“I’m not going out there again and you can’t make me!” Jim’s six year-old son Tommy and he were standing in the penalty box of an indoor hockey rink in Calgary, Canada. It was the afternoon free-skate time, and several sets of parents were pulling or pushing their children around the rink, as pop music wafted over the PA system.

Jim was frustrated, and despairing. He had just circled the rink twice, holding his hand as Tommy slipped, stumbled and fell hard on his backside so many times it made Jim wince. This was Tommy’s first encounter with ice—Bambi may have looked cute, but as Jim watched his son’s legs fly out from under him over and over, it was excruciating. Tommy was not having fun, Jim was absolutely miserable, and the question on both their minds was, “Why bother, if he’s not enjoying it?”

Taking a Stand
Then, for a brief moment, the thinking portion of Jim’s mind peeked through the storm clouds of his emotions, and he thought to himself, “There’s still forty-five minutes left before closing. You have nothing to lose by persisting. If he still hates it, you’ll never have to come back again.”

“Tommy, you WILL go out there again, or I will send you time-out and you won’t have any snack. I give you my word.” His voice was hard-edged, and Tommy knew his dad meant business. Jim tried to appear firm, but inside, he was shaking like a leaf with self-doubt. Most parents would have relented at this point. Jim wondered to himself, “Am I just being mean, and forcing my will upon my poor son?”

“OK Dad, I’ll go, but just to the other side and back—and that’s it!” Tommy stepped gingerly back out onto the ice, fell to one knee, and got up. Suddenly the whining and drama from before seemed to drop away, and he struggled along the blue line, slipping many times. But when he touched the other side, he looked up at Jim and said, “Dad, I did it!” Jim promised him two Gummi Bears for every time he crossed the rink. Forty-five minutes later, he had twenty-two Gummi Bears under his belt, and asked his dad to let him skate alone because Jim was slowing him down. Tommy was absolutely beaming the first time he made it around the rink without falling.

Persistence Pays Off
Jim was elated. It was as if the sun had peeked through the clouds, and the storm that he thought would never end was now behind him. He had felt so wretched before as he watched his son’s misery, but now he was proud that his persistence had paid off! It was as if Jim and his son had crossed an “emotional river” together, but they didn’t give up when the current overwhelmed them mid-stream.

But the most valuable lesson Jim learned as a parent was to persist, even in the face of the extreme drama his child created. Tommy soon learned to skate, to ski, and even to relish practicing piano with Jim, as they prepared for his weekly lessons. Tommy now loves all three activities, which he would have abandoned long ago without Jim’s firm persistence.

Many parents tell me they would never force their child to do an activity he or she didn’t like. I am reminded of how much I hated practicing piano when I was young. My mother sold eggs to pay for lessons. She forced me to go into that cold laundry room of our farmhouse, where our old upright was, and bang out lonely classical melodies until I could watch “Happy Days” on TV. In college ten years later, I was tapped for an a cappella singing group that not only toured America, but over thirty-three countries around the world. I had the greatest adventures of my life because my mom forced me to practice piano, and music was once of the most cherished gifts she ever gave me.

You Train Them, Or Else They Train You
I acknowledge that my views may be counter-culture, but I don’t believe a child knows what’s best for him or her in the long run. I still laugh when I remember the words of a child psychologist who said, “Children are like dogs; you train them, or else they train you.”

So yes, if my daughter asks for extra chicken but then refuses to eat it, I’ll make her finish her plate. And if my son doesn’t say, “Please” when he asks for a snack, I won’t raise a finger. We’ve even turned stacking the dishwasher after dinner into a game show called, “Stump the Kids!” I pay them fabulous monopoly-money prizes if they can find a proper place to stack each plate or utensil.

I like to think my kids will learn that there are boundaries in life, and there are consequences for every choice we make (or choose not to make). I also like to think that as I stand up to my kids, I’m maturing in my ability to stick to principles, even in the face of pouty lips or an emotional firestorm (not bad training for life among grown-ups, either).

Leave a Reply