Anyone who has attended one of my parenting workshops will be surprised to hear me touting
the word “no.” My usual mantra, after all, is “never say ‘no’ when you can say ‘yes.” I still
maintain this “golden rule” because I find that many parents say no automatically because
that’s the answer they would have gotten from their parents. Thus, it often comes without
really considering for the request. Unfortunately, the opposite is also often true: parents won’t
say “no” and don’t think about why the no was important in the first place. Believe it or not,
studies show that over-permissiveness is more detrimental to a child’s emotional health than
being too restrictive.
We can look at the word “no” in two different ways. In one way, it’s a means of control, kind of
a weapon in a classic power struggle -- and that’s when it needs to be guarded against. The other
way of perceiving this word is as a way of setting up boundaries and defining the safe from the
unsafe. It is from the latter meaning, that the magic arises.
For children, the whole world is new and enticing. The toddler is just as bewitched by the
electrical outlet as he is by the daisy. Both whet the appetite for exploration and discovery.
That’s where the parent comes in. It is the parental experience that provokes a firm and
resounding “NO” when that chubby little finger reaches out toward the outlet. It is that
same “NO” that lets that child know that there is someone watching out for their welfare, looking
to protect and guide them as they venture forth.
At some point in the last “X” number of years, the word “no” has, for many parents, become
a “four letter word” which they are reluctant to use because they feel it is wrong. The most
extreme form in which this was demonstrated was shared with me a number of years ago. A
teacher of two-year-olds, whom it had once been my delight to supervise, called me to ask for
some advice. She currently had in her class the daughter of a psychiatrist. This dad had instructed
the teaching staff that they were never to use the word “no” with his daughter. Somehow, he and
his wife had determined that hearing the word “no” would cause irreparable damage to the child,
and so it would be omitted from her experience. In the classroom the child was out of control.
She had no sense of boundaries, no understanding of others’ rights, and inappropriate behavior.
From a teacher’s perspective, this child was a disaster, in her classroom. From a psychologist’s
perspective, this child was screaming for help, flooded by impulses over which she had not
learned any self-control and fears of not being protected from the dangers of the world.
A not so extreme example occurred when a family came to my office in order to possibly enroll
their child in our two-year-old program. Having only two chairs in this very small space, the
parents sat down and put the little girl, standing, on the floor. As soon as we began to speak, the
child pointed at her mother and started screaming. The mom got up from the chair and let the
child sit in it. Then the little girl noticed a shelf above my desk with toys and books, put there to
help children stay amused during such a situation. The child pointed, using verbalizations, at a
particular toy, which the mother retrieved for her. Once the little girl had it, she threw it down on
the floor and signaled for another one. Once she had that, she repeated the process. She then got
off the chair she was on, turned to her father, pointed at him and started screaming. He promptly
got off his chair and let her sit down, with the mother then resuming her seat in the first chair.
The process with the toys/books resumed until the girl, once again, “threw” her mother off her
chair. At this point, the dad looked at me and with an embarrassed laugh, asked, “What are you
supposed to do?” I responded, “You start with the word “no”.
“No’s” and limitations are the verbal equivalent of swaddling. When we wrap a newborn in a
soft blanket, we provide not constriction, but security. As the baby acclimates to the openness
of the world outside the womb, we ease up on the wrapping and allow increasing freedom of
movement. So it is as the child grows, when, with maturity and self-guidance, previous “no’s”
turn into yeses and additional freedoms.
Another story comes to mind, this about a 12 year old boy. The young man had gone to the
movies with 3 classmates, 2 boys and a girl. The boy’s father had driven them and the girl’s
dad was supposed to drive them home. When the movie was over, the boy called his parents to
announce the boys were waiting for the girl’s dad to pick her up, but that the boys would then
walk home. The movie theater was on a major highway. The 3 boys each lived in a different
town. It was late and completely dark with many roads having no overhead lighting. The boy’s
parents said “absolutely not. You just stay where you are; daddy’s coming to get you. We’ll call
Lisa’s parents and tell her we’re doing the driving.”
When the young man walked into the house with his father, he was complaining bitterly,
declaring “you never let me grow up; you treat me like a baby, etc.” What happened here? This
boy did not want to walk home with his friends. If he did, he wouldn’t have called his parents in
advance; he just would have shown up. He called his parents because he knew, he trusted, they
would say “no.” Thus, he saved face in front of his friends, and he relied on what he knew about
his parents -- they would not allow him to put himself in harm’s way.
The “no’s” in a child’s life help him/her acquire the understanding of right from wrong, of
appropriate from inappropriate, and of the permitted from the forbidden. It also helps children
believe that they are loved, cared about, and protected, from the unknown and the dangerous.
When used sparingly and in a positive way, they become the shelter under which a child is
allowed to blossom into a confident adult.
The Torah tells us we have an obligation to let another person know when he or she is doing
something wrong. There is also a Yiddish saying, “G-d couldn't be everywhere, so he created
mothers” (and fathers!). G-d, in dealing with His children, allowed for questions, tantrums,
rebellion, pleas and negotiations. He sometimes said “no” and sometimes capitulated, but He
was always in charge - the Voice of Authority and The Final Word. I can’t think of a better role
model.
Nancy Zwiebach