On the Spot: Forcing responses can backfire

Have you ever been asked to tell a joke or sing a song on the spot when you didn’t feel prepared? Did a surge of awkwardness overtake you, along with a desperate desire to melt into the floor? Did you get mad and protest? Worse yet, did you painfully comply, hot-faced and mumbly, feeling anything but genuinely willing?

“Don’t make your kid say stuff!” This is what a young woman said to a mother recently who had good-naturedly instructed her reluctant three-year-old daughter to “Say, Goodbye!” The young woman’s strong response piqued the mother’s curiosity. She arrived to our parent-child program that morning saying, “I know we’re supposed to guide our child, but that comment confused me. What do you make of it?”

I think the young woman was onto something. It sounds like she had a visceral reaction to a well-meant prompt that stirred up an uneasy memory from her own childhood. Somebody, sometime, forced her to ‘say stuff.’ Insisting upon certain responses from young children can elicit a kind of performance anxiety that has the opposite effect of what’s intended. An unnecessary power struggle may follow. Words meant to convey kindness and connection become fraught with tension.

Nature intends that young children take their cues from parents. Yes, we absolutely are meant to guide them—only not in the form of directing them to parrot certain words on command. Very young children are intimately intertwined with their parents and trusted caregivers. This means that our willingness to lovingly model for them is far more powerful than many adults recognize. If you convey warm parting words, without placing pressure and focus on your child, he may chime in right along after you. Or he may simply absorb the words, inflections and unspoken subtleties we use to convey goodwill to friends and neighbors. These will bubble up in time.

But as in the ‘goodbye’ example above, the direct spotlight can work against this natural phenomenon. A three-year-old, in particular, is only beginning to sense herself as a separate entity. This is the age at which many children begin to refer to themselves as ‘I’ versus by their own name or as ‘me’—as in “Me do it!” or “Anna do it!” This first sensing of the self as ‘I’ can bring with it the dawning that “I and my parents are not entirely one.” There can emerge a new kind of shock at being looked at and seen as a separate person. But if instead a parent or caregiver gets down on the child’s level, puts an arm around a shoulder and, side by side, greets someone with sincere warmth, the friend is duly acknowledged and the child is gently supported in learning the nuances of a kind-hearted exchange.

Words I most often hear adults urge children to say are ‘please,’ ‘thank you,’ ‘hello,’ ‘goodbye’ and ‘I’m sorry.’ These are useful and important words that we certainly want our children to be able to use when situations call for them. And if you use these words and their accompanying gestures meaningfully, the children will, too. Trust this process. As Michaela Gloeckler, MD, says in her article, “Non-Verbal Learning: A necessity in the developmental stages,” “The more convinced an adult is about what he does, the more attractive it is for the imitative situation of the child.” For us that means to fully inhabit what we want to model without demanding to be copied. It also means to try be more aware of all that we are modeling from day to day—even when we think the child isn’t paying attention or when we didn’t intend for them to imitate certain language, attitudes or behavior. (I know, Yikes! Try your best; we are human.)

In our parent-child program for two’s and three’s, there’s a midway point in the playtime we call ‘snickety snack’—a small snack meant to tide the children over until later. The children love the bit of ritual surrounding this moment—they pour their own water from a child-sized pitcher into pleasingly tiny cups and make “baskets” with their hands to receive a bite of bread or fruit. Many children, wanting another piece, will say in a guttural tone, “More!” which can elicit embarrassment in adults and a desire to instruct the children on how to ask politely. I have found that simply saying cheerfully, “More bread, please” as I put a piece into a child’s cupped hand feels more joyful and less coercive for all concerned. It’s not a keep-away game or an if-then negotiation—in other words, I don’t hold back the piece until or unless they say the phrase the way I modeled it. I’m simply saying out loud words associated with giving and receiving. Most children effortlessly chime in with a little echo of their own, thoroughly absorbed in our exchange. Some hold back—perhaps because in other situations they’ve been coerced or perhaps because they’re in observation mode. In time the children spontaneously show their appreciation on their own.

Similarly, a warm ‘hello’ or ‘goodbye’ on your part will be observed and fully felt by your child, but a forced greeting or parting can lead to resistance. When the children are so very little you can speak for them, “Hello! We’re glad to see you,” or “Goodbye; we’ll see you next time!” This way, the child is naturally included in the encounter without feeling forced to dutifully rattle off a response. It’s beneficial to have your child next to you when you say these words—not trailing well behind you upon arriving or still digging in the sandbox when you’re saying goodbye. Being in the habit of coming and going together means that your child will be there to witness your respectful and loving exchanges while feeling the safety of your connection.

“I’m sorry,” is in its own category—and warrants its own deeper exploration. But for now suffice it to say that we want to avoid teaching children to make begrudging, perfunctory and insincere apologies by forcing them to merely chirp the expected words. For the youngest children, you as the adult can in the moment say on behalf of your child, “I’m so sorry,” to another child who was hurt by yours, intentionally or not. You can quietly point out that the child is crying and perhaps offer to get a tissue together. Feel your apology, mean it and convey it on behalf of both of you. Sincerely modeling these sentiments and gestures has great benefit. As Gloekler says,

Without any explanations or pedagogical instruction being given, children absorb all the events happening around them, practicing out of their own inner drive until they have attained the corresponding skills. Children do not learn to speak through explanation, nor do they learn to walk through instructions on how to move. They learn these complicated and far reaching human capacities solely through their own inner drive, modeled on the pattern provided by adults. This concentrated, imitative learning of the child [is] an activity kindled by the role model and tirelessly practiced.

If you have to say “I’m sorry” on behalf of your child and walk lovingly hand-in-hand to the tissue box, know that you are modeling sincere empathy, remorse and a desire to make reparation. When we remember how powerful our heartfelt and fully present example is for young children, we can feel less compelled to extract particular words of apology that may sound ‘nice’ but mean little to the child—or even come to be viewed with a powerful disdain. And with your own warm ‘pleases’ and ‘thank-you’s,’ ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes,’ you are showing how to convey, through word and gesture, appreciation and care toward family, friends and our fellow human beings without putting your young child on the spot.