Tim Lineaweaver believes a child should grow up believing their home is a safe place to be. It was something he himself didn’t have.
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When I was around eight years old I broke one of my parents wedding dishes. All these years later I recall the simple elegance of the design: two fanned-out gold leaves against a china-white background. I knew they would be upset so I left the cracked plate on top of the other dishes and vainly hoped the problem would just go away. At the same time I’d been hearing a lot about lying: “It’s a sin to lie, and God sees everything we do.” Not to mention George Washington and the cherry tree.
Inevitably, my father came across the plate and called me upstairs. I was afraid of him but I didn’t want to be a sinner and God could see I broke the plate so when he asked me if I did it, I took a deep breath and said yes, I had. No sooner had the words left my mouth, my father reared back and swung a full-meaty backhand slap across my face that turned my head around and left the salty taste of blood in my mouth.
As I sulked in my room, I decided I would lie, cheat, and do anything else I had to do to protect myself; God, sinning and parents be damned. It wasn’t the last time my father was physical with me but the bastard lost his moral authority that day as far as I was concerned and he wasn’t getting it back.
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The news has been full of violence lately: Men shooting their families, killing themselves, beating their wives and “switching” their children. We see the disturbing images of a woman’s lifeless body in the elevator, a four-year old boy’s hot red welts up and down his legs. I don’t know for certain but would bet the seeds for this recent violence were sown in the home. The one place we should be safe.
I’ve raised three children, certainly not perfectly but my wife and I decided early on that we wouldn’t use physical punishment. From the broken pieces of my birth family we cobbled together a stronger family mosaic. My kids were going to be safe in our home. We wanted to give them a healthy sense of themselves and resiliency against the life-obstacles all people face. I know first hand the cost of self-loathing, deep alienation and the constant bilious feeling of anger. I trace many of these feelings within myself to my father’s violence and they led me to within one inch of self-destruction
I’ve heard the counter arguments: spare the rod, spoil the child” or “Hey it was good enough for me so it’s good enough for my kids.” Yet, none of my children are “spoiled.” They have achieved well and are disciplined and what I love about them is their respect for others.
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Here is what we did instead of hitting:
We created expectations for the kids. Respect others, do your best in school so you can create opportunities for yourself, respect yourself and keep yourself safe. Keep your hands to yourself unless someone is physically threatening you. In that case defend yourself.
We modeled the kind of behavior we expected. Like any household there was discord but we always worked to resolve it. This involved finding compromise solutions to our problems and forgiving one another.
When expectations weren’t met, there were consequences. When the kids were young this involved a simple time out with a brief explanation, when they were older grounding. Consequences are really nothing more than teaching moments. Saying “because I said so” teaches nothing, hitting your kids teaches violence, sows anger and fear and dissolves self-worth.
I am not a shrinking violet and my sons have been raised to be able to protect themselves. I don’t believe all forms of physical discipline constitute abuse, but as a victim of physical abuse, I wonder what lesson are we teaching when we hit our kids and what do they learn? Are we teaching that authority is to be feared, not respected and that violence is an acceptable means to some nebulous end? And, we see time and again that violence begets more violence.
When my father lost his temper with me, he would literally kick my ass again and again until I made it to the stairs leading to my cellar bedroom. He wouldn’t bother chasing me down the stairs. Every kick, slap and punch took another slice of self-worth from my soul until I felt worthless, angry and stuffed with self-loathing. I was an addict and an alcoholic by the time I was 20 and am lucky to be alive today.
The most important aspect of our parenting is our love for our children. If they respect us, trust us and believe in our love for them, they will follow our lead. Violence destroys trust and diminishes our moral authority as parents. It’s time we take a more critical look at violence in the home. Our future depends on it.
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Photo: wwworks / flickr
Mark: I feel strongly about the issue as you might imagine. Thanks for reading the piece!
Thanks Tim. More good content on why hitting kids is a bad idea. Thanks for breaking the cyle of violence in your family.
Thanks Daniel: I’ve tried to find compassion for my Dad;
sometimes I can and sometimes I can’t. He died back in ’79 when I was 23. He was 56 but he looked like he was in his eighties when he went. Alcoholism, pills and nicotine got the best of him. I am lucky to have avoided a similar fate!
Good on you. Shame on your father.