I really really REALLY want my kid to be free range and for the other adults in his life to yell at him. I think that would really help our relationship. Other people telling him that he can't just go into traffic besides me, yeah, it's not just me making up arbitrary rules!
We tried some version of this with parents in our neighborhood and slowly ran into the American culture wars problem. You don't have to dig deep to find how political scientists have found correlations between parenting style and overall political preferences because values and how the internet amplifies all kinds of things.
So, when I watch the other parents talk to my kid I disapprove of the values they inadvertently pass on that I don't agree with. For example, one dad who is very serious about traditional gender roles once told my son "you are going to be a big man, you can't act like that" when he got frustrated (this dad is also big on spanking and authoritarian parenting for his own kids). And on the flipside, the parents don't understand when I ask the kids to talk to each other about their arguments instead of devolving into name calling. I had a different parent askl me "what do you expect them to do at school? They can't just talk it out on the playground." And I was flabbergasted because their solution was to tell their kids that if someone calls you names, you hit them. I'm not even going to get into the problem of guns being kept in the homes.
Needless to say, we are sunsetting these several relationships and guess what that means? More screentime.
Yeah, what's with random adults feeling like they can and should make those kinds of statements to kids? But yeah, with all this talk about parental burnout and us needing to help each other out more, I have to say, involving more adults in my parenting is giving me more stress, not less. I don't think that sheltering my kid from people of other values is the answer, but these this also tend to come hard and fast at the end of a long work day with a long commute. I'm tired. I'm not as resilient as I aspire my son to be.
As a mom of those unsupervised older free-range children: I WANT other parents to step in, guide, direct - and yes, when necessary yell - at my kids. I trust my kids, but they are growing and learning and will make mistakes. I hope if I’m not there, someone will care enough about them to step in.
But therein lies the rub - which I think you get to so eloquently, Mara! - how and why matter. If you are coming from a place of guidance and care, great! Where I have seen it go awry is when adults are chastising and humiliating other people’s children, with the apparent goal of belittling. This isn’t to say kids might not feel embarrassed, but that should never be the objective.
So by all means - if my kids a swerving into traffic or upsetting your youngster, let them know! I say thanks for helping me raise a good human.
Thank you for sharing this! As you know, you are my IRL mom mentor about how to raise independent, resilient kids. Thanks for all your thoughts about this.
Brava! It's the Village thing, and any sane parent is happy to have others pitch in for some feedback when their kid is doing something rude or unsafe. I really applaud what you did and how you did it. More, please! Thanks, too, for the link to the show. I plan to listen. Thank you for helping to promote and champion size-inclusivity, patient-centered and led health care, and normalizing the very broad spectrum of humans who exist in the world without shaming, judging, or automatically accepting the outdated education at medical schools. Time to get with the now!
I'm childless by choice, but I've worked as a camp counselor, and I generally enjoy interacting with kids at church or community events, and particularly with friends' kids.
It's always just a *little* bit background-uncomfortable, though, precisely because of what you identify here: part of my job as an adult is to look out casually for these little beings while they're in my orbit, and sometimes that means telling them no, questioning their behavior, teaching them how to do something they're struggling with, etc.
Which, in my experience, is something their parents have a wide range of reactions to—and it's a minefield out there, because I never know who's going to react how. I've had more than just one or two parents over the years give me looks I interpreted as surprised and possibly resentful, or ask me point-blank not to "tell their kid what to do." But then some folks fully expect me to sort-of co-parent their kids when I'm around, giving me more authority than I even know how to take.
I don't have a lot of interaction with the same kids these days, which means my familiarity with the kids and their parents in any given situation is low, so I tend to err on the side of not saying anything, positive or negative or in between. And I don't love this!
Kids are people, too, and people who both need and want guidance. When I was a kid, plenty of adults gave me casual instruction, interest and affection, emotional guidance, or brief correction (and the occasional serious talking-to). I LOVED that—even when I didn't like it in the moment—because it showed that they took me seriously, that they cared about my well-being (and other kids', if I was the one being a pain.) And as an adult now, I seriously appreciate everything I learned from the many engaged adults in my life who were not my parents.
I want to provide that support for kids in my life. But it is, as I said, uncomfortable. The more I reflect on this, the more I realize it's not entirely an individual decision. It's part of a very "it takes a village" sort of mentality—which we largely don't have, at least in most of the contexts I frequent today.
I'm also thinking about the comments from folks in this thread about having adults with opposing values correct their kids. That did happen to me as a child. Gender-related corrections are the ones I remember most. For example: it's not feminine to ask so many questions.
(What that particular adult could have said legitimately to me was that if I wanted to engage in actual conversation, I needed to learn how to ask questions more gently—because I tended to fire them hard and fast, especially when I was skeptical, and people might be having a hard time really "hearing" me without getting defensive.)
I had a good relationship with both my parents, and I remember bringing these kinds of experiences to them for guidance.
Until about my middle teens, I always treated the adults in question (including the one referenced above) with outward respect in the moment, but I often questioned the interaction privately or sometimes with my peers. Both my mom and my dad (who have very different approaches) were always open to conversation about it, too. They affirmed my feelings, gave their own opinions, and often shared their own feelings on hearing my story. They only rarely followed up with the adult in question, believing strongly that unless I was being hurt or actively requesting intervention, these kinds of conflicts were mine to learn how to navigate.
I was grateful for this at the time, almost always, again because it showed a sense of respect for my autonomy and abilities.
All this is so interesting, Tara! Thanks for sharing. As my spouse and I think about how to create more of an intentional community for our son, I often think about how my parenting style differs from our neighbors and friends -- we have different values about screen time, about food, about gender.
But I also know (hope!) that we're giving our son a strong enough foundation that an afternoon with a family that differs in their style won't change his core values. That's part of being a human in the world, learning to co-exist and even thrive with people who are different than us.
There are some hard stops for me: guns. Physical violence.
But he's a tough cookie, he can handle some insecure dude at the park making comments about his pink scooter. I'd rather have that than total parenting isolation. I'd rather take on the tensions of being in community with other families than take on the challenges of going it totally alone.
Ooooh... Look forward to listening. I have read a number of critiques of his work, and I'm very interested in alternative perspectives.
As a primary care physician, I take care of a LOT of patients (including teens) with anxiety and depression, and I have lots of questions about the way we conceptualize these disorders within our medical framework, and the quality of Haidt's data and his jumping to conclusions about causality.
So I'm here for some skepticism.
That being said: I notice the way my own smartphone makes me feel. I notice the way it affects my relationships, my engagement in the physical world around me. I notice the way smartphones change my relationships with the teens and young adults in my life. That data is qualitative and experiential, but it's real, and frankly I'm quite concerned about it.
I was thinking about this while reading too, Becky! These guys bring up some really important points about how Haidt both obtains and interprets his data.
I generally appreciate their brand of interested skepticism, although in some episodes I get frustrated with their dismissal of underlying issues the authors they're discussing are (usually badly) trying to seriously address. In this episode, though, I think they address well how there's definitely an issue here, while intelligently questioning Haidt's particular take, which they see as a bit reactionary and fundamentally not helpful.
I really really REALLY want my kid to be free range and for the other adults in his life to yell at him. I think that would really help our relationship. Other people telling him that he can't just go into traffic besides me, yeah, it's not just me making up arbitrary rules!
We tried some version of this with parents in our neighborhood and slowly ran into the American culture wars problem. You don't have to dig deep to find how political scientists have found correlations between parenting style and overall political preferences because values and how the internet amplifies all kinds of things.
So, when I watch the other parents talk to my kid I disapprove of the values they inadvertently pass on that I don't agree with. For example, one dad who is very serious about traditional gender roles once told my son "you are going to be a big man, you can't act like that" when he got frustrated (this dad is also big on spanking and authoritarian parenting for his own kids). And on the flipside, the parents don't understand when I ask the kids to talk to each other about their arguments instead of devolving into name calling. I had a different parent askl me "what do you expect them to do at school? They can't just talk it out on the playground." And I was flabbergasted because their solution was to tell their kids that if someone calls you names, you hit them. I'm not even going to get into the problem of guns being kept in the homes.
Needless to say, we are sunsetting these several relationships and guess what that means? More screentime.
Oh my gosh, so many thoughts to consider there!
Yes, once I had a guy in a park start telling my son he shouldn't be using a pink scooter because that was for girls. Not awesome.
But also part of raising a resilient child is that I hope my son has strong enough values that he can think critically about a statement like that!
Thanks for sharing. This stuff is so hard.
Yeah, what's with random adults feeling like they can and should make those kinds of statements to kids? But yeah, with all this talk about parental burnout and us needing to help each other out more, I have to say, involving more adults in my parenting is giving me more stress, not less. I don't think that sheltering my kid from people of other values is the answer, but these this also tend to come hard and fast at the end of a long work day with a long commute. I'm tired. I'm not as resilient as I aspire my son to be.
Makes sense!.
As a mom of those unsupervised older free-range children: I WANT other parents to step in, guide, direct - and yes, when necessary yell - at my kids. I trust my kids, but they are growing and learning and will make mistakes. I hope if I’m not there, someone will care enough about them to step in.
But therein lies the rub - which I think you get to so eloquently, Mara! - how and why matter. If you are coming from a place of guidance and care, great! Where I have seen it go awry is when adults are chastising and humiliating other people’s children, with the apparent goal of belittling. This isn’t to say kids might not feel embarrassed, but that should never be the objective.
So by all means - if my kids a swerving into traffic or upsetting your youngster, let them know! I say thanks for helping me raise a good human.
Thank you for sharing this! As you know, you are my IRL mom mentor about how to raise independent, resilient kids. Thanks for all your thoughts about this.
Brava! It's the Village thing, and any sane parent is happy to have others pitch in for some feedback when their kid is doing something rude or unsafe. I really applaud what you did and how you did it. More, please! Thanks, too, for the link to the show. I plan to listen. Thank you for helping to promote and champion size-inclusivity, patient-centered and led health care, and normalizing the very broad spectrum of humans who exist in the world without shaming, judging, or automatically accepting the outdated education at medical schools. Time to get with the now!
❤️❤️ thank you so much, Kate!
I'm childless by choice, but I've worked as a camp counselor, and I generally enjoy interacting with kids at church or community events, and particularly with friends' kids.
It's always just a *little* bit background-uncomfortable, though, precisely because of what you identify here: part of my job as an adult is to look out casually for these little beings while they're in my orbit, and sometimes that means telling them no, questioning their behavior, teaching them how to do something they're struggling with, etc.
Which, in my experience, is something their parents have a wide range of reactions to—and it's a minefield out there, because I never know who's going to react how. I've had more than just one or two parents over the years give me looks I interpreted as surprised and possibly resentful, or ask me point-blank not to "tell their kid what to do." But then some folks fully expect me to sort-of co-parent their kids when I'm around, giving me more authority than I even know how to take.
I don't have a lot of interaction with the same kids these days, which means my familiarity with the kids and their parents in any given situation is low, so I tend to err on the side of not saying anything, positive or negative or in between. And I don't love this!
Kids are people, too, and people who both need and want guidance. When I was a kid, plenty of adults gave me casual instruction, interest and affection, emotional guidance, or brief correction (and the occasional serious talking-to). I LOVED that—even when I didn't like it in the moment—because it showed that they took me seriously, that they cared about my well-being (and other kids', if I was the one being a pain.) And as an adult now, I seriously appreciate everything I learned from the many engaged adults in my life who were not my parents.
I want to provide that support for kids in my life. But it is, as I said, uncomfortable. The more I reflect on this, the more I realize it's not entirely an individual decision. It's part of a very "it takes a village" sort of mentality—which we largely don't have, at least in most of the contexts I frequent today.
I'm also thinking about the comments from folks in this thread about having adults with opposing values correct their kids. That did happen to me as a child. Gender-related corrections are the ones I remember most. For example: it's not feminine to ask so many questions.
(What that particular adult could have said legitimately to me was that if I wanted to engage in actual conversation, I needed to learn how to ask questions more gently—because I tended to fire them hard and fast, especially when I was skeptical, and people might be having a hard time really "hearing" me without getting defensive.)
I had a good relationship with both my parents, and I remember bringing these kinds of experiences to them for guidance.
Until about my middle teens, I always treated the adults in question (including the one referenced above) with outward respect in the moment, but I often questioned the interaction privately or sometimes with my peers. Both my mom and my dad (who have very different approaches) were always open to conversation about it, too. They affirmed my feelings, gave their own opinions, and often shared their own feelings on hearing my story. They only rarely followed up with the adult in question, believing strongly that unless I was being hurt or actively requesting intervention, these kinds of conflicts were mine to learn how to navigate.
I was grateful for this at the time, almost always, again because it showed a sense of respect for my autonomy and abilities.
All this is so interesting, Tara! Thanks for sharing. As my spouse and I think about how to create more of an intentional community for our son, I often think about how my parenting style differs from our neighbors and friends -- we have different values about screen time, about food, about gender.
But I also know (hope!) that we're giving our son a strong enough foundation that an afternoon with a family that differs in their style won't change his core values. That's part of being a human in the world, learning to co-exist and even thrive with people who are different than us.
There are some hard stops for me: guns. Physical violence.
But he's a tough cookie, he can handle some insecure dude at the park making comments about his pink scooter. I'd rather have that than total parenting isolation. I'd rather take on the tensions of being in community with other families than take on the challenges of going it totally alone.
I’m curious what you think about this read of Haidt’s work if you ever get a chance to listen (and feel like listening!). https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/if-books-could-kill/id1651876897?i=1000664706439
Ooooh... Look forward to listening. I have read a number of critiques of his work, and I'm very interested in alternative perspectives.
As a primary care physician, I take care of a LOT of patients (including teens) with anxiety and depression, and I have lots of questions about the way we conceptualize these disorders within our medical framework, and the quality of Haidt's data and his jumping to conclusions about causality.
So I'm here for some skepticism.
That being said: I notice the way my own smartphone makes me feel. I notice the way it affects my relationships, my engagement in the physical world around me. I notice the way smartphones change my relationships with the teens and young adults in my life. That data is qualitative and experiential, but it's real, and frankly I'm quite concerned about it.
I was thinking about this while reading too, Becky! These guys bring up some really important points about how Haidt both obtains and interprets his data.
I generally appreciate their brand of interested skepticism, although in some episodes I get frustrated with their dismissal of underlying issues the authors they're discussing are (usually badly) trying to seriously address. In this episode, though, I think they address well how there's definitely an issue here, while intelligently questioning Haidt's particular take, which they see as a bit reactionary and fundamentally not helpful.