I remember the little girl in these photos! I remember her impulsiveness, her frenetic activity, her enthusiasm…and her fear. But I have also witnessed the growth and the willingness to excavate the origins of some of the default responses that were ingrained in you (and in me too!), and to question whether they continue to serve you or were just maladaptive coping mechanisms that allowed you to survive some of the mixed messages we received as children growing up in that loving, spiritual home where showering love and inflicting pain and fear came from the same people. They were raised to believe that was part of how you show that you love your children, but I remember questioning that when raising my own kids. Was I actually teaching them that inflicting pain is another way to show love? Was I teaching them that it was okay to “hit”? I ended up choosing “time outs”. But I even question THAT now. Did it say to them that disobedience led to abandonment, to ostracization, being shut away from the reach of love and acceptance. My own daughter has adopted a different approach with her impulsive, energetic and enthusiastic 6 year old young son. She pulls him away from the scenario where his inappropriate behavior took place, takes him into a quiet, dimly lit room and sits with him on her lap, doing a period of deep breathing with him, helping him to regulate his emotions and return to calm. Then she discusses his behavior, why he acted the way he did, and helps him consider alternate options if he finds himself in that situation again. If an amends or apology is to be made, she helps encourage him to understand why, how his behavior impacted someone else, and how they felt. When that very different “time out” ends, she has taught him how to calm himself, to step away from his impulsive emotions, to empathize with the person on the receiving end of his behavior, how to make amends and hopefully reconcile with the person he hurt (usually his 10 year old sister), and she has empowered him to heal the relationship and embrace some vital life lessons! His mom is a psychiatric social worker, so her method is based in solid and sound research, but most of all, her response to his behavior is consistent with the image of a loving, instructive and understanding parent who he will always feel comfortable with and of whom he is not afraid. Seems a lot better than the leather sewing strap Nana used or the long, thick elastic tubing, the “Jack LaLane Glamour Stretcher”, that Daddy and Mommy used!
As always, your writing exquisitely describes the experience, both objectively and internally, of growing up during the rather generally approved “spanking generation” that believed that if you spared the rod, you would spoil the child. Little did we know until we reached the time where hindsight and interior work revealed that our bodies still held on to the silent fear and belief that what we DID reflected our worth as a human being, and that we were petrified of speaking up or making a wrong move. We never really doubted the love, but we were definitely afraid of disciplinary consequences. They were not so much instructive, as painful reminders of how we had fallen short. Did they teach us the lesson that was intended? Or just teach us to fear the people we loved and believed loved us? Did this kind of discipline teach us how to respond differently in the future, to take the responsibility to control our emotions and behavior, or did it teach us to hide our behavior because if we got away with something, there were no consequences? Very important subject, both for the sweet little girl in the pictures, and for us all!
This is so generous, Cherry. And wise. Your daughter's approach is brilliant, and if I had a time machine…I'd love to go back for a redo with my own kids. I appreciate l you acknowledging that the part of me I was writing about isn’t really who I am today although I honored her experience and her voice in this essay. Thank you for “remembering” with me.
I value the tension in the contrasts here, Laury. The two solo portraits. The fear-based behaviors and the love. All of it resisting a tidy summing up. Like your painting. Reading this reminds me of how immensely complex life is for a child. And how as adults we find healing through honest reflection.
Thank you for this, Robin. I read this comment more than once. Your take—the details, the tension in the contrasts. Thank you for noticing and for sharing it. I'm so grateful.
How to hold both things as true: a loving family that practiced corporal punishment on children. Fear + Pain = Control Over. Does discipline equal love? How confusing that must have been to you growing up, Laury. I am so sorry.
I do love, though, how honor the child within, and how your paintings reflect a path to healing her pain--and yours. Beautiful.
It is easy to rage, harder to reflect in such a thoughtful and open way. Thank you for this one- for leading me gently through some of my own experiences. 🖤
Once ages ago a therapist asked me to bring in the very earliest photo I could find of me smiling. I've kept that photo on my bulletin board ever since. Your post reminds me of why this is important. Thank you.
I'm compelled to let the littlest part of me speak, the one who became locked in fear and struggled to find her way out. I remember her joy and her struggles. I forgot to add another picture of me smiling—circle back and take a look after a while. Thank you for listening, Bill.
Love love love the painting! And spanking to the point of leaving marks is actually illegal and considered child abuse. Sometimes it takes us a while to name abuse for what it is. I support you. BRAVA for this essay. Let me say that again: spanking or corporeal punishment that leaves marks (of any kind) is illegal and classified as child abuse.
I'm sorry you were spanked. I'm sorry it's what you learned. Crying is good, I'm quite a crier. But I don't think it's healthy, when you need to express angry feelings. We aren't taught that it's okay to feel angry, to object, to say no. I'm not Christian, and frankly all religion has different interpretations of itself. But did Jesus ever teach that hitting children is acceptable behavior? I somehow doubt it. I mean absolutely no disrespect. I was spanked once as a child. I wrote a story about it. My father was a very hesitant, nervous spanker (more like "patter" or "tapper"). What I remember most vividly is saying to myself at 4 years old, "whatever you do, don't laugh." And I didn't. It was definitely more upsetting to him than to me. My parents found other ways to discipline us that were much more powerful than hitting. I hated when I felt angry and cried instead of expressing what I was really feeling. I squelched my rage, and that did so much long term damage. And crying appropriate tears is very healing. I love your painting. xo
Exactly, Nan. The part about anger being masked by tears is so familiar to me now, but invisible for so many years. I just thought I didn't get angry. I have similar damage, the worst of which was freezing when I needed to act. I appreciate so much that you read it and engaged with it so thoughtfully, as you do 🙏 and thanks for the artistic support!
Yes. That. I never thought I was an angry person, but I WAS SO ANGRY!!! And when I started working with a therapist, she'd ask me what I was feeling, and I'd tell her what I was thinking. I had no idea there was a difference for years. I think, I think, I think. I'm a big thinker, and that's appropriate for certain things but not for others. I learned in time. Come to the show this weekend, if you can. xo
Wow, another incredible distinction—to be asked what you're feeling and to say what you think. I'm a big thinker too, sometimes in circles haha I will check it out and see if I can! I love your storytellers.
You are so kind. And I know you are an expert at the language of visual imagery.
And I know I'm not alone in this, thank you for voicing that you understand. I don't walk around in a state of reliving childhood spankings. But sometimes, I follow the whispers of different versions of myself who remember things that I don't. Thank you for reading my story.
Thank you Robin. This is such a thoughtful and compassionate response, not unusual for you. Vulnerability continues to feel like whining, complaining, and gross immaturity. Sometimes, it amplifies shame. When I am brave enough to let the child's perspective rise to the surface, I'm sure you know how validating it can be to feel like that particular voice is being received.
I remember the little girl in these photos! I remember her impulsiveness, her frenetic activity, her enthusiasm…and her fear. But I have also witnessed the growth and the willingness to excavate the origins of some of the default responses that were ingrained in you (and in me too!), and to question whether they continue to serve you or were just maladaptive coping mechanisms that allowed you to survive some of the mixed messages we received as children growing up in that loving, spiritual home where showering love and inflicting pain and fear came from the same people. They were raised to believe that was part of how you show that you love your children, but I remember questioning that when raising my own kids. Was I actually teaching them that inflicting pain is another way to show love? Was I teaching them that it was okay to “hit”? I ended up choosing “time outs”. But I even question THAT now. Did it say to them that disobedience led to abandonment, to ostracization, being shut away from the reach of love and acceptance. My own daughter has adopted a different approach with her impulsive, energetic and enthusiastic 6 year old young son. She pulls him away from the scenario where his inappropriate behavior took place, takes him into a quiet, dimly lit room and sits with him on her lap, doing a period of deep breathing with him, helping him to regulate his emotions and return to calm. Then she discusses his behavior, why he acted the way he did, and helps him consider alternate options if he finds himself in that situation again. If an amends or apology is to be made, she helps encourage him to understand why, how his behavior impacted someone else, and how they felt. When that very different “time out” ends, she has taught him how to calm himself, to step away from his impulsive emotions, to empathize with the person on the receiving end of his behavior, how to make amends and hopefully reconcile with the person he hurt (usually his 10 year old sister), and she has empowered him to heal the relationship and embrace some vital life lessons! His mom is a psychiatric social worker, so her method is based in solid and sound research, but most of all, her response to his behavior is consistent with the image of a loving, instructive and understanding parent who he will always feel comfortable with and of whom he is not afraid. Seems a lot better than the leather sewing strap Nana used or the long, thick elastic tubing, the “Jack LaLane Glamour Stretcher”, that Daddy and Mommy used!
As always, your writing exquisitely describes the experience, both objectively and internally, of growing up during the rather generally approved “spanking generation” that believed that if you spared the rod, you would spoil the child. Little did we know until we reached the time where hindsight and interior work revealed that our bodies still held on to the silent fear and belief that what we DID reflected our worth as a human being, and that we were petrified of speaking up or making a wrong move. We never really doubted the love, but we were definitely afraid of disciplinary consequences. They were not so much instructive, as painful reminders of how we had fallen short. Did they teach us the lesson that was intended? Or just teach us to fear the people we loved and believed loved us? Did this kind of discipline teach us how to respond differently in the future, to take the responsibility to control our emotions and behavior, or did it teach us to hide our behavior because if we got away with something, there were no consequences? Very important subject, both for the sweet little girl in the pictures, and for us all!
This is so generous, Cherry. And wise. Your daughter's approach is brilliant, and if I had a time machine…I'd love to go back for a redo with my own kids. I appreciate l you acknowledging that the part of me I was writing about isn’t really who I am today although I honored her experience and her voice in this essay. Thank you for “remembering” with me.
I value the tension in the contrasts here, Laury. The two solo portraits. The fear-based behaviors and the love. All of it resisting a tidy summing up. Like your painting. Reading this reminds me of how immensely complex life is for a child. And how as adults we find healing through honest reflection.
Thank you for this, Robin. I read this comment more than once. Your take—the details, the tension in the contrasts. Thank you for noticing and for sharing it. I'm so grateful.
My pleasure, Laury. That family portrait is fascinating!
Such good people. Nana scared the heck out of me—all the aunts and uncles were sweet to me.
How to hold both things as true: a loving family that practiced corporal punishment on children. Fear + Pain = Control Over. Does discipline equal love? How confusing that must have been to you growing up, Laury. I am so sorry.
I do love, though, how honor the child within, and how your paintings reflect a path to healing her pain--and yours. Beautiful.
It is easy to rage, harder to reflect in such a thoughtful and open way. Thank you for this one- for leading me gently through some of my own experiences. 🖤
Thanks for not leaving me alone in the deep end.
Never. Never ever.
💙
Once ages ago a therapist asked me to bring in the very earliest photo I could find of me smiling. I've kept that photo on my bulletin board ever since. Your post reminds me of why this is important. Thank you.
I'm compelled to let the littlest part of me speak, the one who became locked in fear and struggled to find her way out. I remember her joy and her struggles. I forgot to add another picture of me smiling—circle back and take a look after a while. Thank you for listening, Bill.
Love love love the painting! And spanking to the point of leaving marks is actually illegal and considered child abuse. Sometimes it takes us a while to name abuse for what it is. I support you. BRAVA for this essay. Let me say that again: spanking or corporeal punishment that leaves marks (of any kind) is illegal and classified as child abuse.
Thank you, friend. And I deeply appreciate your support. Always.
I'm sorry you were spanked. I'm sorry it's what you learned. Crying is good, I'm quite a crier. But I don't think it's healthy, when you need to express angry feelings. We aren't taught that it's okay to feel angry, to object, to say no. I'm not Christian, and frankly all religion has different interpretations of itself. But did Jesus ever teach that hitting children is acceptable behavior? I somehow doubt it. I mean absolutely no disrespect. I was spanked once as a child. I wrote a story about it. My father was a very hesitant, nervous spanker (more like "patter" or "tapper"). What I remember most vividly is saying to myself at 4 years old, "whatever you do, don't laugh." And I didn't. It was definitely more upsetting to him than to me. My parents found other ways to discipline us that were much more powerful than hitting. I hated when I felt angry and cried instead of expressing what I was really feeling. I squelched my rage, and that did so much long term damage. And crying appropriate tears is very healing. I love your painting. xo
Exactly, Nan. The part about anger being masked by tears is so familiar to me now, but invisible for so many years. I just thought I didn't get angry. I have similar damage, the worst of which was freezing when I needed to act. I appreciate so much that you read it and engaged with it so thoughtfully, as you do 🙏 and thanks for the artistic support!
Yes. That. I never thought I was an angry person, but I WAS SO ANGRY!!! And when I started working with a therapist, she'd ask me what I was feeling, and I'd tell her what I was thinking. I had no idea there was a difference for years. I think, I think, I think. I'm a big thinker, and that's appropriate for certain things but not for others. I learned in time. Come to the show this weekend, if you can. xo
Wow, another incredible distinction—to be asked what you're feeling and to say what you think. I'm a big thinker too, sometimes in circles haha I will check it out and see if I can! I love your storytellers.
When are you going to be one of them? xo
I felt this Laury, literally. Well said, and sorry it had to be. Peace to you.
You are so kind. And I know you are an expert at the language of visual imagery.
And I know I'm not alone in this, thank you for voicing that you understand. I don't walk around in a state of reliving childhood spankings. But sometimes, I follow the whispers of different versions of myself who remember things that I don't. Thank you for reading my story.
Thank you Robin. This is such a thoughtful and compassionate response, not unusual for you. Vulnerability continues to feel like whining, complaining, and gross immaturity. Sometimes, it amplifies shame. When I am brave enough to let the child's perspective rise to the surface, I'm sure you know how validating it can be to feel like that particular voice is being received.
Thanks, Charlie. And peace to you.
I'm sorry for the pain you endured, Laury. The painting is beautiful, and I so appreciate your sharing what it says to you.
I remember being across my father's knee more than once. I still think it's so odd that he wouldn't have known how awful that was.
This story was beautifully rendered. Thank you for sharing it.