Probletunities by Carolyn

The school district I used to work for had a special word for difficulties: probletunities. This was intended to give the idea that problems were opportunities for growth or improvement.

To me, the term probletunities seems so very glib, so shmaltzy, as if we should be glad of the barriers or struggles or failures we encounter in our jobs or our relationships or just in our daily lives; that they should be celebrated as chances to grow and improve. "Yippee!" we might say, "I burnt the roast for tonight's dinner and our guests will be here in twenty minutes. Now I have a chance to improve myself by solving this problem!" Or "Hooray! I hit the accelerator instead of the brake and ran into this brick wall. I'm so glad I now have the opportunity to grow as I have the car towed and struggle to find the money for repairs. I know this will ultimately make me a better person." Not likely for most of us.

I dislike the term probletunities, but I do applaud the sentiment. Although it seems counter-intuitive, it is true that we learn more from mistakes or struggles than from successes.

As a parent, grandparent, and educator, I have observed this to be true, yet it is still difficult to allow those we care about to go through difficulties. Not only do we not want to engage in struggles or experience failures ourselves, but we don't want our loved ones to, either.  One of the characteristics almost all parents have in common is that they want the best for their children. We want them to have happy, healthy lives, so we do our best to smooth out the rough spots for them. By not allowing them to experience the common struggles in life and working toward solutions, we may be setting them up to be less responsible, less diligent, less appreciative.

Most of the teachers I have known (and that is a lot!) are, by nature, "helpers". They have a deep desire to nurture and help people, particularly children. Unfortunately, this can lead to being too helpful. It is very common for students to complain about a task being too hard. Our first instinct is to swoop in and help. Rather, we should allow a little reasonable struggle, providing just enough support. This builds persistence, confidence, willingness to try new things. If we are never given the opportunity to try things that are just a little harder than what we have already mastered, how will we ever grow and learn? Everything we ever accomplish as human beings comes about because we have tried something just a little bit harder than what we did before or we have experienced some sort of problem that has forced us to come up with a better way of doing things.

I have seen an increase in what I label "learned helplessness" in children, both in classrooms and with their parents. While I don't think we should go out of our way to make things difficult for children, I do think it is easy to overdo the rescuing we are inclined to do. In my previous life as an assistant principal, I dealt with many parents who were determined not to allow their children to undergo any type of negative consequences for misbehavior. I often told them that it was better to allow children to experience (and survive) small punishments for small infractions when they were young (and, hopefully, learn the concept of cause and effect from it) than to experience those same lessons when they were older, their mistakes were larger, and the punishments more severe.

So, while I don't really like the term probletunities, I do embrace the idea that we learn best by experiencing and overcoming trials and by stretching ourselves to reach just a little bit farther than we were able to yesterday.

Who to blame?

By Susan

When my son was a toddler and would get in trouble for breaking things or doing something he wasn't supposed to do, his response was: "Accie did it!"  I guess he must have heard us say "it was an accident" and thought it was a person who usually caused problems and hence could be blamed for anything.  That's when I started worrying about how to teach my children to take responsibility for their own actions while at the same time know when to advocate for themselves.  It's a fine balance. And children really learn from the example of the adults around them more so than by being told.  In other words,  I can't really teach it to someone if I haven't found that balance myself.  I think of how often I might say: "You are making mommy lose her patience," or "See what you made me do?" Of course, children can be irritating and test our patience at times,  but ultimately I am in charge of my responses.  Little by little,  children can begin to see the possibility of putting the blame for their actions on outside forces.  Once I was hosting a group of nine and ten year olds at my house.  They became excessively rambunctious and disruptive while playing.  When one of the parents came to pick them up and asked how they had behaved, I mentioned the fact that they had had a rough time.  The parent asked if I had served them any sweets.  I mentioned that I had offered them some cookies as a snack.  "That's it then," said the parent.  "He gets like that when he eats too much sugar." I don't deny that food can have a negative effect on some children but providing that as a quick excuse for bad behavior, absolved the children from taking responsibility for their actions.   I remember as a child when I would fall or run into a piece of furniture, grown ups would try to comfort me by blaming the inanimate object that had hurt me.  Bad table! Why did you hurt my baby?  When I had children of my own, I was afraid that such words, even though spoken out of love, would subtly convey the message that when hurt or angry, our response should be to find someone or something to blame. We so want to protect our children and stand up for them. Especially if we felt vulnerable and defenseless as children ourselves. But it is possible that in the process we rob them of the ability to evaluate a situation and assume the appropriate measure of responsibility.

Some of us grew up in settings where it was always our fault.  Teachers and other adults were always right and our side of the story was never heard. So we end up blaming ourselves for everything.  I think the balance comes from learning to practice truthfulness and justice with ourselves first, and then with our children. I think we all have an inner voice that tries to tells us what is true and just. When we ignore it, it grows quieter and quieter, until one day it is completely silenced.  Our job as parents then is to nurture this voice within ourselves and help our children find theirs and listen to it.