Wednesday, December 27, 2000

I was Kid 1

By GREGORY K. MOFFATT, PH.D
Child's Play

My 8-year-old daughter came running up to me obviously full of excitement.

"I got a speaking part in the Christmas play," she told me.

I was so excited for her. I remember as a child how important it was to me to be singled out for a speaking part in a play. My daughter elaborated.

"Yeah," she said, "I'm Kid 1."

I tried to keep from laughing. I don't know what I expected, but I know I wasn't ready for "Kid 1." I told her how happy I was for her to have been chosen.

"I've already memorized my line," she told me as she quickly recited her one big line.

A couple of weeks before Christmas, I watched my daughter, her name listed in the printed program as "Kid 1," flawlessly deliver her line. I was so proud.

In this play, my daughter's character didn't have a name, only "Kid 1," but it was very important to her to have been "chosen." It made her feel important. As usual, it was one of my children who reminded me, although unintentionally, how important my job as a parent is.

My children sit in my lap and look up to me for identity, purpose and value. They get it from other places, such as participation in a Christmas play, but I am primarily responsible for communicating worth to my children. Adults can easily forget how important seemingly little things are to children and how thoughtless words can easily defeat or even destroy a child's esteem.

Most of us can remember times in our childhood when something seemed terribly important to us. When we tried to share it with someone who was important to us, like a parent, he or she didn't seem to appreciate its significance. Undoubtedly, that hurt our feelings.

Even now as an adult, isn't it defeating when you try to share your excitement with your spouse and he or she doesn't seem interested? We can easily take it personally and we are adults! So much more so is this true with children.

I let the facial expressions of my children tell me how important something is to them. If their faces say, "this is a big deal," then it is a big deal for me, too. Adolescents have learned to hide their feelings in order to protect themselves from discouragement so they are a harder to read.

I try to put myself in their place. I ask myself, "If I were in their shoes, would it be a big deal?" If so, it is important to me even if they say it isn't to them.

People have an innate need to feel competent and worthwhile. As adults, we fill this need through our hobbies, activities, jobs, or other areas of interest.

Children have not developed coping skills or objective ways to evaluate their competence. They live in a world where their competence is always open to question. Their self-worth teeters daily on a high wire.

They can quickly begin to doubt their competence because of a poor grade, an embarrassing episode in front of friends, or an unkind word. Likewise, their competence can be affirmed if they are picked for a part in a play, if they perform well on a test, or if a parent for no special reason says, "you are important to me."

I think of esteem like a suitcase full of ideas. We start life with empty luggage, and as we go through life, we fill our suitcase with the comments and ideas of others regarding our self-worth.

As we reach adulthood, that suitcase is reflective of our views of ourselves. Even though we cannot, and should not, protect our children from all discouragement, I want the suitcases that my children carry into adulthood to be filled with many more ego-strengthening comments and behaviors than ego-defeating ones. I work to purposefully reach that goal.

As the New Year approaches, I challenge you to resolve to look more carefully for opportunities to build confidence in your child than you may have in the past. I know I will my daughter was Kid 1!