discipline vs beating the hell out of your kid
Today is my "day off." Usually, I sleep in, eat some breakfast and watch D take care of A for a bit, then they go to Nana and Pop-Pop's for lunch and I can chill till evening. It's a great setup, though to be honest and completely selfish, I seem to always need more time alone. Hermit, remember?
So I went to the gym today, first time in a week and a half, and expected it to be packed with New-Year's resolutions-in-action. It will taper off again in March, maybe February if there's snow and cold. I sat in the car for a minute or two, listening to my new favorite album (beatles--LOVE. brilliant remixes) and feeling hazy, looking forward to working off my funk.
I walked up to the entrance of the Y (33rd Street, used to be Memorial Stadium) and saw a group of about 5 kids, 11 and under, on the benches waiting. The oldest, a girl, was screaming at the youngest, a wailing little boy who looked maybe 3 or so, grabbing him by the arm and trying to pull him back to the bench. I started to walk by, but then she hit him three times on the shoulders and I told her to stop it. I said, "Don't hurt him! I know it's hard because I have a little one too, but don't hit him. That's not going to help." I asked where their mom was and she just stared at me--all the kids stared at me like I was some kind of alien--and then I went inside. She started hitting the kid again and another lady who walked in with me was like, what should we do? And all I could say was I just want to cry, and I did. I ran down to the changing room and just sobbed. God! Have mercy on me, and that whole family. I know it is nothing compared to what thousands of children go through every day in secret. It is horrible! And just today I felt that same rage when A didn't want to obey anything I told him to do. I didn't hit him, but I wanted to. I don't think I am any better than that girl because it is in all of us, every one. I am filled with revulsion, and despair and pity and cowardice. I can see the future for that little boy if he stays here, if you can call dropping out and drugs and prison and an early death a future. But what can I do? I can't do what I have done, walk past and mind my own business. It is my business, that the weak are defended and that people who bear the image of God are treated with the dignity they deserve. We live too close to this other world to ignore what is going on. I want to rip my clothes and put ashes on my head, like the prophets, or at least wear all black like D does now. God help me.
So I went to the gym today, first time in a week and a half, and expected it to be packed with New-Year's resolutions-in-action. It will taper off again in March, maybe February if there's snow and cold. I sat in the car for a minute or two, listening to my new favorite album (beatles--LOVE. brilliant remixes) and feeling hazy, looking forward to working off my funk.
I walked up to the entrance of the Y (33rd Street, used to be Memorial Stadium) and saw a group of about 5 kids, 11 and under, on the benches waiting. The oldest, a girl, was screaming at the youngest, a wailing little boy who looked maybe 3 or so, grabbing him by the arm and trying to pull him back to the bench. I started to walk by, but then she hit him three times on the shoulders and I told her to stop it. I said, "Don't hurt him! I know it's hard because I have a little one too, but don't hit him. That's not going to help." I asked where their mom was and she just stared at me--all the kids stared at me like I was some kind of alien--and then I went inside. She started hitting the kid again and another lady who walked in with me was like, what should we do? And all I could say was I just want to cry, and I did. I ran down to the changing room and just sobbed. God! Have mercy on me, and that whole family. I know it is nothing compared to what thousands of children go through every day in secret. It is horrible! And just today I felt that same rage when A didn't want to obey anything I told him to do. I didn't hit him, but I wanted to. I don't think I am any better than that girl because it is in all of us, every one. I am filled with revulsion, and despair and pity and cowardice. I can see the future for that little boy if he stays here, if you can call dropping out and drugs and prison and an early death a future. But what can I do? I can't do what I have done, walk past and mind my own business. It is my business, that the weak are defended and that people who bear the image of God are treated with the dignity they deserve. We live too close to this other world to ignore what is going on. I want to rip my clothes and put ashes on my head, like the prophets, or at least wear all black like D does now. God help me.
3 Comments:
I know whacha mean. I am so amazed at how having a child takes you to the extreme. Never before have you felt such love, but also such frustration! I think sometimes, the greatest act of love I can do for him is make sure he is afe and happy, then vent my frustration elsewhere....
The night after I read this post I had a horrific and vivid dream. Although it was nothing like this scenario, it was about children living in squalor while their parents neglected them or tolerated other's abuse of them.
They probably learned it from their parents. Teaching kids not to hit, by hitting them. Gotta love it!
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