When helping kids learn from their mistakes and correcting past behavior, it’s important for parents and other role models to separate what they DID, and who they ARE.
Look at the exchange in the images above. The kid apologizes for “being bad,” and the adult points out that it isn’t a question of “being.” It’s about specific behavior.
“Definitely was acting brand new. But you ain’t got a bad bone in your body.”
For a personal example, I’ve been working with one of my kids about bullying other kids. And when she behaves that way, I will tell her, “What you’re doing is bullying,” or “Stop bullying them.”
What I WON’T say is “You’re being a bully.”
Because kids listen (even when we feel like they aren’t) and they are constantly taking in information that they use to define themselves. And the worst thing I could do in this situation is say, “You’re being a bully,” and they believe me.
It happens so often, it’s tragic. We tell kids, “You’re a bully,” “You’re dumb,” “You’re being obnoxious,” and they internalize that. And as soon as a kid accepts “I am a bully” as part of their identity, they will act accordingly.
On the flip side, I used to think it was OK to label kids with “being” statements as long as they were positive, but I’ve learned even that has hidden dangers.
For example, imagine one of my kids finishes a puzzle really quickly, and I respond by saying, “You’re so smart!” Seems great, right?
But what happens when they move on to a harder puzzle and they don’t finish as quickly? So they start thinking things like, “Dad said I’m smart because I can do puzzles fast. But I didn’t do this one fast so I guess I’m not smart after all.” Or, “Dad says I’m smart because I can do puzzles fast, but I didn’t do this one fast so it must be a stupid puzzle that’s made wrong.”
I guess my point is, use “you are” statements sparingly and carefully with kids. Tell them things like, “You are important,” “You are valuable,” “You are loved.” But when it comes to behavior, make it clear that what they do does not define who they are. Let them define themselves.
Filled to the brim with love for you,
I’ll die a million times to sleep under your stars.
To stand on a city on a city
To touch the stone that was carried by my ancestors
To sweat the water and taste each color and bake in your bread.
I love your smoke and feathers.
I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs!
Why are you all just walking around on top of two cities? Why don’t you dig it back up? And say to hell with it
To hell with your church,
Build it again.
An eighth layer bigger than before
Bring back Nahuatl
Bring back Tenochtitlán
But you can’t go back to the past, you can only learn from it.
Borrowed bricks, broken bones, stories etched in stone
Take your healing hands off my broken heart and let me live broken and beautiful the way you left me
Children were not informed about what conditions they apparently had.
“I don’t remember if I got anything in writing about their decision but
I don’t think I had an opportunity to challenge it … I took nine
pills in the morning and seven in the evening. I don’t know what
medications I was taking; no one ever told me that. I don’t know what my
diagnosis or illness is.”
Physical force was used to administer drugs.
“I also saw staff throw another youth to the ground, pry his mouth open
and force him to take the medicine … They told me that if I did not
take the medicine I could not leave, that the only way I could get out
of Shiloh was if I took the pills.”
Staff members initiated tranquilizations.
“When [a staff member at Shiloh] would call the medical staff, they
would come and give me a shot to tranquilize me. It happened many times.
They would give me the shot and then I would start to feel sleepy and
heavy, and like I didn’t have any strength. I would sleep for three or
four hours and then wake up and slowly start to feel my strength return.
When the staff did that, they left me in the classroom near the wall to
sleep.”
Children were verbally abused by staff to provoke a response.
“Some of the staff at Shiloh would provoke the children there and make
us angry intentionally. They made us act violently so then we had to be
given shots. The staff would call us names like ‘sons of a whore.’”
Some were unable to walk normally.
“They are requiring [my daughter] to take very powerful medications for
anxiety. I have noted that [she] is becoming more nervous, fearful, and
she trembles. [She] tells me that she has fallen several times …
because the medications were too powerful and she couldn’t walk.”
Some children experienced unhealthy weight gain, including one who said they put on nearly 100 pounds.
“After taking the medication, I was more tired, I felt sad and my eyes
got teary … I began to gain a lot of weight … In approximately 60
days, I gained 45 pounds.”
Some were handcuffed for days on end.
“At Shenandoah, my room had a mattress, a sink, and a toilet … I was
forced to wear handcuffs on my wrists and shackles on my feet for
approximately 10 days in a row.”
Children were allowed outside for only one hour a day.
“I am suffering a lot being in the Yolo Juvenile Detention Center. It
is a jail and I sleep in a locked, small jail cell. I can’t leave here
and have no freedom at all. We only get one hour of time outside each
day. I have to live in a small cell with concrete walls.”
Clothes were taken away. “Whenever I was put in restriction, they took away my mattress and blanket. They took my clothes away about 8 times.”
And these are just the children old enough to tell us.
