Pathways to Peace

Many cultures around the world have unique ways of honoring their children. In Bali, for example, there is the celebration known as Nyambutan, a ceremony when a baby is first allowed to touch the ground. Until a few months of age, babies are believed to still be part of the spirit world, and are carried everywhere. The Navajo people have chidelglo, a special celebration of a baby's first laugh; the party is put on by whomever first elicited the laughter, which is revered as a special form of prayer. The Boran people of Kenya embody the "takes a village" theme, as they gather for a two day long special naming and welcoming event known as the Jilla.

In any culture, the blessings of a young baby sometimes get lost in the difficulties of endless caretaking. The fatigue, frustration and possibly, lack of experience of caretakers sometimes slip over into abusive behavior, even when the initial bonding connection is well established.

Recently, touring Disneyland at the end of a long day, I was with my two daughters, then aged 8 and 12, a cousin and her boyfriend. It was hot and sticky in that East Coast kind of way, and though everyone was exhausted we decided to stay for the fireworks finale. A few feet in front of us was another family with much younger children, who appeared to be in a more advanced stage of exhausted-clinging-crying-why-are-we-still-here?-dom. Both parents were yelling at the two children, and finally the father whacked the toddler, who fell to the ground, upping the level of crying to a new decibel range before climbing Dad's leg as the fireworks begin and the violence simmered. My cousin's girlfriend wanted to punch the Dad's lights out, and my children were paying more attention to this spectacle than to the cascade of brilliant colors overhead. What to do?

Sometimes such anger flows in public places. Many of us have witnessed a child being hit, grabbed, or spoken to harshly in a park, restaurant or grocery store. Perhaps we felt our own anger rise in witnessing such treatment. Maybe we slipped into negatively judging that caregiver in our minds, smugly reassuring ourselves that we would never do that. If there was an urge to intervene, what prevented us from becoming involved? I have personally responded to many of these situations, so that it seems second nature to me now. Here are my suggested ABC's of action in such situations:

B. Blend with the difficulty the caretaker is having. Somehow, in a small way, acknowledge their suffering and why they may not be at their personal best in that moment. "I remember when my children (nieces, nephews, cousins, friend's children) were that age; it was so hard to get anything done."

C. Create the possibility of change. Share a coping strategy that you have used successfully. "What I learned to do was bring a few different toys with me so I could take out a new one for my girls to play with every other aisle in the market." "You know the junk food kids always want at the end of a shopping trip? Well, I'd buy something at the beginning so they could be eating it while shopping."

D. Do something concrete that might be helpful. "Would it be okay if my girls and I walked along with you and entertained the baby for a bit while you shop?" "Would you like us to get some of the things on your list?" Most of the time people don't accept your offer, but by then the energy has changed; they have calmed down and see you as an ally in the difficult job of parenting.

E. Engage the child in a positive fashion. Depending on the situation, the age of the child, and how the caretaker has reacted, you may be a "fair witness" to the child. You can be someone who acknowledges that what happened isn't right, isn't fair, isn't their fault, and doesn't always have to be like this. (Even if they were the trigger, a child is not responsible for a parent's abusive behavior.) At eye with the child level you might say something like, "All of us as grown-ups sometimes get angry and don't act right. It's not your fault. Please forgive us when this happens. I hope things will be better now."

I used some of these same principles in handling the Disneyland situation. In doing so, I modeled for my children an important lesson about standing up for what one believes, in a way that honors the basic philosophy of primum non nocere. Above all else, in your attempts to help, try to do no harm.