When I became I parent, I believed that because I was a nice, empathetic person, my child would also be born that way. I assumed my kindness would pass onto her through default. I had every reason to believe that. We have a loving family. We care about the earth. We try and leave every place and every person we meet better than it was before. What I discovered through my own parenting adventure is that some children are born with an innate sense of empathy while others have to be taught it.
My oldest daughter was an outgoing, tough little gal. When she started preschool, she quickly made friends and was adored by her teachers. She became best friends with two little boys whose parents I quickly connected with. I never would have labeled my child as “a bully” until another set of parents pointed it out to me.
I grew up as a free range kid out in the country. I had a dozen cousins to play with who were mostly all boys. My parents allowed us to handle conflict on our own. We hardly ever had our parents intervene when we were fighting. Sometimes it resulted in a physical confrontation but in the end we always managed to work it out. In this day and age, especially in a housing development, things are different. I had to learn this the hard way.
My daughter had little patience for kids that were annoying her. She would give them blunt warnings.
“Stop! Leave me alone! I don’t want to play that game! Please stop doing that!”
When they refused to listen, she would grow agitated and would push, shove or kick them away. Up until that point I never witnessed her hurt anyone and although I would correct her, I honestly wasn’t worried. In fact, I felt other parents needed to remind their children to respect my daughter’s personal space.
The first incident happened with a homeschooling family visiting the church where my daughter attended preschool. My daughter was playing in the sand and this boy kept insisting she chase him. He kept running around her and waving his hands in her face. She asked him to stop numerous times until finally she reacted. She stood up and hit him. He wasn’t fazed and he kept waving his hands in her face. She hit him harder and this time it resulted in him bawling to his parents.
As I worked with his family to sort the mess out, my daughter wasn’t the least bit sorry. She felt she was completely justified and she refused to apologize. The dad reminded me that physical violence is not allowed at school. Yep, he used the words, “physical violence!” I thought the entire incident was ridiculous.
The second and last incident that happened left me in a state of shock. It was essentially the same incident but with another family. My daughter kicked the kid and the mom flipped out at me. I listened to her bluntly rant and lecture me about my own child in front of all the other moms. I was embarrassed but I very calmly apologized and listened to her concerns. Her anger deflated when she realized I wasn’t fighting with her. My daughter apologized in a very insincere way and for the first time in my life, I looked at her differently.
As the school year came to a close, I noticed she never apologized. She never offered hugs or helped a friend when they were hurt. I watched a neighbor girl with special needs accidentally barrel into her and fall down. My daughter refused to help her.
She kept telling me. “It wasn’t my fault! I don’t need to apologize! I didn’t do anything!”
With the blinders off, I asked a retired school teacher for help. What she told me changed my outlook on parenting. She told me that some children have to be taught empathy and she gave me some great ideas. The summer before kindergarten I went to work, teaching by example. I did whatever I could, to show my daughter how kindness works. Together, we donated food to the food bank and Little Hungry Hearts. I let her pick out the items to donate and talked with her about why some families need help. I discussed bullying with her. We donated diapers and clothing to a local women’s shelter. We delivered meals to families from my mom’s group. Every act of kindness that was ingrained into my day to day life, I proudly pointed it out to her. I made it obvious in every way, why I was doing these things.
I set up small challenges for her. At the park, I would advise her to help another child if they fell down. Compliment another mom on how cute her baby is. Invite a child to play if they are all alone. When we would go to the store, we would try and find someone who we could help. We helped older people with reaching items on high shelves and we offered tissues or baby wipes to other families with kids. We held doors for people and always made a point to thank the cashier.
Step by step, we built a solid foundation of kindness and empathy. My daughter is now one of the kindest kids you will ever meet. She has a heart for every lost soul, whether human or animal. She takes initiative when she sees someone in need. She has rushed baby wipes out to a kid with a bloody nose in the Walmart parking lot, without asking me. She found a lost toddler in the library and stayed with her until I found the parents. She cries for other people who are hurting. She stands up for herself and for what is right. She fills my heart and soul with such pride.
Children live by example and sometimes you have to make that example a little more obvious.
