Thoughts, information, encouragement, and practical advice.
Figuring out what’s making it hard
Okay, I get it: this isn't my fault, and my child's "behaviour" is their way of telling us something's making it hard for them. But how do I figure out what that is??
Here's where to start.
“Okay, I know this is not my fault, and my child’s behaviour is just their way of communicating that they need something. But how do I figure out what that is??”
Start with two questions:
What is your child supposed to be doing that they can’t do?
What might be making it hard?
To answer these, you become a detective, investigating characters, setting, and clues.
Start with your child. Ross Greene has fantastic resources for doing this, so I’ll be brief (do go check him out). Make sure you approach with no judgment, no punishment, no disappointment. Wait until they’ve recovered from the school day, then say something like, “Hey buddy, it seems like it’s been really hard in math class this week. What’s up?”* Then you listen, ask questions, and take seriously whatever they say, even if it seems unlikely.
What if they say, “I don’t know?” We don’t always know what’s bothering us. They may not have the self-awareness to know. I liken it to being hangry: I hate everyone and everything, but I don’t always realize it’s because I’m hungry until I eat and feel better. Oops.
They may not have the right words, especially if it’s something the neurotypical people who created language don’t experience. They may not be able to say, “I felt out of whack because we did music before math and the order of the day was all wrong.” Or they may worry that if they tell you, the magic they believe keeps them safe will break; they can’t say, “I couldn’t take the other staircase because every day I touch the bannister on our staircase, and that’s what keeps me safe at school.”
How to help, then? Try some guesses. “Hmm, so for some kids, math is hard because there are a lot of directions and they can’t keep them straight, or for some kids, sitting still for all of math is way too hard for their bodies, and for some kids, it’s super hard to work at a table with other kids making noise.” (Can’t think of guesses? We can brainstorm together.)
Take their ideas seriously, even if they are clearly not the problem (someday I’ll tell you about my kindergartner’s trip to the principal for failure to follow directions because “my hair was in my ear, so I couldn’t hear anything”). Most importantly, you’re going to reassure them that they’re not in trouble, you know they are trying, and they are not alone: you are going to figure this out together.
If your child really can’t say, or won’t engage in the conversation (do we adults like to engage in conversations about mistakes we’ve made?) you need to interview more characters. Start with the teacher (or with yourself, if it’s happening at home):
Where/when are problems happening?
What are the patterns?
Your teacher might say there are no patterns, no warning signs, it’s “0-60” or “all day long.” This is highly unlikely. Your child is not walking into the school building screaming, smacking people for 8 straight hours while still screaming, and going home.
Pick a specific instance or repeated issue, and get a picture of the scene before the incidents:
What is the setting? What time of day?
Who is there? How many people? How loud is it?
Is something different from the routine?
What is your child supposed to do, specifically, that they aren’t doing?
What warning signs or first attempts to ask for help are there? What seems to calm them down?
You are looking to put yourself in your child’s shoes fully, so you can see where the sticking points might be.
Once you have a picture of the scene, it may be obvious what’s hard (it’s always in French, it’s super hot in the French room, and your kid has sensory issues around heat). Or, you may need further detective work. This is where a diagnosis can be helpful, if your child has one: diagnoses aren’t exact descriptions of any one person, but they offer a place to start.
What things are typically difficult or different for people with this diagnosis? The best place to find out is from people with that diagnosis. Find people on social media who are #actuallyautistic or have ADHD or OCD or sensory processing issues or anything else, and read what they have to say about their experiences. You might get great ideas about what will help. You will certainly have a better understanding of aspects of your child’s experience.
Once you have some solid ideas, it’s time to start trying things out (start by Lowering the Bar).
Most of all, please remember your child is trying as hard as they can, and so are you. And neither of you is in this alone.
* This is not a perfect Ross Greene question, I know, but sometimes we don’t know what’s going on enough to be more specific.
It’s not about the behaviour
It's October. The honeymoon is over, and children are really starting to struggle at school and at home. But at The Huddle for Families, we know: it's not about the behaviour. It's about what it can tell us. Children who "misbehave" are overwhelmed, overtaxed, or under-supported, and it's our job to figure out what they need, not just to "eliminate unwanted behaviour." Read here to find out more, and where to get help.
It’s October, so for many kids and classrooms, the honeymoon is over. Anyone who spends most of their school day trying to hold it together just can’t any more. Or they can, but then they come home and fall apart. Children may have been struggling all along, or maybe teachers are getting serious and unwittingly ending supports kids were counting on. Either way, it’s harder now, and kids are letting us know.
How? Some kids cry or whine, some get stomachaches or mystery ailments, some take it out on other kids with mean words or bullying. Some become perfectionists, easily frustrated, or paralyzed by even the smallest changes. Some become the “class clown” or interrupt learning. And some kids scream, hit, run, or do other dangerous things.
It’s all the same. Everything I just described is communication. It’s all signs that a child is overwhelmed by the environment, overtaxed by the expectations, or under-supported and needs help. Some kids are able to express this in ways that are articulate (“I need help!”) or at least sympathetic (tears that melt adult hearts and make us say “Oh, honey, let me help you.”). Other kids are not. Those kids do things that get them scolded, sent to the office, or pointed at by peers. It’s all communicating a need for help, but some kids get it, and others get left out or labeled troublemakers.
How do we know this is true? Because we know this: children want to be “good” and successful and cherished. They are already trying as hard as they can to make adults happy. There is not a single child in the world who wakes up and says, “Today, I’m gonna ruin math class, be stared at in horror by my classmates, disappoint my teacher, and spend recess on the bench. I can’t wait!” They are trying. They are trying their hardest and failing, disappointing adults they love and ending up on the bench anyway, and they feel awful about it. Often they don’t even know what they did that made everyone so mad, because they were just trying to do what we want or to tell us they can’t. We know this because we were those kids, and because we have seen what happens when they get the support they need: they thrive.
The important thing is this: we must focus on that need, on what the behaviour can tell us, not on the behaviour itself. If we are only working to teach kids to control their behaviour (“stop interrupting!), or if we are trying to incentivize them to do what we want (“you’ll earn a sticker!”), we’re not addressing the actual problem, and we will always fail. As my own sassy-but-perceptive child once told a behaviour therapist, “You don’t care how I feel. You only care that I act good.”
All this month, The Huddle for Families is focusing on what might be behind the behaviour, so that kids can do more than act good. We’re working to help teachers and families figure out what children might need, because that is the absolute best way to make classrooms, households, and communities more inclusive, safer places for everyone, so everyone’s children can thrive.
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As usual, everything we do prioritizes lived experience, developmental and classroom expertise, and a safe, nonjudgmental community. Come together with other folks with similar questions, so we can laugh and figure it out together, to try to make it all a little easier, and so everyone can feel a little less alone.
Want to read more or find a specific article? Start here.
When a child can’t swim, we don’t punish them for struggling.
When a child can't swim, we don't punish them for struggling. Why should children who struggle with behaviour be any different? The Huddle for Families talks about treating children with behaviour challenges with empathy, support, and the understanding that we are all just trying to stay afloat.
If a child can’t swim, we don’t offer them stickers for staying afloat in the deep end. We offer them something that helps, like floaties, or we let them hang on to the wall. Sometimes, we let them stay in the shallow end until they feel confident.
We don’t just leave it at that, though. We teach them. We show them how to put their face in the water and blow bubbles, how to kick and tread water. We hold them, promising them they are safe, until they can do it alone. We don’t worry that if one kid has floaties, all the other kids will want them. We don’t take the floaties before they are ready, saying, “Well, they’re going to have to learn someday.” And we don’t worry that if we hold children up and promise them they are safe, they will never want to learn to swim.
When they falter, if they can’t make it across the pool, and they go down, a lifeguard jumps in. We don’t leave them there to teach them a lesson, even if they were misbehaving when we taught them to tread. And when they surface, stressed and spluttering, if in fighting for what feels like their lives, they flail and smack the lifeguard or spit pool water on another kid, we don’t yell that they should be more in control. We don’t decide that they are “violent.” We don’t “safe restrain” them.
When children (and adults) are overwhelmed or panicking, it can feel like drowning, like you are sinking to the bottom of the pool, spluttering and begging for help. Sometimes, you think you are begging for help, but adults see flailing and hear shrieking. Sometimes you get help. Sometimes the people you’ve been told are there to help offer only angry words or a lecture on respect or a physical restraint.
If a child can’t swim, we don’t chalk it up to “behaviour.” We don’t introduce them to a very calm, very nice lady with a folder full of stickers who will try to convince them that the next time, when they are drowning and in fear of their life, instead of flailing and sputtering, what we who have promised to hold them safe really want them to do is to take a deep breath.
What if we believed that every child was already trying their hardest to learn other things too? What if we agreed to interpret children’s behaviourally flailing and failing and yelling as cries for help, like we do in the pool? What if, instead of punishing or labeling, we worked to help them not panic, or to uncover what is making it hard and to offer children the accommodations they need?
The Huddle for Families helps parents and communities try things this way, to see “bad” behaviour as a cry for help, and to problem solve what children need to feel safe, competent, and at home. If your child is struggling, and you want a different way too, come on in.
Want to read more or find a specific article? Start here.
Is this all my fault?
It's not your fault. Your child is miserable and struggling, and sometimes the school and others make you wonder, "is this all my fault." It's not your fault. The Huddle for Families explains why, and how we help families and children who struggle with behaviour challenges.
No. This is not your fault. We promise. It’s not because you are a bad parent. It’s not because you fed her too much sugar, or let her stay up to eat with her father. It is not because you don’t have firm limits in your home or you’re not taking enough deep breaths or you’re not doing self care (although, we know you’re probably not). It’s not because you haven’t prayed hard enough for things to be easier for your child.
It’s not because you sometimes fight with your partner or you don’t have a partner or you have multiple partners or you have a same sex partner or there’s “no mother/father in the picture” or you’re not his “real” parent.
It’s not because you sometimes lose it and yell at him. Or at anyone.
It’s not that you know too much about children or don’t know enough about children or your older kid had a lot of plastic toys and the chemicals seeped into your pregnant belly, along with that glass of wine you had at your sister’s wedding. It’s not whatever else your mother/in-laws/mosque friend/book club/the lady in the grocery store line hit you with in the middle of that epic meltdown.
It’s not because you work outside the home or in the home or you gave up work to stay home or “you know this is because you’re working nights, right?”
Not right. None of it is right. All over the world, hundreds of thousands of families – millions of families – are doing all of those things, screwing up and eating gluten under truly not-perfect conditions and still not having meltdowns on the bus.
This Is Not. Your. Fault. Blame is the game of people who need to believe that good things and privilege happen to them because of the good things they do. And that therefore, there’s nothing they can do to help your child. Blame believes that if we were just “good” parents, short-order cook parents, devout, positive, gentle parents who also set firm limits and breathed mindfully, who spent any extra cash on private services or had a better “system” at home, if we just tried harder, it would all be okay.
It is not all okay. Your child is miserable. We know. It’s exhausting and heart-breaking and relentless. And also: it is still not your fault.
This can be hard to accept. Because if it’s our fault, at least that means there is SOMETHING we could be doing differently, something that would make it all easier for them. Honestly, that quick fix is a myth. We’re sorry.
This doesn’t mean it can’t get better, and it doesn’t mean there’s nothing you can do. But first, for you to have the energy and capacity to be the fierce warrior your child needs (because trust us, this is super hard on them most of all), you need ALL your capacity. You can’t be wasting time and brain space blaming yourself. So try to stop, okay?
Also, you can’t do this alone. You need a team. Friends, family who get it. Other parents who have been there, people who have realistic, informed advice and ideas, and a safe, non-judgmental community where you can let it all hang out.
Welcome to The Huddle, for Families. We are here to help. Come on in.
* Everything on this list is something someone suggested to us at some point. Sigh.
Want to read more or find a specific article? Start here.