Thank you for this thoughtful article on something that has been a secret for so many of us for too long. It comes as a relief to see it all in the open.
Noticed Jeff's comment... I have heard the things you mention come out of my own mouth. Sometimes because the programing and spaces available to my children have been grossly underfunded with poorly trained staff. Sometimes because we have made it so easy to abuse disabled children that I have had to in order to keep my children with limited vocabulary, and thus unable to report, safe from harm. And yes, sometimes I have said these types of things because I simply cannot manage parenting, being a development and behavioral specialist, a foster care case worker and a decent loving warm mama and I was so terrified by the systems failing my child that I couldn't trust anyone. So stuck in between and rock and a hard horrible place and isolated and shamed for being so -- how could I figure that all out and be socially graceful too! I couldn't. And that is exactly why I find this article so important. It gives me hope that not doing it alone could also mean not blindly over to anyone who will take them because I haven't the energy to do any better.
Not doing it alone can mean what you need it to mean, even if it’s just knowing that someone else, behind their own closed doors, is feeling the same (reasonable) fears.
I think it's so important to acknowledge that anger was not allowed for those of us raised as girls. Well, feeling it was OK. Expressing it was not allowed! We were trained to cry when we were mad, less threatening to the men in our lives. When I was fifteen I was so frustrated that, when my father came home on Sundays he was treated like a king. We put on our party dresses and he sat in a big chair and we brought him food and coffee. Meanwhile my mother mowed the lawn repaired the television and the washing machine cooked all the meals wash all the dishes etc. etc. etc. He was only home on Sundays. He had a lot of other extracurricular activities going on in the city the rest of the time, and of course he "worked." Well, that particular Sunday, my mother was preparing food at he came down and sat in her chair. Symbolically it just made me so mad. Absolutely no support for her, not even much money. She went nine years one time without a new pair of shoes. Meanwhile in the city he was taking taxi cabs and living in hotels., I broke all the taboo in the family and said to him, shaking, "that's my mother's chair." he stood up to his full 6 ft. height and bellowed at me very loud, deep voice, "no Daughter of mine will talk back to me!" I ran upstairs sobbing and of course I never did it again. But I left home when I was 17.
I totally agree that better support is the answer. But I have to also point out that resistance to support often comes from the parent herself. “I alone will make all decisions about my child.” “Butt out!” “I object to teachers ‘indoctrinating’ my child!” “I can’t turn my child over to a babysitter, a family member, or daycare for any significant amount of time because I don’t trust them.” Etc. Yes, such attitudes are also societally taught, but a parent needs to recognize that and resist them, rather than lean in to them. Note how much resistance and aversion there was to the idea of “it takes a village” when that was being promoted. It wasn’t just because of the person who wrote the book…
Huh? I've never seen any objection to the concept of "It takes a village" except that it is a fantasy that has become a sarcastic meme. No village showed up and we're still waiting.
That said, I'll never suggest to parents that they resist their intuition around who can be alone with their kids. Not trusting certain people may be protective. There are many ways to support moms and gain their trust without overriding their intuition about danger.
As to objections, they were swift and persistent from the right:
“The theme of the book, at least as perceived from its title, aroused immediate opposition within the United States. A well known instance of this occurred during the 1996 presidential election when, during his acceptance speech at the Republican National Convention, Republican Party nominee Bob Dole said: "... with all due respect, I am here to tell you, it does not take a village to raise a child. It takes a family to raise a child."[8] Criticism of Clinton's notion would continue to be made by American conservatives such as Rush Limbaugh, Andrea Tantaros, and Jonah Goldberg through the next two decades.[9]”
A charitable reading of “it takes a village” is that everyone lives in a social milieu containing helpers, not that a group of people ought to show up at your door or something. And I was talking about people who trust *no one* with their child, such that they never reach out to take advantage of that “village”. You can’t be overly insular and then complain of a lack of support.
I wonder if people who rigidly refuse support have some underlying issue that needs to be cared for before they can begin to trust. Parents of atypical kids, in particular, often feel isolated, and experience shame. That's why I wanted to call this out here:
Shame causes a downward spiral of isolation.
There's an unfounded sense of responsibility (over-identification) for our kids' challenges that can undermine our self-trust. If we can't trust ourselves, how do we know who else we can trust?
If we feel like we're bad parents, that has to be healed first. If we think nobody has it as bad as we do, no one would possibly understand, that has to be reframed first. It takes time to rebuild trust and open up to community. Which is why I always want to start with parents, and bring the most generous interpretation to their resistance to change, resistance to support, and even resistance to feeling better.
We're just here surviving. Connection is the key to more, and I don't mind if parents complain to me all day of a lack of support. I just want them to feel heard, to know I won't judge them, to know they have a place here no matter what.
Yes, to all of this, and I’m so sorry you grew up with that abuse. These are such good points you make:
“If I do lose my temper, I apologize to him for losing my temper. But it is absolutely true that you don't get to that point without self-compassion. Raising children is hard. Raising a neurodiverse child brings its own set of challenges and the fact that you... I think most mothers experiencing this rage, like the kind of rage I've struggled with, is pretty normative - though it took a lot of therapy to get me to see that because I was so terrified of my own anger.”
Not all cultures have this - fear of our own anger. Men in our culture don’t. We’re socialized to feel shame for our anger, which drives us underground. Sure, there are people who feel no guilt or shame for being abusive. But that’s a rare breed. Again, I am so sorry that happened to you.
I know it feels like we “have so few other parents who can really relate to those struggles,” but there are so many of us. We’re everywhere. I was recently contacted by a parent who has been struggling for years with many aspects of raising a neurodivergent kid, including isolation, and THEY LIVE IN MY BUILDING! I happen to know there are at least 4 other families with kids who have diagnoses in our building. The isolation is cultural but also of our own making because we perpetuate it. You belong here. 🤗❤️🩹🤗
I don’t think my message is enough, but please know I’m thinking of you and acknowledging your willingness to be vulnerable. It’s healing. Thank you.
Thank you for this thoughtful article on something that has been a secret for so many of us for too long. It comes as a relief to see it all in the open.
Noticed Jeff's comment... I have heard the things you mention come out of my own mouth. Sometimes because the programing and spaces available to my children have been grossly underfunded with poorly trained staff. Sometimes because we have made it so easy to abuse disabled children that I have had to in order to keep my children with limited vocabulary, and thus unable to report, safe from harm. And yes, sometimes I have said these types of things because I simply cannot manage parenting, being a development and behavioral specialist, a foster care case worker and a decent loving warm mama and I was so terrified by the systems failing my child that I couldn't trust anyone. So stuck in between and rock and a hard horrible place and isolated and shamed for being so -- how could I figure that all out and be socially graceful too! I couldn't. And that is exactly why I find this article so important. It gives me hope that not doing it alone could also mean not blindly over to anyone who will take them because I haven't the energy to do any better.
Not doing it alone can mean what you need it to mean, even if it’s just knowing that someone else, behind their own closed doors, is feeling the same (reasonable) fears.
Yes! Exactly!
I think it's so important to acknowledge that anger was not allowed for those of us raised as girls. Well, feeling it was OK. Expressing it was not allowed! We were trained to cry when we were mad, less threatening to the men in our lives. When I was fifteen I was so frustrated that, when my father came home on Sundays he was treated like a king. We put on our party dresses and he sat in a big chair and we brought him food and coffee. Meanwhile my mother mowed the lawn repaired the television and the washing machine cooked all the meals wash all the dishes etc. etc. etc. He was only home on Sundays. He had a lot of other extracurricular activities going on in the city the rest of the time, and of course he "worked." Well, that particular Sunday, my mother was preparing food at he came down and sat in her chair. Symbolically it just made me so mad. Absolutely no support for her, not even much money. She went nine years one time without a new pair of shoes. Meanwhile in the city he was taking taxi cabs and living in hotels., I broke all the taboo in the family and said to him, shaking, "that's my mother's chair." he stood up to his full 6 ft. height and bellowed at me very loud, deep voice, "no Daughter of mine will talk back to me!" I ran upstairs sobbing and of course I never did it again. But I left home when I was 17.
Thank you for sharing your truth. It is still hard to be with anger, I don't think that has changed much.
I totally agree that better support is the answer. But I have to also point out that resistance to support often comes from the parent herself. “I alone will make all decisions about my child.” “Butt out!” “I object to teachers ‘indoctrinating’ my child!” “I can’t turn my child over to a babysitter, a family member, or daycare for any significant amount of time because I don’t trust them.” Etc. Yes, such attitudes are also societally taught, but a parent needs to recognize that and resist them, rather than lean in to them. Note how much resistance and aversion there was to the idea of “it takes a village” when that was being promoted. It wasn’t just because of the person who wrote the book…
Huh? I've never seen any objection to the concept of "It takes a village" except that it is a fantasy that has become a sarcastic meme. No village showed up and we're still waiting.
That said, I'll never suggest to parents that they resist their intuition around who can be alone with their kids. Not trusting certain people may be protective. There are many ways to support moms and gain their trust without overriding their intuition about danger.
As to objections, they were swift and persistent from the right:
“The theme of the book, at least as perceived from its title, aroused immediate opposition within the United States. A well known instance of this occurred during the 1996 presidential election when, during his acceptance speech at the Republican National Convention, Republican Party nominee Bob Dole said: "... with all due respect, I am here to tell you, it does not take a village to raise a child. It takes a family to raise a child."[8] Criticism of Clinton's notion would continue to be made by American conservatives such as Rush Limbaugh, Andrea Tantaros, and Jonah Goldberg through the next two decades.[9]”
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/It_Takes_a_Village
A charitable reading of “it takes a village” is that everyone lives in a social milieu containing helpers, not that a group of people ought to show up at your door or something. And I was talking about people who trust *no one* with their child, such that they never reach out to take advantage of that “village”. You can’t be overly insular and then complain of a lack of support.
I wonder if people who rigidly refuse support have some underlying issue that needs to be cared for before they can begin to trust. Parents of atypical kids, in particular, often feel isolated, and experience shame. That's why I wanted to call this out here:
Shame causes a downward spiral of isolation.
There's an unfounded sense of responsibility (over-identification) for our kids' challenges that can undermine our self-trust. If we can't trust ourselves, how do we know who else we can trust?
If we feel like we're bad parents, that has to be healed first. If we think nobody has it as bad as we do, no one would possibly understand, that has to be reframed first. It takes time to rebuild trust and open up to community. Which is why I always want to start with parents, and bring the most generous interpretation to their resistance to change, resistance to support, and even resistance to feeling better.
We're just here surviving. Connection is the key to more, and I don't mind if parents complain to me all day of a lack of support. I just want them to feel heard, to know I won't judge them, to know they have a place here no matter what.
Yes, to all of this, and I’m so sorry you grew up with that abuse. These are such good points you make:
“If I do lose my temper, I apologize to him for losing my temper. But it is absolutely true that you don't get to that point without self-compassion. Raising children is hard. Raising a neurodiverse child brings its own set of challenges and the fact that you... I think most mothers experiencing this rage, like the kind of rage I've struggled with, is pretty normative - though it took a lot of therapy to get me to see that because I was so terrified of my own anger.”
Not all cultures have this - fear of our own anger. Men in our culture don’t. We’re socialized to feel shame for our anger, which drives us underground. Sure, there are people who feel no guilt or shame for being abusive. But that’s a rare breed. Again, I am so sorry that happened to you.
I know it feels like we “have so few other parents who can really relate to those struggles,” but there are so many of us. We’re everywhere. I was recently contacted by a parent who has been struggling for years with many aspects of raising a neurodivergent kid, including isolation, and THEY LIVE IN MY BUILDING! I happen to know there are at least 4 other families with kids who have diagnoses in our building. The isolation is cultural but also of our own making because we perpetuate it. You belong here. 🤗❤️🩹🤗
I don’t think my message is enough, but please know I’m thinking of you and acknowledging your willingness to be vulnerable. It’s healing. Thank you.
Thank you for being here!