Written by Love Isn’t Enough Guest Contributor Atinuke “Tinu” O. Driver; Originally published at Yes, We’re Together.
Me and Cheryl have a little process, a little system, called Beat A@#! Early. It wouldn’t ever really evolve into hitting. It’s more of a pinching thing, like, if you do get fed up to the point where you feel like you want to hit your child, instead of hitting him you can pinch him.”
“Ah, come on with that time-out. Time-out’s for white people. Get out of here with that.”
-Excerpts from the book Whatever it Takes by Paul Tough
A couple of years ago I almost got into a fight with a homeless man in Washington, DC and ever since my husband has tried (and failed) to keep me from inserting myself into other people’s business. I was in DC for work and on my way to the training location, I walked by a homeless man who asked me for change. I denied his request and he responded: “Fine, you black b$%@*&!”
Now most days I would just shrug it off, charging his belligerence to the influence of drugs, alcohol, or a mental disorder, but this was not one of those days. I turned around, proceeded to curse him out, and made it known: “I’m from P.G. County!” The only problem is that my cursing began to agitate him and he proceeded to chase after me. Thankfully all of this occurred in close proximity to my destination so I just ran inside of the building. But it does make me wonder why people reference their hometowns during altercations. I remember hearing Taylor from Real Housewives of Beverly Hills saying: “I’m about to take you out back and get all Oklahoma on your a#*%&#!” Wow. Oklahoma? Really?
Last year a friend gave me the book Stickin’ To, Watchin’ Over, and Gettin’ With: An African American Parent’s Guide to Discipline after a heated debate I had with my husband about my habit of inserting myself into other people’s business. I do blame my mother. To this day she carries out impeccable, covert operations on all of her children and anyone who steps within ten feet of her home. We can’t get anything past her. Although some might balk at the idea of a book focused on discipline within the context of a specific race and culture, just over the last week there have been three very high profile models of discipline that were all different and arguably tied to culture. First there was the “Uncle Beating His Wanna Be Thug Nephew Over Facebook” (complete with about five lashes from a belt that would have been better suited for holding up the uncle’s pants; interesting to note that Youtube recently removed the video for “shocking and disgusting content”). Then you have Joe Biden, Vice President of the United States of America, “Negotiating Release of Speech Script From Three-Year-Old Thief “ (my favorite part if when the Vice President snatches the speech back, ha!). And then the highly controversial and contested Wall Street Journal article by Amy Chua called “Why Chinese Mothers Are Superior.”
So, my latest run-in occurred one sunny, Boston afternoon as we walked home from an ice cream run at J.P. Licks. Our apartment building at the time had a number of shops and restaurants on the ground floor and on this particular day, the florist held a sidewalk sale to make room for new inventory. While passing by the wares lined up outside of the flower shop and along the sidewalk, I noticed some young boys running in and out of the stores, yelling, and causing a ruckus. I pretended to ignore them, but behind my sunglasses I was pulling a “Focker.” I kept my eye on the boys, two black males who looked like they somewhere between the ages of eleven and thirteen.
Then my jaw dropped as I watched one of the boys steal an item from the florist and start walking away–he didn’t pay and he had no intention to pay (it wasn’t one of those “let me run around the corner to the ATM real quick” type of situations, it was more like one of those “petty larceny” type of situations). I pulled down my shades, gave him the side-eye/now-you-know-you-wrong look and stated loud enough for everyone on the sidewalk, across the street, and in the neighborhood to hear: “UM, YOU MIGHT WANT TO PUT THAT BACK.” The young man froze like a deer in headlights, turned around, put the item back, gave me the evil eye and murmured something under his breath about “playing around.” I didn’t catch his response because my husband grabbed my arm and dragged me into our apartment building, scolding me for sticking my nose where it didn’t belong.
My Husband: “What were you thinking?! Now he know where you lives! (and I thought to myself “well, he wouldn’t know where I lived if you hadn’t dragged me in here!”) That kid could have a gun! He might come back looking for you! You shouldn’t get involved in other people’s business!”
Me: “Shoot! I ain’t scared of no little kid! I’m from P.G. County! (see, there it goes again; and how announcing that fact would stop a weapon, object, or person from hitting me, I do not know) I wish he would try something!
Now, rest assured, my husband’s reaction wasn’t motivated by a domineering sense of paternalism or some deep-seated fear of black men as perpetual perpetrators of violence. He just wanted to make sure I didn’t have a repeat of the scene in DC. Understanding something like how a person’s culture informs their approach to disciplining children can be hard to understand and accept as an outsider looking in. So in trying to explain my rationale for the florist incident to my husband, initially I struggled for words. I knew I couldn’t give trite and shallow defenses like: “Well, you don’t understand because white people don’t know how to discipline their kids, they just run around all crazy and wild,” or “The only children Americans think about are their own, they’d probably prefer just throwing those two black boys in jail,” because I knew neither of those statements to be completely true based on my own experiences.
But what I could explain to my husband was that as a black woman raised in a hybrid culture of middle-class Black America and upwardly-mobile Nigerian immigrant, I am acutely aware that my success as an adult is because of “the village” that raised me: their Stickin’ To– unconditional love and support (affection); Watchin’ Over — loving supervision (protection); and Gettin’ With — loving confrontation and accountability (correction). And as an adult, I think it is important for me to show that same care and concern for youngsters whose lives I have the opportunity to influence.
Funny – I grew up in southern Maryland (St. Mary’s County) – my only impression I have of PG County is that they’ve got a weird math cirriculum and their concert bands always looked richer at the all-state contests…
I did find that video of the dad whipping his son on YouTube pretty shocking – he’d get arrested for that here in Holland (rightly, I think).
My opinion – if you have to resort to violence to discipline your child, be it pinching, slapping or spanking, you’ve failed.
I agree with the communal child-rearing aspect of this piece, but I’m confused about its connection to physical punishment.
The pinching thing just makes me think of the (white) mother in Toni Morrisson’s Tar Baby who stuck pins in her son. (It doesn’t turn out well for her.) Granted, that’s defined as abuse rather than discipline, but the slope seems pretty slippery to me.
I have the same habit of interacting with other people’s kids (I complement kids and their parents as well as give kids a hard time when I see them acting out on the playground, or the sidewalk.) I’m white, but growing up we lived for a few years on a street with lots of kids and single moms. It was the village that you talked about, and I have a complex set of relationships with the many adults who helped raise me (and the kids I’ve helped to raise) and a tremendous debt of gratitude to each of them. I’m also a child care worker so I’m used to raising other people’s kids.
While I’m not from PG county, I’ve definitely interrupted young would-be shop-lifters at City Feed, and grabbed the hand of youngsters running into the street without a grown up. Some parents take offense and feel as though by talking to their kid (“Words like that hurt people’s feelings.” on the playground for instance) I’m judging them or their parenting. No one has ever said anything, but there’s a look that says “My child is my business.” but I really don’t agree with that.
@dersk
Not sure when you lived in MD, but I agree, in my time, the concert bands in PG County were pretty slammin’
Thanks so much for commenting and sharing your thoughts.
@Bionic Baby Mama
The primary connection is that in some families or communities, a child can expect to receive discipline not only from their parent(s)/legal guardian(s), but from any member of that community. Now that could play out in a variety of ways, but I do think it’s possible to distinguish abuse and physical discipline.
@Kendra
I’ve had similar feelings about addressing children when their parents are in close vicinity. Context is definitly important when deciding how the appropriateness in approaching someone else’s child. Just this morning I watched an adult who was apparently enamored by a young child try to touch the child’s hand and she yelled out “STOP!” Lol. Clearly the child recieved the “Don’t Talk to Strangers” talk. It was definitely a tad creepy.
I agree that the distinction is possible — I don’t believe the spankings I had as a child were abuse, for instance — but I find the idea that pinching — or any physical discipline — is something to be done “when you feel like you want to hit your child” really shady.
Despite feeling that my parents used spanking appropriately, I do not plan to use physical discipline with my child because I am afraid of it becoming something that happens “when I feel like hitting/what-have-you” rather than when it might be appropriate.
Part of what makes me uncomfortable with the epigraph (and similar arguments, which I’ve certainly heard many times) is not just the use of physical discipline, but the denigration of non-physical means. I had both spankings and “time out” as a child, and found time out plenty effective for most instances. (Spanking was reserved for very specific criteria: something I knew I was not allowed to do that would put me or another person in danger. I distinctly remember my mother saying “you know why this is happening,” and I did, which was part of what made it effective.) Yes, some parents raise undisciplined kids, but I don’t think time out per se is the culprit. For that matter, I certainly remember some very undisciplined kids who were spanked plenty.
Apologies if this is getting too far from your central point, which I agree with.
@Bionic Baby Mama
No apologies needed! I grew up in a family where argue and debate is our love language. And you bring up a good point about how physical discipline and non-physical discipline are often pitted against each other.
I agree that it does indeed take a “village to raise a child”. And I can imagine it being easier to do in close-knit communities where people share the same cultural/social values regarding child-rearing.
Unfortunately though it gets alot harder to do that in large diverse communities that are not close-knit or communities where POC’s are clearly a minority. I’ve heard for example of POC parents who are afraid to discipline their children in front of white parents because of the fear of being stereotyped as being “too harsh”. Even if the way they discipline is similar to whites, if they raise their voice too much they’re looked at disapprovingly by white parents (usually in public settings like local parks, museums,etc.) I believe in such settings where you don’t know too many people in your neighborhood who share your values and who you trust to be around your kids, I guess it helps to find a few friends you feel comfortable around (doesn’t have to be people of your same background) and form a “village” like that.
@RCHOUDH
Would you mind sharing what “POC” stands for?
Hey Tinu,
I think she means “people of color.” Or are you asking what she means by that term? In which case, I can’t answer.
haha, I love this! You should guest contribute for LIE more often.
I will be back for more “thoughtful” comments later, but thanks, great article
I meant “people of color”.
Reading this, I kept wondering if I could yell “I grew up in St. Mary’s County!” and have it mean anything. I also kept thinking “Let’s give it up for the tri-county area!”
I love that you stopped that kid from being a thief by using….words.
@Mom – don’t mess with me; I grew up next to tobacco farms AND F-14′s… (:
@RCHOUDH and @Julie
“Persons of color” – duh! That makes sense. Thank you, I was racking my brain there for a minute.
Your observations are really interesting. Over the course of my childhood I’ve actually found the village that raised me to be pretty large, diverse, and spanned a couple of continents. It didn’t REALLY hit me until our wedding day as I looked out into a room full of people who’d cared for me in such a myriad of ways and literally came from across the country and world to celebrate with us. And I’ve actually seen a number of non-black/brown parents who discipline in ways that would make my parents look like softies!
@Katie
Thanks so much. And thanks for reading.
@Momsomniac
Yes, you could, but you might hear crickets, lol.
Now, I don’t know if I actually had the power to stop him from being a thief, but I can only hope my message came across as a caring adult rather than someone just trying to embarass him in front of his friend and put all his business out on front street. Thanks.
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