"No" at the mall

Circumstances almost beyond my control had me in two places that, on normal days, would be no problem. But this wasn't a normal day...it was Christmas Eve. And the places were a mall and a grocery store. Perfect places and time to observe human nature, however, and I had plenty to observe. First, the mall.

I never eat at food courts. Over-priced artery clogging fare is not my idea of food. But I was being treated by the person whom I had given a ride to the mall. Fortunately, I was able to find something that wouldn't trigger an intestinal upset.

As I'm eating with the person who had needed a ride to the mall to do some last-minute shopping, a little boy of about 6 had been running around several tables and grabbing food from the trays of those with whom he was sitting (when he sat). He then runs by our table and attempts to grab food from my tray. Knowing what he had been doing, I lifted my tray in time and told him "No, this is my food." Hearing no, he reacted violently by kicking my table and then threw himself to the floor and screamed.

His mother comes over and talks to him soothingly about the "bad person" who told him no, to come back to the table and she'd give him some cookies. She then looks at me and tells me "He's an Aspie." I asked her what that meant. "You should educate yourself! And you should learn that they have rights!" I asked if Aspie's had the right to snatch food off of the tables of total strangers.

Here's a clue for the Mom of Aspie: We all have rights. And we all have responsibilities. And we all have obligations. I didn't say that to Mom of Aspie, though. I asked her a question:

Are you familiar with the story of Helen Keller?

She said yes, she'd read the book as a child and had seen the movie.

So I asked her about Helen's early life before Annie Sullivan arrived. Did she remember what Helen was like?

Mom of Aspie's face drained of color but she didn't say anything. I reminded her that Helen had been described by family and friends as "wild, like an animal." She grabbed food from the plates of those she dined with. She ran around and knocked things to the floor. She'd hit and scratch if she didn't get her way, so she always got her way. And her father began to recognize that this could not go on, and so he looked for someone to help Helen.

Annie Sullivan is often called The Miracle Worker, and is believed by some to have used behavior modification before anyone else. Those who know the story know that Helen went on to do great things for the rest of her life, accomplishing more than many people who were not Deaf, mute, and blind.

If a child who had that many handicaps can overcome them and become world-famous, responsible, and a help to others, why cannot the children of today who are labeled Bipolar, ADD/ADHD, ODD, Aspie, and so on be trained and worked with so that they, too, can accomplish great things? Will drugging them and letting them get away with mistreating other people truly help them? Will it help society?

I would advise that parents get and read a copy of any of the books on Helen Keller's life and apply the methods she used to civilize a Deaf, mute and blind child.

Recent observations and musings

Elton John may sing "Sorry seems to be the hardest word," but, when it comes to parents and their children, it seems that parents have great difficulty uttering "No," while their children have no problems doing so.

Recently, some friends who live in a lovely three-story home had an open house party. Families were invited. Most of the children were well-behaved. One girl, about age 7 or 8, wanted to explore the house. Even though our host and hostess greeted us at the door and showed us into the area where the festivities were taking place on the ground level (bedrooms and a study are on the second floor, the upper level is where the host and hostess do their painting, writing, and so on...it is their business area, and it is not childproof. Their children are grown, so there is no need to put their work away). The girl immediately heads up the stairs. The parents don't say anything, so the host says "Sweetie, the party is down here. Let's see what goodies we can find." The child ignores him and continues on up. The hostess goes up the stairs and turns her gently around and says "This area is private and off limits. There is lots to do and see downstairs, and other children have arrived. Let's go see them!"

Both the host and hostess were tactful, while the Dear Parents stood there acting like they've never said "no" before. The child then screams "I want to see upstairs!" and the mom looks at the host like "What's the big deal?" Neither parent says "No, honey, that area is off limits," or anything of the sort. Dad finally says "I guess they don't want people upstairs, so let's go find some candy."

A boy about 11 years old goes back for thirds on desserts, bypassing people in line who haven't had any yet. Mom says "Rotney, don't you think you should let others have a turn?" Rotney replies "No, there's plenty for them."

A two-year-old screams "Noooooo" when her parents ask if she needs her diaper changed.

Being an observer of human nature, I mentally note how parents and children interact and find such observations very interesting. I'm keeping score on how many time I hear parents say "No," and how many times children say "No." Actually, most children say "No!!!!!" Very emphatic "no," you know where they stand. Parents can't even get out a simple "No." They ask questions "Wouldn't you like to...?," or "Don't you think...?," or "Isn't it time to...?" So far, the kids are winning (only for the short term, many parents don't see 'the big picture'). Dear Parent, NO is simple, so simple a child can say it! Even a two-year old!

Dear Parents, if you have a hard time saying No to your child now, wait until they are teens. And if they never hear No from you, they will not like it when they hear No from teachers, coaches, or the nice policeman. With apologies to Elton John, "No" seems to be the hardest word.