I was so depressed last night. I couldn't do any writing. Today I am just as incredulous that two teens could amass so much fire power, and with hate, malice, and no regret, kill their classmates. Several students say they were laughing when they shot people. Is Evil abroad?
It makes me even more determined to attempt to teach parents about emotional intelligence. These young men certainly didn't have any. They knew nothing about recognizing their emotions or others' emotions; or controlling impulses or delaying gratification; or having empathy for others; or being able to handle relationships.
The i/t staff is so good at encouraging all those skills in the toddlers they work with. I'm amazed at how patiently they provide positive feedback for the tiniest sign of empathy in an egocentric two-year-old. At how they praise those beginning stabs at controlling impulses. And at how they name emotions for even the youngest babies. And set firm, but developmentally appropriate limits. And how they enjoy what they do, celebrating every little milestone. They are doing a good job.
But yesterday, in parenting class, a mother just wouldn't accept that screaming at her infants (one is just a year old and the other is 27 months) is not the way to help them learn self-control. "I don't want my kids to grow up like I did," she said, passionately, "ignoring everything my mother said." I could not get her to see that yelling and losing one's temper (which is what she said her mother did) was not helpful in the long run. It might stop the immediate behavior, but would not help develop self-control. I didn't have the heart to point out what happened to her as a result of her mother's behavior. She wouldn't have listened if I had, or she would have refused to come back to parenting class. It's a dilemma I face all the time.
So, I use the tactic of praising the good things I hear. And continuing to plug along at discipline techniques, bonding/attachment behaviors, understanding child development, learning to listen to your own emotions. Sometimes I see small movement towards respect for children. Often, though, these parents had such terrible childhoods that I can't get through.
I have the usual regrets that I didn't have more parenting skills when my children were little. Half the time I parented in direct opposition to how my mother treated me, and the other half of the time I imitated her. I have only one positive point in my favor: I truly ENJOYED my children. I thought they were wonderful, and funny, and lovable, and they made me happy every day. I struggled a lot with depression, but never, never lost sight of the joy those children brought me.
The news yesterday from Littleton, Colorado, still has me reeling. I've tried to think it through and make some sense out of it. I can't.
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