John Vandervelde: Program Director
Every so often I like to pass on helpful or encouraging resources to our campers, students, and camper parents. The resource I am going to share with you today is geared specifically toward parents. I was recently forwarded this excerpt from a book by Tim Sanford called "Losing Control and Liking It." I have not read the book, so I can't recommend it nor say it stinks, but I did find the article helpful. I hope it encourages you today.
The Real Job of Dads
A dad's primary, underlying job isn't control.
by Tim Sanford
A dad's primary, underlying job isn't
control. It's to validate every one
of his children.
To validate means to let your child
know over and over and over, through words and actions, that the following are
true:
- "Hey,
you exist and you matter to me."
- "You're
good enough."
- "You're
an okay kid."
Psychotherapists sometimes talk about
the looking-glass-self principle. It's the idea that children get their
earliest, most lasting impressions of who they are from what's reflected back
to them by their parents. These impressions become those "records" in
the jukebox of your child's brain.
Let's say four-year-old Johnny walks
into the room where his dad is reading the newspaper, and Dad doesn't confirm
Johnny's presence. Dad doesn't say, "Good to see you, son!" He doesn't
even say, "Don't bother me. Can't you see I'm trying to read?" Johnny
may begin to doubt his own existence.
It's like the old, philosophical
question: If a tree falls in the forest and there's nobody around to hear it,
did it make a noise?
In Johnny's case, the answer is no. His
existence hasn't been validated by any response. He interprets that to mean, I'm not an okay person. This may be a
totally wrong interpretation; his dad may not believe this for a second about
his son, but this is how Johnny — and most children — will interpret this
scenario. That's the way children's brains operate.
That's often why children do bad
things, as in these cases:
- Sixteen-year-old
Jenny barely saw her dad, thanks to his 12-hour days and golfing habit. He
did give her a new computer, though, and thought that would be enough to
show her he loved her. She used it to post suggestive photos of herself on
MySpace. When her mom found out and tipped off Dad, he went ballistic and
banned Jenny from using the computer for the rest of the year.
- Fifteen-year-old
Ace saw his math grade going down the tubes, so he figured out a way to
cheat on the final. He was desperate for a good grade because his dad only
seemed proud of him when he did well in school. His cheating technique
wasn't very practiced, though; he was caught and flunked the test and the
course. As a result, Dad ruled that Ace would have to wait a whole year to
take the driving lessons needed to get a license.
- Thirteen-year-old
Bob remembered the fun he used to have playing chess with his dad. These
days, though, Dad traveled all the time and buried himself in televised
sports when he was home. Without asking, Bob borrowed his father's
expensive chess set and took it to school for chess club. Somewhere along the
way, he lost a few pieces. When he confessed, Dad yelled at him for being
a "careless idiot." After that, Bob didn't think there was much
chance the two would ever play chess again.
In all these cases, a failure to do his
job led a father to "clamp down" and substitute control for
validation. That's a substitution that doesn't work.
Note, too, that by misbehaving these
kids got some response — even if it
was negative. By acting out, teenagers can affirm they exist and that their
existence has impact on the world around them. Their lives have made
"ripples in the water," so to speak. They get something from their parents, even if it's punishment.
To avoid that kind of acting out,
remember: A teenager needs as much of
your time and attention as a toddler does. In fact, a dad's validation is
so critical to a child's emotional health that he or she will go to any length
— and I do mean any — to get it, whether it's real or artificial.
What Validation Isn't
What do you think of the following
example? Does it fall under the definition of validation or not?
Jason wanted to play basketball, but he
was no star athlete. In fact, he never shot baskets at home and barely dragged
himself to practice for the YMCA team, frequently skipping at the slightest
excuse. At home he whined to his dad about how hard the coach made the players
work, demanding extra running drills.
When games started and Jason spent most
of his time on the bench, he got frustrated and decided to quit. His dad felt
sorry for the boy and told him it was all right to drop off the team. "Some people just don't recognize
natural talent," Dad assured Jason.
Is that validation? And the answer is . . . no.
Validation doesn't mean lying. It
doesn't mean telling me, "Great game, son!" when I really played
poorly.
Many parents have so bought into the
self-esteem movement that no matter who wins or loses the baseball tournament,
everybody deserves a trophy. In a feeble attempt to "validate" every
player (and assuming the only way to do that is with a shiny cup), we end up
extracting the genuine power and intention of true validation.
Just as validation has nothing to do
with control, it has no relation to being a "softie" as a parent. You
can be firm and strong and still validate your child. It means acknowledging your
son or daughter, certifying his or her existence,
affirming the person apart from the not-so-good performance.
Some fathers go to the opposite
extreme, withholding validation when kids don't "measure up." Our
culture is so conditional in its validation — affirming only those who've won
fame or fortune, or been born (or surgically assisted) with "good"
looks — that the same approach often creeps into our parenting. It's easy for a
man to validate a good performance; it takes a lot more time and energy to see
and value the human being in the absence of any performance and put it into
words.
In a way, these forms of "invalid
validation" are another attempt to control the way our kids turn out. We
want them to grow up full of confidence, so we give even mediocre performances
rave reviews. Or we want them to achieve, so we skip the praise so they'll try
harder to earn it.
A dad's biggest job is to relinquish
that kind of control and affirm that the existence of each of his children,
with or without any great (or poor) performance, is acceptable. If you're a
father, recognize that each of your children is worthy of being alive. You may know that, but each of your
children needs to hear it from you.
Value that child as a person, even when
disciplining an action or attitude. Make sure your child knows he or she is
good enoug
h for you.
Otherwise, when that tree falls in the
forest, the silence will be deafening.
The best time to begin validating is
the day you bring your baby home from the hospital. Parenting a teenager begins
when he or she is born.
When he or she is born. Really.
But it's never too late to start. Do it
often enough to cut a record in your teen's jukebox that says, "I'm okay.
I'm good enough." If you can do that, trying to compensate with control won't
be such a temptation.
Taken from Losing Control & Liking It, a Focus on the Family book
published by Tyndale House Publishers, Inc. Copyright © 2009, Focus on the
Family. All rights reserved. International copyright secured.
Thursday, February 18, 2010 at 5:06AM 
