"Look at me"

How many times have you heard a parent say to a child they were scolding.... "Look at me when I'm talking to you." ?  Maybe you say it yourself.  When I first began parenting years ago I myself said it more often than I would like to admit.  I no longer believe it is a somewhat mean, and probably unrealistic, and not useful  thing to ask of any child, and particularly if you are raising a foster child who may have been exposed to abuse. 

Think about a time that you as an adult were in the wrong.  Try to recapture the way you felt when you found out that your wrong had been discovered. Maybe it was something you messed up at work and your boss called you into the office.  Do you remember what your stomach felt like? your knees? your hands?  Did you want to meet or avoid the boss' eyes? I know that for myself  one of the hardest things to do is to apologize to someone when I have really screwed up. To do it while looking them in the eyes?  Pure torture. 

My change in heart came when I was a young, beginning teacher and had made some error that ended in a "Please see me as soon as you can" note from my principal.  To this day, over 40 years later, I cannot remember what my "sin" was.  I remember that it turned out not to be anything so awful, but I don't remember the specific error.  I do remember that the principal felt it necessary to "make me sweat" as a teaching tool so that I would learn from my mistake... or at least that is what he said to me years later when I received recognition as a master teacher.  What I DO remember even 40 years later is how horrible , how long, the morning was until I had a break to go see him, how I felt heading down the hall, and waiting to go into his office.  I felt so very small, so humiliated, and wanted to just disappear. When the door to his office finally opened I went in on wooden shaky legs. I remembered how often he bellowed "Look at me when I'm talking to you" to students in trouble  and knew I had to look at him.  Nonetheless my eyes seemed glued to the floor, and almost impossible to raise.  Even now I remember thinking that meeting his eyes was one of the hardest things I had ever done, and even when I met his eyes, they would keep looking away almost of their own volition. It took all my energy to keep bringing them back to meet his eyes and his disapproval and anger.  I can still close my eyes and see his face and when I do, it is the angry face of that one moment more than the relaxed faces that I saw all the other times we chatted. It is burned in my memory.

Later that afternoon I found myself scolding my foster daughter for doing something dangerous [she had run toward the road] and I heard my self say "Look at me."  Suddenly I recognized in her eyes all the things I had felt that morning.   I realized how I must have made her feel, what her insides were going through.  She had been through abuse and neglect and had a right to be fearful of an upset adult.  I, an adult and one who had never had reason to fear for my safety, had felt fearful that morning in the face of an adult's anger. At seven she had survived years of previous abuse and neglect.  She had a right [a need even] to be fearful of an upset adult.  So what was she feeling?  What was I doing???  I remember how when I met my bosses eyes, it felt like an ocean roaring in my head, blotting out everything he was saying. I barely heard a word he was saying it was so hard to get past the embarrassment and the effort to meet his angry gaze. Yes, I needed to correct her. What she had done was dangerous.  But what I was doing was not helping her learn the lesson I was trying to teach. In fact, it was probably getting in the way. It was a pivotal moment.

I can't say that I never said those words again.  I did.  But I tried not to say it.  I tried to remember that my children were hearing my words regardless of whether they were looking at me.  In some ways they could hear my words better if they weren't using all their emotional strength to meet my eyes.  I tried to make it okay to not meet my eyes when they felt embarrassed or ashamed.  I tried to teach myself to make it easier and safer for them to meet my eyes, to make those talks less punitive, more communication.  When I say "Look at me" these days, I want it to be because there is a big smile on my face.  I want them to be able to close their eyes and see a smiling face.  I want to use it not when I am angry or disappointed in them.  I want them to "Look at me" when I am proud of them.  That's the image I want burned in their memories!