It's a Dad's Life Adam BrophyTwice I've picked up The Younger from creche recently with raw scrapes running down her face. This in itself concerns me a little, but not unduly.
At two, she already has a definite best mate, and as best mates are wont to do, they occasionally beat the heads off one another. It isn't the buddy that is performing the clawing however, it is another, slightly younger child who sometimes gets between them and works them both over with her talons. When The Younger is attacked, she retaliates but not necessarily at her attacker. The next innocent to wander into her path may get the brunt of her fury.
And so, the way of the world is instilled and reinforced. Rarely do we respond with appropriate emotion to the ones who have caused us to feel the way we do. Instead we move on, let things simmer for a while, marinate in a few bevies, then vent at whoever is nearest, whether they are involved or not. I don't know if this is a particularly cultural phenomenon, but we seem to have mastered the skill in a way most other nations can only aspire to. Where Americans welcome the opportunity "to express themselves emotionally" and the English do nothing of the sort, we aspire to the latter but may conclude with the former after a Guinness-inspired voyage of self-discovery. Like scenes in the creche, these also invariably end in tears.
I watch The Younger express her anger and I melt because it is obvious that there is an accompanying emotion that she feels when she hits out. She becomes inordinately upset when she is reprimanded, and even pre-empts repercussions with dramatic roars. After the last incident in the creche, she went missing. The staff hunted the building for her, only to find she had gone to ground under a table. They told me about this with great mirth when I arrived later that day, but it was obvious to me that The Younger was more hurt at being informed on than being in trouble.
Shame is a debilitating emotion for anyone, but crippling in a young child.
Shaw wrote in Man and Superman, "We live in an atmosphere of shame. We are ashamed of everything that is real about us . . . just as we are ashamed of our naked skins." The Younger gets angry and she lashes out. She has no reasoning prowess yet, just an ability to express.
What confuses her is the accompaniment of an overpowering sensation when she is confronted with what she has done. Yet, what she has done is normal, it is part of her "naked skin". This doubt about her instinctual behaviour will eventually help her conform in society and provide a compass for a moral code, but it terrifies me.
My fear is that she will be censored in her joy and in her freedom of expression. She will certainly learn that she cannot hit out, but in learning that lesson I hope she does not lessen her ability to take chances, to trust to her gut and do things because they make her feel good. I hope that shame does not colour her experience. For civilisation to flourish we must live within parameters, but memories are made from being open to what goes on around the fringes. If fear is the predominant factor, she may tend to live within a safe median rather than run the full spectrum and experience matching levels of joy and pain, what Pete Tong would call "the essential mix".
That mix is all there right now. In an hour she can move from anguish to undiluted joy, from confusion to certainty. She's a normal kid with a sunny disposition and a dangerous right hook.
abrophy@irish-times.ie
