhappy with you that you no longer can stand to have them around you and you must send them away. Or that you are so upset with them that the adult that they once trusted fully for love, guidance, and affection will suddenly change their signal and cause them physical and emotional pain.

That, you might say, is an extreme. Of course a parent still loves their child even when they are disobedient. But does that really matter? The parent knows that they still love their child, but what really is important is what the child feels. If the child gets the message that they are not loved when they disobey, then they might as well not be loved. They learn that your love is conditional--the conditions are that they obey. When they obey, they are rewarded with your love. When they disobey, from their perspective, your love is absent.

That mixed message can't be good for a child, can it?

I would never, not for one moment, want my baby to doubt that I love her. I will always love her, no matter what she does, and I want her to always know that.

For her to feel loved unconditionally, I have to find a way to guide her into becoming a sensitive, respectful, and caring human being that does not include punishments or rewards.

What does that leave me with? Certainly I have to do something to teach my children how to behave.

I came across this quote by Alfie Kohn:
"The dominant problem with parenting in our society isn't permissiveness, but the fear of permissiveness"

It's true. We are terrified of spoiling children. How many times have I been told that carrying my baby is going to "spoil" her? That word is thrown around so often, used as a warning or a reminder what just might happen if you fail to parent your child as society dictates. No one wants to be the parent of the spoiled child.

But, not punishing children for their mistakes does not mean that you have to "spoil" them or allow them to run wild. It is possible to set limitations and goals for a child without rewarding them or punishing them. Instead of trying to punish a child for doing something wrong, or attempting to use punishment to stop an undesirable behavior, why can't parents use the trusting and loving relationship they've built with their children to influence them and teach them how to become the type of people we want them to be?

Alfie Kohn also says, "The goal is empowerment rather than conformity, and the methods are respectful rather than coercive."

In other words, instead of demanding blind obedience using our love as a means of punishment or reward, why not teach children how to become free-thinking, respectful, caring individuals by leading through our own example and treating them with the complete love and respect they deserve?