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Curiosity: how can children’s behaviour help us understand what they need from us?

“Watch your plants and see what they’re telling you” (Ollie Walker, Hosta grower, Gardeners’ World, BBC2, 14.6.19).

Ollie Walker has fallen in love with the diversity of Hostas and delights in watching them grow.  This is some dedicated watching: the nursery he works at stock over 800 varieties.  Noticing small changes in thousands of plants, he knows exactly which nutrients are needed for the healthiest growth.

Many babies are fortunate enough to be watched with arguably much greater devotion than this.  For starters, the care-giver: cared-for ratio is much better – 1:1 attention at least.  The sense of wonder surrounding a new-born breeds connectedness which begins relationship. It gives the baby an experience of felt safety, of being held psychologically as well as physically. This is just as well.  We now know that early attachment relationships are a foundation for all forms of later development.  As Winnicott said, “there is no such thing as a baby.” [i]  Infants cannot exist independent of someone to look after them.

An attuned care-giver is open to a baby’s non-verbal communication -her cry, gaze, gesture, smell, touch or muscle tone – and finds meaning there. “Good enough” parents provide consistent, appropriate care and interaction enough of the time. Inevitable mis-attunements are further food for curiosity, opportunities for adjustment and repair which strengthen attachment and resilience. Toddlers and children of all ages, continue to require the mind of a benignly curious adult to scaffold development.  Behaviour is a window to a child’s inner world of thoughts, feelings and body states.

All children, at one time or other, behave in ways which cannot be dealt with easily or quickly and might be perplexing, concerning, maddening or all three.  Those children growing up in environments where their needs are not sufficiently met or where they are unsafe will be more likely to do this.  We may find that even our best intentions and the most tried and tested behaviour management strategies are not effective.  This is often because they have not evolved from a relational understanding of the child’s needs and what is being communicated through the behaviour.

Staying curious can be hard if there is pressure from friends or family to quickly stamp out unwanted behaviour. Or we may be driven by a need to make something better and hurry to provide instruction, fix a problem or eradicate pain without first considering what the matter might be.  These can also be the behaviours which trigger our own vulnerabilities.

In addition to highlighting aspects of our own internal make-up, intense emotional experiences inside of us can be an effective clue as to what children themselves are feeling.  This is central to Wilfred Bion’s development of Melanie Klein’s theory of Projective Identification.[ii]  Bion proposed that not only can unwanted feelings be projected into another person, who then feels those feelings, but that this process serves the purpose of communication.  For example, a looked after child who sabotages her own birthday meal after a lovely family day out may cause a foster carer to feel rejected and resentful.  This could be thought about as the child (unconsciously) letting her carer know about both early experiences of rejection and how hard it is to believe in her own capacity or deservedness to sustain states of joy in the present.

For children with experience of trauma, challenging behaviour and Projective Identification may be the only means they have of telling the emotional story of what has happened to them.  It can seem counter-intuitive, but we need to welcome this and, alongside setting appropriate boundaries, seek to find meaning in it.

Symbolism in the child’s play and other activity can be very revealing about a child’s inner world and language itself can be thought about beyond its literal meaning.  For example, a child who repeatedly says she is hungry, when we know she has recently eaten, may be letting us know she is hungry for connection, as opposed to food.

It is the wondering process here which is as or more important than the resulting care itself.  Through close observation and knowledge of the child and attention to his/her own emotional response to what is happening, a care-giver takes in the communication of discomfort, frustration, distress, fear and so on, reflects on it, digests it, and feeds it back in a more manageable form, often through words, as well as through tone/ gaze/ affect/ posture/ actions.  Correspondingly, the child feels accepted, held and understood and receives a message that his/her care-giver is able and willing to be alongside and help manage emotional pain.

This is what Bion called “containment”, the parent as “container” the child as “contained” – in my view, one of the greatest gifts we can give to the younger generation. Through repeated experiences of this kind, children develop their own capacity to think about and process feelings.

In addition to patience, true curiosity requires flexible thinking, open to the myriad nuances of human behaviour.  The same actions can have different meanings for different children or even for the same child, such as a troubled 7 year-old boy who would regularly take himself into the corner during a PE lesson and sit with his head in his lap.  Over time, staff learned that he would do this both when he was hyper-aroused (worked up) and needed space away from others to calm down and when he was hypo-aroused (switched off) and in need of company and livening up.

In psychotherapy with children (and in therapeutic parenting work) we are often dealing with issues which have felt too difficult to think about and make sense of.  The therapist’s task is to engage, observe, listen to, accept, be curious about and sit alongside a child, gently helping to make thinkable the unthinkable.  This takes time.  Emotional defences are there for a reason and require sensitive handling.

Holding steadfast to curiosity is one of our soundest investments with children.  If we can start to wonder about a child’s behaviour, we stand a much greater chance of coming up with an effective way to meet his/ her needs.  As Gerda Hanko (Educational Psychotherapist) and others have said: “Don’t just do something, stand there!”

Michael Reeves is a Psychotherapist working with children and young people aged 4-18 and/or their parents/carers. He is available as a clinical supervisor for training or practising therapists and counsellors, whose work is primarily focused on children/ families/ parents. He is available at our Lewes Practice.

 

Further reading by Michael Reeves –

Acceptance – What does it have to do with managing children’s difficult behaviour?

 

Resources – 

[i] Winnicott, D.W. (1960). The Theory of the Parent-Infant Relationship. Int. J. Psycho-Anal., 41:585-595.

[ii] Bion, W.R. (1962b). Learning from Experience. London: Heinemann

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“Ghosts in the Nursery” – The Power of Family Scripts

 

 

As much as we might fight it, our own experiences of being parented, create within us blueprints or ‘internal working models’ of what it is to be a parent. These models only become fully activated when we become parents ourselves, and often take us by surprise. For instance, we may find ourselves ‘turning into’ our parents in ways we hadn’t intended. Similarly, memories from our past can be unexpectedly invoked in us when our own children reach the same age. 

Selma Fraiberg (1987) emotively referred to this phenomenon as “ghosts in the nursery” – the idea that without conscious effort to alter entrenched family patterns, family life can essentially become a ‘rehearsal’ for the next generation. More commonly, we refer to this phenomenon as the enactment of ‘family scripts’. John Byng-Hall (1985) proposed three ways in which these family scripts may manifest – 

  1. REPLICATIVE SCRIPTS: 

These scripts are a direct replication of the parenting that we received ourselves. They can include replication of positive scripts (e.g. family rituals, ways of nurturing children, ways of enforcing boundaries, certain sayings, etc.). They can also include replicating negative (unresolved) scripts, which may be consciously replicated (e.g. “smacking never did me any harm”) or unconsciously replicated (e.g. needing to hide one’s sad or angry feelings from a parent can make it harder for these children to later recognise or respond to these feelings in their own children).

  1. CORRECTIVE SCRIPTS:

These family scripts are a conscious decision to offer our children a different experience of being parented to what we received ourselves. The danger for this type of script, however, is that because they are driven from an emotional response to our past, there is a risk that we will go too far the other way (e.g. feeling hard done by as an older child, so favouring our own eldest child).

  1. IMPROVISED SCRIPTS: 

These family scripts relate to the ability to flexibly and creatively amalgamate what we most value from our own experiences of being parented, with what we now value and learn from new relationships, education, culture, etc. We generally consider that the most resilient and healthy families adopt this form of script. 

Difficulties can arise when damaging or unhealthy replicative family scripts cannot be consciously thought about by parents. In extreme cases, these can negatively impact upon a parent’s relationship with their child and therefore, their child’s subsequent emotional well-being. For the most part, however, activation of family scripts is normal, inevitable, and actually helps children to become embedded within the familial and social context to which they belong. Indeed, almost all the parents that I meet in my work (myself included), offer a fascinating mix of all three of the above scripts to their children.

References:

Byng-Hall, J. (1985). The family script: A useful bridge between theory and practice. Journal of Family Therapy, 7, 301-305

Fraiberg, S., Adelson, E. & Shapiro, V. (1980). Ghosts in the nursery: A psychoanalytic approach to the problem of impaired infant-mother relationships. Journal of the American Academy of Child Psychiatry, 14, 3.

 

Dr Laura Tinkl is a Senior Chartered Clinical Psychologist, professionally accredited by both the Health and Social Care Professions Council (HCPC) and The British Psychological Society (BPS). Appointments can be made in the Lewes Practice.

 

Further reading by Dr Laura Tinkl –

When praise becomes harmful to children

The role of ‘attunement’ in relationships with babies and young children

What is ‘Blocked Care’ as it applies to parenting?

 

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Acceptance: What does it have to do with managing children’s difficult behaviour?

The Paradoxical Theory of Change[i]  states that we can only change aspects of ourselves when we first become what we are.  Likewise, in order to support children’s development, we also need first to see them for who they really are and accept where they are at.

This can be a difficult thing to do.  To begin with, we need to be present with children for long enough and with sufficient attunement to really get to know who they are and how they are doing.  This is perhaps one of the greatest challenges for many parents today, with the pressures of work and the distractions of technology.  I once passed a young boy walking with his Mum who was on her phone.  “Mum, you’re not listening” said the boy, tugging at her sleeve. “I am listening” she said, not looking up.  “But you’re not hearing me” the boy replied.

Quantity of time together is important, but quality of contact is what matters most.  Setting aside a block of time for a planned activity at home or a trip out will usually be very well received.  In addition, briefer periods are valuable windows of opportunity for everyday re-connection through child-directed play, shared tasks and focused listening.

Really being present with a child can be challenging for other reasons.  When we look and listen we can be alerted to traits and behaviours  which we may find irritating or displeasing.  This can leave us feeling that we have failed as practitioners or parents and, at desperate times, that perhaps we made a monumental error ever choosing to take on a role of responsibility with children.  We may feel disempowered, at a loss as to how to help and so we look the other way as the task seems too big. Challenging child behaviours may also reflect vulnerabilities in our own character that we would rather not acknowledge.

For children who have experienced complex developmental trauma (repeated adverse experiences over time), there can be an additional avoidance, in society at large and even in adults providing care and support.  These insecurely attached children usually develop their own defensive patterns of behaviour.  These can be aimed at either deflecting adult attention by presenting as pseudo-independent or drawing adults in to collude with their own negative self-view through becoming critical, rejecting or punitive towards them.  Adults and systems taking up these scripts struggle to see beyond the child’s surface behaviours and may unconsciously be finding a way not to witness and sit with the child’s emotional pain, the enormous elephant of loss in the room.  This protects individuals and services from the powerless anguish of imagining the horror and injustice of what life might have been like for a child during periods of abuse or neglect.

Once present and engaged with children, our next task is acceptance. In Dan Hughes’ P.A.C.E. approach to parenting[ii], the ‘A’ – Acceptance, is the fore-runner to Curiosity.  This is not about condoning or encouraging negative behaviours.  It is about being real and seeing the whole child for who he or she is.  By accepting what is happening for a child, we are joining him/her and building a bridge, making it possible to develop understanding and then convey empathy.

This kind of acceptance is about taking an integrated view of human beings, steering clear of both idealisation and demonising.  We accept that all of us have different parts which includes parts that we might think of as positive and negative.  We go on existing, despite our apparent contradictions.  Vulnerable children often need help with this as they split the world into either good or bad and fear that we will reject them if their less favourable parts are visible or made conscious. We can model integration for children by talking about different parts of ourselves – our cake-loving part, our grumpy part, our forgiving part.[iii]

True acceptance is not about putting up with behaviour and it is more welcoming than tolerance, more than bearing and giving permission to another’s way of being.  It is about setting judgement aside as much as we are able, and privileging connection and relationship.  It says “I am going to be with you no matter what you do and I am going to stay open and engaged to you, whatever you try to do to push me away”.

Acceptance is therefore unconditional.  Even in their darkest, wildest and most hurtful moments we accept children and stay open and engaged.  Without this, connection is lost and curiosity, understanding and empathy become marooned. This can feel like a radical, even reckless, position to take, but it is essential for building emotional resilience and enabling relational repair, both in the home and the therapy room.

Michael Reeves is a Psychotherapist working with children and young people aged 4-18 and/or their parents/carers. He is available as a clinical supervisor for training or practising therapists and counsellors, whose work is primarily focused on children/ families/ parents. He is available at our Lewes Practice.

 

Resources – 

[i] Beisser, Arnold (1970) The Paradoxical Theory of Change  https://www.gestalt.org/arnie.htm

[ii] Golding, Kim (2017)  Everyday Parenting with Security and Love.  Jessica Kingsley.

[iii] Bomber, Louise (2007)  Inside I’m Hurting.  Worth Publishing.

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When praise becomes harmful to children

Contrary to its intention, praise does not always make a child feel good.

Whilst we might typically think of praise as a gift, it is technically an evaluative judgement on the other person (e.g. “you’re a good girl” or “you’re a brilliant artist”), which for some children can be experienced as threatening or even dysregulating (Stephen Porges Polyvagal Theory).

This risk is particularly pronounced in children whose earliest relationships have not enabled them to trust in the safety of relationships and/or have caused them to develop negative core beliefs about themselves as inherently bad or unlovable. For these children, being told that they are “good” or “fantastic” at something, is so far removed from their own sense of themselves that they cannot make use of it. More likely, they will be put on high alert for when the other person will no longer see them as “good” and will see their true self. It also creates inevitable comparison – and therefore, competition, with other children. For very traumatised children, therefore, ‘global praise’ (or generalised, non-specific praise), can actually act to undermine their trust in the safety of their relationship with the person giving it to them (Hughes, Golding & Hudson, 2019).

Whilst not all children have experienced developmental trauma, however, it is still true that global praise is not helpful to children. This is because it contains too little information about what the giver is enjoying about the child, or what they are doing well, for them to make use of it. Indeed, a natural tendency (for any of us!) when offered global praise, is to immediately deny it (e.g. “I don’t always have gorgeous hair! You didn’t see me yesterday!”), to assume that the giver is lying or does not know what they are talking about (“As if I always sound intelligent!”), to focus on our weaknesses (e.g. “Clever! You should see me doing my times tables!”), to make us anxious (e.g. “I’ll never be able to hit the ball again now you’ve said I’m a good shot!”) or to assume that we are being manipulated (e.g. “What’s she after?”; Faber & Mazlish, 2001).

A healthier alternative to global praise is ‘descriptive praise’. That is, the act of actively looking for specific things that you appreciate, value or enjoy about your child (e.g. “You two have just sat there colouring for 20 minutes with no squabbling”, or “You picked up all your toys, thank you!”) In offering descriptive praise, parents and professionals should attend as much, if not more so, to the effort that a child is making as their achievements (e.g. “I can see you are putting so much hard work into revising your spellings”). They should also ‘own’ their opinions (e.g. “I really like what you’ve drawn there. I like the stripes on your zebra. I think that’s a great drawing!” rather than “you’re a brilliant artist!”).

Unlike global praise, descriptive praise helps to build children’s self-esteem. This is because it supports children to start to recognise the positives in themselves. This happens because having someone else point out specific things that they like or value about them, in a way that they actually can hear and accept it, enables children to give themselves the praise they deserve (e.g. “Yeah, I did draw that chimney well”). Descriptive praise can also be a wonderful way of building enjoyment, joy, trust and security in attachment relationships, for instance, building in a period of descriptive praise for the child before they go to sleep each night. Further, descriptive praise can help to build a child’s resilience, as parents can support their child to start to recognise all their strengths in the face of adversity (e.g. “I know you’re sad that you didn’t make the football team, but I was so impressed with how you went and congratulated the other players. I thought that was really kind”).

For descriptive praise to be effective, however, it should always be within the context of GENUINE heartfelt appreciation and gratitude for the child or their behaviour, as our non-verbal communication is always stronger than our verbal.

References:

Faber, A. & Mazlish, E. (2001). How to talk so kids will listen and listen so kids will talk. Piccadilly Press

Hughes, D., Golding, K. & Hudson, J. (2019). Healing Relational Trauma with Attachment-Focused Interventions: Dyadic developmental psychotherapy with children and families. W. W. Norton & Company.

Porges, S. (2019). Home of Dr. Stephen Porges. www.stephenporges.com; Accessed: 2019.06.07

 

Dr Laura Tinkl is a Senior Chartered Clinical Psychologist, professionally accredited by both the Health and Social Care Professions Council (HCPC) and The British Psychological Society (BPS). Appointments can be made in the Lewes practice.

 

Further reading by Dr Laura Tinkl –

The role of ‘attunement’ in relationships with babies and young children

What is ‘Blocked Care’ as it applies to parenting?

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Is growing up in a different culture always a good thing?

The world today seems smaller than ever before.  We think nothing of travelling to once exotic destinations for our annual holiday and more and more of us are choosing to live in countries other than that of our birth.

Alongside these effects of globalisation is that of children who are now growing up in cultures other than that of their parents and yet remaining to varying degrees apart from the culture of the country they live in.  These children are known as Third Culture Kids.

What defines a Third Culture Kid?

The term Third Culture Kids (TCKs) was first defined in the 1950’s to give a classification and understanding to American children growing up outside of the United States.  Technically it refers to a child who is likely to have parents (or a parent) who are working in a foreign country (or countries) for a period of time and the child therefore spends a significant part of their development growing up in that country; they therefore neither really belong to their original nor host culture and are defined as being of a ‘third culture’.

Effects of globalisation

More and more children are growing up as TCKs as people think less and less of living and working in other cultures and countries.  The benefits of being a TKD are obvious if not always ubiquitous: TCKs learn to mix with other cultures; they frequently speak multiple languages; they are more likely to undertake a degree and can easily feel at home anywhere.

So, are there only positives?

Put simply, no.  If a child grows up as a TCK and has a ‘secure base’ – is securely attached to their caregivers – then the experience can often be largely positive though still comes with a price such as a loss of belonging, limited contact with wider family, confused loyalties etc.

However, if a child has a less than ‘good enough’ home environment then the experience of being a TCK can exacerbate their lack of boundaries and can make neglect and/or abuse more likely as there is no wider family network or community to care for the child.

It takes a village to raise a child

In my clinical work I have come across individuals who have survived extremely neglectful or virtually non-existent parenting, who have nonetheless managed to locate enough consistency in adults around them in order to be OK.  In other words, there is great truth and wisdom to the old adage that it takes a village to raise a child and often, the village is the container and parent for the child where their biological parents have failed them.

Third culture kids and loss

Loss is a key aspect of growing up as a TCK.  There is often the initial loss of ‘home; to overcome – house, town, culture, extended family, friends, identity – which can be a significant shock in itself.

However, the losses continue to define TCKs as it is extremely likely that if they are growing up as part of an expatriate community, friends, teachers and familiar faces will come and go fairly frequently as contracts end and jobs take the adults elsewhere in the globe.  This can be a particular challenge when it comes to the frequent and ongoing loss of friends which is often the hardest part of a TCKs experience.

On a psychological level the losses combined with a lack of cultural embeddedness and identity can lead to difficulty in settling down, committing and fitting in.  This can then translate to anxiety, depression and a sense of free-floating dread.

A rolling stone gathers no moss

Third Culture Kids can grow up to become Global Nomads, relishing the confidence that being able to settle anywhere brings to them.  However, this is also often not the case and TCKs can oscillate between a dread of not belonging versus a fear of putting roots down and building an ordinary life with substance.

As with most experiences, whether something is positive, or negative is so very often contingent on how secure a child feels in the relationship with their parents.  With a secure base, we feel safe enough to venture further from home, even when that means exploring other cultures.

Mark Vahrmeyer is a UKCP registered psychotherapist and a self-defined Third Culture Kid who, by the age of 12, had attended 10 schools across five countries.  He speaks four languages and is attuned to working with Third Culture Kids, Global Nomads and Existential Migrants, as well as anyone struggling with cross-cultural experiences. Mark sees clients in Hove and Lewes.

 

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