I recently spoke to a friend who had her
first baby six months ago. She told me that she was going to start
her totally breastfed baby on a bottle so that she could get out
more. What I really sensed was that she believed she had to teach
her baby to be more independent, that perhaps his dependency was
her fault. I realized that she shared the misconception common
among new parents that independence is something that can
be taught. Rather, independence is something that unfolds out of
the nature of the child after he or she has had an opportunity to
experience and outgrow dependency.
We have a cultural bias toward dependency, toward any emotion
or behavior that indicates weakness, and this is nowhere more
tragically evident than in the way we push our children beyond
their inner limits and timetables. We establish outside standards
as more important than inner experience when we wean our children
rather than trusting that they will wean themselves; when we
insist that our children sit at the table and finish their meals
rather than trusting that they will eat well if healthful food is
provided on a regular basis; and when we toilet train them at an
early age rather than trusting that they will learn to use the
toilet when they are ready. By assuming that we as parents know
what is best for our children in regard to their inner experience,
and that we must show them how and when to accomplish basic human
developmental tasks, we teach them that outside standards are more
important and more accurate indicators than signals from within
themselves.
Two recent scientific studies reflect this cultural bias
against weakness and dependency in children. One study compared
children who were vaccinated while in their mothers' arms with
children who were vaccinated without their mothers present. Those
who were vaccinated in the absence of their mothers cried less,
and thus the researchers concluded that it would be better for
pediatricians to discourage the presence of mothers during
vaccination because children appeared to handle the shots better
without them. Obviously, the researchers in this study were biased
against emotional expressiveness and believed that such
expressiveness in children under stress was a weakness.
My experience is just the opposite. I have noticed that my four
children are wonderful when we are on trips away from home. They
handle things well, get along with one another, and accept
irregular sleeping and eating experiences – only to come home
and fall apart. Once at home, they fight, cry, and laze around. I
believe it is normal for people of all ages to hold it together
while facing a stressful situation and then to let down and fall
apart, if necessary, once they are in a safe environment. For a
child, this safe environment is home, mother, or father. It was
perfectly normal for those vaccinated children to cry under the
stress of the experience, and the presence of their mothers gave
them the confidence to cry. The conclusion of this study might
have been that it is better to vaccinate children with their
mothers present so that the children can better handle the
experience.
A study conducted by Margaret Burchinal of the University of
North Carolina at Chapel Hill, and reported in the February 1987
issue of Psychology Today, compared young children raised
at home by their mothers with young children who had attended
daycare since infancy. This study concluded that children cared
for away from home "appeared" less insecure than those
cared for at home. While one might argue that assessing what
"appears" to be insecurity is a subjective evaluation
that does not belong in a scientific study, my experience tells me
that insecurity is an appropriate response. Young children are
especially sensitive to new people in their environment, and this
sensitivity changes as their environment changes. Each of my
children, for example, related to strangers differently, and this
difference was directly connected with how many people outside the
home we saw. My fourth child, who has been raised knowing the many
people who work on the magazine, sometimes appears more secure as
a youngster than did my first child, who was raised in a more
isolated, rural environment.
Those who study animal behavior will tell you that baby
animals, known for their curiosity, are even more cautious than
curious. Is caution to be considered insecurity? It is as though
we expect our children to arise fully socialized from the womb,
and do not accept that their experiences with the world, their
individual personalities, and the simple passage of time are what
develop socialization. (This study has been further criticized for
its biases and lack of correlational evidence.)
By rejecting the expressions of "weakness" in
children – behaviors that we also reject in adults – we set
children at war within themselves. For one thing, we establish an
arbitrary standard of behavior that purports to dictate more about
what is best for them than does their own inner experience. And
for another, we pass along the habit of rejecting immediate
responses in favor of intellectual rationale.
I have recently begun to learn acceptance of my children's
"weaker" emotions. When my first child (now 12) was a
baby, I would run to her and whisk her up each time she hurt
herself. My exaggerated response taught her to believe that being
hurt was a terrifying experience that she could not handle. My
fourth child, on the other hand, is very noisy when she gets hurt.
I don't run to her or overreact; I don't try to fix things. But
she screams and carries on, and I have had to train myself to just
let that be. By accepting her rich emotional response, and by
treating her injury without showing excessive indifference, I have
found that her "extreme" emotional reaction is usually
short-lived. Fully experiencing her painful reality, she is free
to leave it and move on to experience other realities in the
moment.
Certainly, some checking of our inner impulses is needed
to live as social beings. It is through this checking that we
learn such socially acceptable behavior as using a toilet, eating
with a spoon, and wearing clothing. But when this checking of the
inner experience by the intellect becomes moralistic rather than
practical, when it becomes too extreme, or when we continually
teach our children to believe that we know what is best for them,
we rob the child of the essential birthright of self-regulation.
The child who grows to adulthood lacking this sense of
self-regulation and distrusting his or her own inner experience
may become an adult victimized by addictions. When I look around
me, I see most of us struggling in one way or another with
compulsive behavior – overeating, overresponsibility, smoking
cigarettes, taking recreational drugs, overworking, drinking
alcohol or caffeine, seeking the guru – trying in some way to
find perfection outside of ourselves or to distract ourselves from
the endless striving for perfection. I believe that these
compulsions and addictions have their origins in the seemingly
well-intended repressions of childhood. A child who is taught to
exercise control using external standards learns to set up an
inner duality between what is immediately experienced and what is
supposed to be, and learns to believe that there is a
perfect way to be. The adult who lives with this duality finds
distractions and diversions that provide
respite from the overzealous striving
for perfection, but the diversions that may have been harmless as
a child can be dangerous as an adult.
Our job as parents is to understand and honor the nature of
dependency in the child. Dependency, insecurity, and weakness are
natural states for the child. They are natural states for all of
us at times, but for children – especially young children –
they are predominant conditions. And they are outgrown, just as we
grow from crawling to walking, from babbling to talking, from
puberty into sexuality. As humans, we move from weakness to
strength. We move from uncertainty into mastery. When we refuse to
acknowledge the stages prior to mastery, we teach our children to
hate and distrust their weakness, and we start them on the journey
of a lifetime to reintegrate their personalities.
I cannot stress enough the importance of trusting our children,
trusting them in their entirety. Accepting their weaknesses as
well as their strengths, their ugly emotions as well as their
beautiful ones, their disasters as well as their triumphs, their
dependency as well as their independence, is to give them the gift
of a whole life. And as whole beings who are not at war within
themselves, they will not be at war with others.
It is the nature of the child to be dependent, and it is the
nature of dependence to be outgrown. Begrudging dependency because
it is not independence is like begrudging winter because it is not
yet spring. Dependency blossoms into independence in its own time.