Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

 

דִּבְרֵי חֲכָמִים, בְּנַחַת נִשְׁמָעִים

 

The words of the wise are more likely to be heeded when spoken softly.  Koheles, 9:17

 

I explained this to Tikva and Doron. 

 

Tikva explained to me that the only time Doron listens to her is when she yells, and she knows that their children yell a lot because she does, but she doesn’t know how else to get her husband to pay attention to what she’s saying.

 

What do you think about that, Doron?

It’s true, I don’t realize that she’s talking to me until she yells and I turn around to see what’s going on and then I realize that she was trying to tell me something, or ask me something.   And she’s right.  The kids are starting to yell just like she does.   So we tell them not to yell, but they don’t listen.

You softly remind them not to yell?

Not always so softly.   I know it’s ludicrous for us to yell in front of our children, and sometimes at them, and then tell them, “We do not yell in this house!”  I know we’re not doing the right thing but we just don’t know what else to do.

 

At this point I realized that my teaching them the words of Shlomo HaMelech in Koheles was both unnecessary and unhelpful.  It was unnecessary because they already knew that speaking softly to their children and to each other was the appropriate thing to do.  It was unhelpful because they aren’t going to be able to do it any better now that they had heard it from me than they had been doing up until now.

 

What I had been doing up until now was speaking to them in broad concepts and generalities.  It was time to get specific.

 

Doron, you said that you don’t realize that Tikva is talking to you until she yells and you turn around to see what’s going on and then you realize that she was trying to tell you something, or ask you something.

Yes, that’s what tends to happen.

Tikva, what do you think about that?

Doron gets very absorbed in whatever he’s doing.   If I call to him in a normal voice, he really doesn’t seem to hear me.  I guess I sound annoyed when I yell to him because I wish he could be conscious of what’s going on around him so I wouldn’t have to yell.

She’s told me that before, Rabbi Ackerman.  And I just realized it’s the same kind of thing when we’re sleeping.  We’ll wake up in the morning and she’ll say, “That was some thunderstorm last night!”  And I’ll say, “What thunderstorm?  I didn’t hear anything.”   I am a very focused person, asleep and awake; it’s hard to distract me.  She’s just the opposite.  She’ll hear a child crying from the other end of the house even while she’s listening to two other kids trying to convince her that the other one is at fault for their latest fight.

So you, Doron, never yell at Tikva to get her attention because you don’t need to.   You, Tikva, yell at Doron because that’s how you get his attention.  And you both don’t like the children yelling, and you think they yell because you do.  Tell me, Tikva, how else could you possibly get Doron’s attention?

I’m not sure.  I can call his name in a normal voice ten times and he won’t respond.  He only responds when I yell.

I don’t hear you until you yell; I’m not deliberately ignoring you.

I wasn’t accusing you of ignoring me deliberately.  I still don’t know what else to do to get your attention.

 

I decided to give it one more try before I told them what I was seeing that they hadn’t yet seen.   Did you notice it?   Picture the room and the people in it.  Don’t just hear it in your mind, see it.

 

Let me say this again, Doron.  You said that you don’t realize that Tikva is talking to you until she yells and you turn around to see what’s going on and then you realize that she was trying to tell you something, or ask you something.  What do the two of you think about that?

 

They thought that Tikva needed to yell.  They agreed that her calling his name in a normal voice was not going to register; he’s too focused on whatever else he’s doing.   They would have to explain to their children why it’s okay for Tikva to yell to Doron, even though she sounds like she’s yelling at Doron, which she is because she finds his inability to notice her calling to him very frustrating.   And that it’s still not okay for the children to yell.

 

I thought differently.   I thought about Doron’s description of the situation, particularly the following words:  I turn around to see what’s going on and then I realize that she was trying to tell me something.

 

I didn’t say a word.   Doron and Tikva were looking at each other.   I stood up and walked toward them.   When I was about 2 feet from the sofa on which they were sitting, they both looked at me.   I silently nodded my head, turned around, and went back to my seat across the room.  Doron spoke.

 

Why did you do that, what did you mean by that, Rabbi Ackerman?

You were focused on Tikva, and I wanted to get your attention, Doron.  Apparently, I did.

 

Lo hamedrash ha’ikar, elah ha’maaseh.   Actions speak louder than words.  Gentle actions speak softly, and are more likely to be heeded.

 

 

Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman is a Licensed Mental Health Counselor with specialties in marriage, relationships, and parenting.  He works with parents and educators, and conducts parenting seminars for shuls and organizations.  He can be reached at 718-344-6