We were all young once; we all experienced it at one time or another. We made a mistake, or we found ourselves in a tough situation. Then, we received The Comment. It might have been from a parent, a teacher, or any other well-meaning adult. They were only trying to help, to educate us, to share their wisdom, and so they offered us some appropriate mussar or a lesson, some small takeaway. But their words missed the mark. Intellectually, we might have realized that their advice was correct, but it did not relate to our world, to our reality, we were not able to internalize or apply it at the time. And so, instead of feeling supported and encouraged, we only felt misunderstood.
As adults, how are we to approach matters differently? We want, we need, we are even enjoined to educate our children. But there is no point in sharing lessons that will not be accepted. We need to maintain a normal relationship with our children if we have any hope of influencing them. But normal relationships are not regularly punctuated by sage remarks about life’s great lessons, or by constantly pointing out ways to improve. Yet that is our viewpoint. We are the mature ones; we understand what is truly important. Is it not our job to teach and impart our perspective?
Let us take a moment and consider: What does your child want in your relationship? He does not want guidance, certainly not instruction. He simply longs for you to perceive him for what he is, to see the reality of his own life. To do this, you must bear in mind that you do not live in a different world than your child. You both inhabit the same space; you are engaged in the same activities. You simply experience it differently, from the vantage point of your maturity and experience. Therefore, you do not need to share with him ideas that are completely out of his immediate reach. You can communicate to him about his own life, his own struggles, but in a way that gives him a window to another way of perceiving these same occurrences.
Let us be clear. You are not trying to lower yourself to your child’s level, to enter his world completely. If you just talk to him about his interests and discuss all the trivial details of his activities, in the same way he schmoozes with his peers, then you reduce yourself to merely an ‘older friend’.
You are not his friend. You are the parent. Show him how you notice him, and you notice whatever he is involved with. But you perceive him with intelligence, with thoughtfulness, and you share your perspective, what these things mean to you. Then, the child will see that he matters, that he is important. Once he feels understood, he will be open to hearing your take on his life.
Here are a few practical examples of how this looks in practice.
When I was working in a certain Yeshiva, I once left the Yeshiva building, and encountered a bachur smoking a cigarette. He was looking over his shoulder furtively, and he was clearly nervous. As his Mashgiach, there were many things I could have said, all of them justified. But a lecture about the importance of guarding his health, or about bad habits, was pretty much guaranteed not to produce any meaningful results. Instead, I only asked him calmly, “Tell me, why are you so nervous?”
That was it. One simple sentence. Yet it had a profound effect on him, to the extent that he later told another adult that no one will ever understand him like I did. What did I do already? I did not attempt to share my experience or my wisdom with him. I merely related to where he found himself at the time. I perceived his world, his current life experience. But from my mature standpoint, I did not just see his actions, but also his attitude, his demeanor, and I inquired as to the cause of his feelings.
Another example. A bachur approached R’ Avrohom Solomon, the Mashgiach in the Chevron Yeshiva, because he was having difficulty learning with his chavrusa. They were just on different wavelengths and could not find common ground in learning. This is a fairly routine request, and the Mashgiach is responsible for setting up alternate arrangements, which R’ Avraham assured him he would do. However, during the conversation, the bachur expressed that “he could not bring himself to talk” to this other boy. The Mashgiach was upset by this remark, and briefly told him so. “We will find a new chavrusa for you, but it pains me to hear you speak this way. You should know to me, such an expression represents sinas chinam.”
He did not tell him why his attitude was wrong, and he was confident in his relationship that this would not come across as a criticism. He was just sharing his perspective. And indeed, the bachur related how he grew from the experience, because he was exposed to a new way of looking at things. Something that to him was just a personal preference could be viewed as a serious problem by another, greater person. His world had expanded, because he had glimpsed a world greater than his own. It was not a different world. It concerned the very same matters he was involved with, but related to them with more sensitivity, with a deeper appreciation for their chashivus.
One last example. R’ Ezriel Erlanger once informed his father-in-law, Rav Wolbe ztz”l, that he had purchased a car. The Mashgiach did not lecture him about right or wrong, nor did he extol the many possibilities of chesed that would now come his way. He merely commented: “You now obtained the key to a weapon of mass murder.” True, he was teaching him a lesson. But mainly, he shared with him the perspective of a much greater person, the awareness of the awesome responsibility that comes with this situation.
It is important to realize that it is not necessary to relate to our children by personally experiencing whatever they do. Rav Wolbe, for example, did not drive. But he was still able to contribute a meaningful comment on the topic. I, too, do not know how to drive. But I am mindful of this experience, and I notice that driving requires the ability to make instant decisions. This enabled me to advise a certain bachur to request a special exemption from his Yeshiva and obtain a driver’s license. Why? Because I knew that he was insecure and suffered from extreme indecisiveness. Since I understood what driving entails, I realized that this would force him to confront his nature and bring about serious change.
As long as we relate to the world in a deeper way, we will develop a rich understanding of life’s experiences. Relating to our children’s world in this conceptual way is more than enough.
Many of us find it difficult to implement this approach. This might be because we ourselves are not used to viewing the world this way! We tend to ascribe importance to the significant events that happen to us, and we are attracted to sophisticated ideas and observations. We must bear in mind that our children do not live in such a world. Their life is very simple, very practical, they are not consumed by lofty matters pertaining to avodas Hashem. If we want to relate to their world, and then have them relate to ours, we must accustom ourselves to noticing and relating to the everyday events around us. If we would only open ourselves to the possibility, we will realize that there are endless points of interest in the most mundane of circumstances.
Here is one personal example. There was a period when I traveled regularly on the same intercity bus. I began to notice the following behavior repeating itself, week after week. There were many passengers waiting to board the bus, far exceeding the number of seats on the bus. Yet everyone would take a seat for themselves. Only after every seat already contained one passenger would the people begin to sit next to someone else. Now, I began to think. It was patently obvious that everyone would end up with a seatmate. Yet social convention apparently dictated that to sit next to another person while there were still empty seats would be an invasion of personal space. Fascinating!
What happened here? Nothing important, really. But just by keeping my eyes open, I utilized an opportunity to gain an amazing insight into human nature. If we begin to view the world this way, we can then hope to do the same with our children’s lives. This will allow us to build a stronger relationship with them, and educate them in the process.
Rabbi Leuchter
