Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman

March 24th, 2013

Last week I told you a story. It took place on a Friday night, and was repeated on many Friday nights. Here’s the part where dad got involved: Shloime started to sing Shalom Aleichem in a silly voice and Danny told him to stop, but he didn’t, so Danny pushed him and he fell back into the table, knocking over the Kiddush cup that had just been filled with wine. Dad said, “Danny, how many times have I told you not to do that? Why did you do it again?”
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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

March 7th, 2013

Parents spend a lot of time preparing their home for Pesach. I hope you will also spend time preparing your children for Pesach. How do you pique your child’s interest in a discussion about Pesach?
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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman

February 27th, 2013

Cheer up! Stop being so negative. It isn’t that bad. Don’t mope. Or as the songs suggest: Grey skies are gonna clear up. Put on a happy face. Pack up your troubles in your old kit-bag, and smile, smile, smile. Okay, now that you’re in a good mood, let’s do some parenting. What? You’re not in a good mood? But I told you to be, and I even brought proof from corny old songs that it’s a good idea to smile and be happy!
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Author: Rabbi Ackerman

February 21st, 2013

Rabbi Yochanan said: Providing sustenance is more difficult than geulah, for of geulah it is written, “the angel who has redeemed me” whereas of sustenance it is written, “The L-rd who has sustained me.” (Pesachim 118a)
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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

February 7th, 2013

Here is an example of a solution that some parents tell their children:

The boys teased you? Ignore them.

If the problem is “teasing,” they assume that the solution is to ignore it.

I’m not assuming it, I know it. When I was a kid and I got teased, I was told to
ignore it, so I did, and after awhile they stopped teasing me.

The first Mishna in Avos teaches hevu m’sunim ba’din, be deliberate in judgment.
If I didn’t know better, I would say to myself, “I am not a dayan so this doesn’t
apply to me,” and skip to the next Mishna.

But I do know better. I know that the Mishna speaks to everyone. It addresses the
universal truth that ever since Adam and Chava ate from the aitz ha-daas tov v’rah
we judge everything. We interpret and evaluate every sight, every sound, every
tactile, olfactory, and gustatory experience.

The very first Mishna in Avos urges us to be m’sunim ba’din, to make our
evaluations and judgments more slowly, to deliberate before deciding. As parents,
we help our children when we show them how to deliberate and think things
through.

Think what through? Do you think it’s enough to consider the possible solutions,
the p’sak? The Mishna doesn’t say hevu m’sunim b’psak. That would mean, think
before answering, think before deciding what to do.

The Mishna is telling us more than that. M’sunim ba’din means to slow down
long enough to understand the situation, the problem, or the question, before
attempting to address it, before thinking about solutions at all.

Here’s an apt description of this distinction: “… make sense of the situation. Often
this sense making entails not so much problem solving as problem finding.” (Shop
Class as Soulcraft, Matthew B. Crawford, page 35, italics in original)

Take the time to think about what’s really bothering you, what’s the problem,
before you try to decide how to solve it.

When something is bothering your child and you want to help him, you have an
additional concern. You need to beware of the “been there, done that” fallacy.

It’s a fallacy because no matter what’s bothering your child, you haven’t been there
and done that.

Another Mishna in Avos says ‘al ta’din es chavercha ad sh’tagea l’mkomo. The
word es sometimes means “with.” Taken that way, this Mishna teaches us not to
join with someone in addressing their concern until we understand their place, their
situation as they perceive it. No matter how well we know their objective situation,
we cannot know their subjective situation until we listen to their story.

When you listen, bear in mind another Mishna in Avos, al t’hi dan yechidi. The Ben
Ish Chai teaches that this means to avoid making assumptions and running with
them. We interpret everything we hear or see. That is our dan yechidi, our first
impression. When your child is telling you the story of what happened to him, be
careful not to jump to conclusions.

If he’s telling me the story of what happened to him, how could it be that I don’t
know what he means, that I could jump to some incorrect conclusion?

Here’s how. Let’s say your child told you that some boys in his class teased him.
The assumption you could make is that the boys said something to your son that
made him feel bad, and had they not teased him, he wouldn’t feel bad. That
assumption may be incorrect. If you were to run with that assumption, you might
lecture your son like this:

“Some children make themselves feel important by saying unkind things to other
children. They don’t really mean what they’re saying; they’re just trying to get
under your skin. They think it’s funny to make somebody feel bad, and they think
they‘re smart cause they figured out how to make you upset. If you just ignore
them they’ll see that it doesn’t work and they’ll stop.”

What’s wrong with telling him that? It worked for me when I got teased as a kid.

I asked this dad what he remembered being teased about.

The boys used to tease me because I brought a lunch box to school instead of a
brown bag. My father said to ignore them, so I did, and they stopped talking about
it.

And what are your son’s classmates teasing him about?

I don’t know. He just said that kids in his class tease him, so I told him to ignore
them because that worked for me.

This parent decided that the rule for teasing is ignore. He’s heard this case before.
He doesn’t need to deliberate, he’s got the solution.

But his solution didn’t solve anything for his son.

I suggested that he invite his child to describe and think through the problem, and
then, if he wants to, explore solutions.

If he wants to? Why would he tell me a problem if he doesn’t want me to tell him
the solution?

Because he wants you to help him to understand the problem. He wants you
to help him think, not think for him. Often, when a child thinks about what’s
bothering him, he can decide how to solve it, or how to leave it alone and live with
it for awhile.

I sat down with my son, just the two of us, after the Friday night seudah. I asked
him if the boys had stopped teasing him. He mumbled something like, “yeah,
somewhat.” I asked him what they were teasing him about. He said it was about
his weight. He said that even when they don’t tease him, it bothers him that he is
overweight.

This dad assumed that his m’kom of being teased, his subjective situation, matched
his son’s. When he let go of this assumption and asked more questions he learned
that the m’komos were not at all similar. Dad was okay with having a lunch box
instead of a brown bag, and his classmates tired of making comments about it. His
son wasn’t okay with his weight, whether his classmates commented on it or not.

Subsequently, this dad told me something very interesting.

He said that when he had given his son a solution, when he had told him to ignore
the boys who teased him, his son had said, “okay, dad,” and he looked unhappy.
When, two weeks later, he listened to his son’s story and then asked his son what
he wished he could do, he son had said, “I’m not sure, but I’m going to think about
it,” and there was a small, hopeful smile on his face.

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 718-344-6575.
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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

January 30th, 2013

Do you home school your children?

Of course you do. Every parent does.

Some parents Home School their children. They teach their children at home
instead of sending them to school.

But in every home, every parent teaches their children much of what they learn.

You teach your children patience, generosity, integrity, tolerance, acceptance,
compassion, empathy, and all of the other wonderful middos you exhibit. You’re an
incredible middos machine, all day, every day.

Sounds great, doesn’t it? It is great. It’s what you hope to accomplish for yourself
as a person and for your child to learn from you. Like most great accomplishments,
it’s difficult to achieve and even harder to sustain.

How great an accomplishment are good Middos? Middos are the precursor and the
pre-requisite to education. We learn that from Yaakov Aveinu.

And he (Yaakov Aveinu) sent Yehuda ahead “l’horos l’fanav.” Braishis 46:28

L’horos l’fanav: to set up for him a house of study from which would come
instruction. (Rashi, ibid)

Yaakov sent Yehuda ahead to set up a yeshiva.

We need to think about this. He should have sent Yissachar who represents the
koach of Torah as it says: Of the children of Yissochor, men with understanding of
the times, to know what Yisroel should do… (Divrei HaYomim I 12:33)

Or [he should have sent] Levi for we find later that Yaakov Aveinu A”H set him
apart and appointed him to be the leader and placed him into the yeshiva to teach
the ways of Hashem, as the Rambam wrote (raish hilchos avodas kochavim).

So why did he specifically send Yehuda?

Because we find in Yehuda the foundation of middos tovos as seen from the episode
with Tamar when he acknowledged the truth and said “tzadkah mi-meni” even
though this was a great shame for him, as the midrashim teach. To establish a
bais Talmud is only possible by way of middos tovos. They are the preparation and
condition for our holy Torah. Without middos, Torah cannot be acquired. This is

why Yaakov Aveinu sent Yehudah. (Mevaser Tov on Midos and Mitzvos Bain Adam
l’Chaveiro, maamar sheini page 58)

You can choose to Home School your children in Torah subjects, secular subjects,
both, or neither.

You do home school them in middos. It’s your choice which middos you model.
The middos you model the most consistently are the middos your children will
learn. Middos tovos are the preparation and precursor, the pre-requisite condition
for the Torah you hope they will learn.

Very nice thought, but you don’t know the terrible things my child says to me. I’m
supposed to let him get away with it?

Definitely not. That would be irresponsible. You are responsible to teach your
child what you expect of him and discipline him effectively when he does something
wrong.

You’re also responsible for how you go about it. You know the expression, “two
wrongs don’t make a right.” Saying something nasty or yelling angrily at a child
because he wronged you is a second wrong, and it doesn’t make it all right. Expect
more from your child, and expect better from yourself.

“Treat all people with equal respect and sensitivity. React calmly even to someone
who has just insulted you maliciously, and remain calm even when an irritating
nuisance pesters you incessantly.

“All people includes even those whom one usually takes for granted – one’s
parents, spouse, and children. Be as calm and courteous to your immediate family
as you are to your superior or most important client.

“Never lose your temper – even when you are exhausted, drained, disappointed,
aggravated, shocked, confused, terrified. Even when the whole world seems to
be crashing down on your head – keep calm. React slowly and deliberately – and
speak gently.” (Rav Avrohom Chaim Feuer on Iggeres HaRamban/A Letter for the
Ages, Artscroll Mesorah edition, pg 27-28, italics in original)

The middah that enables us to remain calm and speak gently is savlanus.

What is savlanus? It is not patience. It is tolerance. It means putting up with
someone or something unpleasant, inappropriate, or unfair. Rav Woble, z’tl,
addresses this at length in Alui Shur, II, shaar sheni , chapter 7, a chapter entitled
“Anger or Savlanus.” Rav Wolbe quotes the Orchos Chaim of the Rosh, “Keep
away from frivolity and anger,” and adds, “everyone who becomes angry knows
this of himself: when he is angry, his heart is not with him; it is as if he changes

into another person, a stranger, not himself.”

Rav Wolbe explains that you cannot express a measured response when you’re
angry. The basis for responding appropriately, effectively disciplining your child, is
savlanus. He spends the rest of the chapter, nine sections, on how to achieve and
maintain savlanus.

For most of us, savlanus can be difficult. You don’t just decide to be sovail instead
of getting angry.

In the first of these vaadim, Rav Wolbe spells out the methodology for acquiring
savlanus.

“We shall set aside about 15 minutes per day during which we will work at be sovail
everything we see and hear, even if we disagree with or are bothered by it. We
will not lose our menuchas hanefesh at all. If a situation arises to which we need
or are obligated to respond, we’ll respond with carefully measured words with no
emotional stress. We will work on this when we are spending time with friends,
learning or over a meal.” Rav Wolbe suggests practicing this way for a few weeks
before trying to build your savlanus at different times of the day with different
friends in various settings.

A few weeks!? Yes. Rav Wolbe in vaad shlishi spells out the importance of
cultivating savlanus with ourselves, having realistic expectations for ourselves. The
Vilna Gaon (on Mishlei 19:3) writes, “Each person has to proceed according to his
level and not jump.” Rav Wolbe adds, “Savlanus is not only for b’di-avad [after
the fact], not just to prevent despair after we have fallen short. Savlanus requires
us to exercise forethought, a calm consideration of what to realistically expect of
ourselves.”

And what to expect of your child. In vaad revi’i Rav Wolbe writes:

“So much savlanus is necessary in chinuch habanim! Only with boundless savlanus
can you come to insightful responses and guidance built on understanding the child
and his nature, to fulfill, chanoch l’naar al pi darko.

“Work on savlanus towards your family. Set a fixed time to strengthen savlanus.
It should particularly be a time of frequent frustration, such as in the morning when
the children need to get to school or at bedtime… and Erev Shabbos.”

Your home is a school. Remember that the s’vivah, the ambience and
temperament you create in your home, teaches your children middos and enables
them to learn everything else.

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 718-344-6575.
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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

January 25th, 2013

Most children, most of the time, tell the truth about their thoughts and their feelings.  They have no intention of lying or hiding anything from us.  
Yet they sometimes give us incomplete information about what they are feeling.  It’s the same thing we do to them, and to each other.  We reveal only some of our feelings, we tell a half-truth rather than disclosing the feelings that put us at risk of becoming vulner …
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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

January 16th, 2013

How often do you believe what your children say to you? How often do you take what they say at face value? The pasuk says b’tzedek tishpot amisecha, and the Mishna tells us he’vai dan es kal ha-adam l’kaf zchus.   Clearly, we are supposed to judge everyone, including our children, favorably.  We should not suspect our children of lying or distorting or withholding information in order to trick us or manipulate us …
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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

January 11th, 2013

Do you remember when your child was a baby?  You spent the first years of his life eagerly looking forward to his learning to walk and talk.  
How long did it take until you were telling him to sit down and be quiet?
For most children walking and talking, sooner or later, come naturally.  For most children, and adults, sitting quietly is harder to master.
Sitting quietly, silently waiting while nothing is being said requires mastery and conscious self-discipline.  It is difficult.  It is also invaluable.
Rav Wolbe, z’l, in Alei Shur, (Volume 2, page 35) explains it this way:
The expertise of a person in this world is to make himself as though he were mute.  The expertise is specifically not to be a chatterer.  This is what we must learn: from the time that a child learns how to speak, he chatters about whatever comes into his mind.  To be silent requires study, for silence is an important skill and only through his silence do we recognize a person as wise.
Rav Wolbe quotes the Rambam: the fence that protects wisdom is silence, therefore do not hasten to answer and do not speak too much.  (Daos, 2:5)  Rav Wolbe adds: It is fascinating how “ha’dibur ha’emesi” flows only from silence.
What is ha’dibur ha’emesi?  What does that expression mean?  Rav Wolbe didn’t write, divrei emes, “words of truth flow only from silence.”  I don’t think Rav Wolbe is referring to being truthful.  I think ha’dibur ha’emesi means “words that bring truth, words that bring accuracy, clarity, and understanding.”   Silence brings clarity and accuracy.  The converse may be discerned from the Mishna: kol ha’marbeh d’varim maivi chait, “those who speak too much cause chait.” (Avos 1:17)
The Medrash Koheles Rabbah (7:20) tells us that the word chait does not always mean “sin.”  Sometimes it means inaccuracy, failure.  With that in mind, we see that the Mishna in Avos is teaching us that saying too much can cause folly and failure.   The Rambam and Rav Wolbe teach us the converse: silence is the source of wisdom and success.
Submarines run silent and run deep.  
Parents need to slow down, stop running, in order to be silent.  When you do, your conversations and relationships with your children will go deeper.  Silence allows you to think, and your silence invites your child to slow down and think, to go deeper into the depths of her thoughts and feelings and desires.
“A word is worth a selah, silence is worth two.” Megilah 18a
The Aruch on that gemara records this teaching as follows: Rabbi Yoshia said, “The best medicine is silence.”  Rabbi Oshia said, “A word is worth a selah, silence is golden.” (literally: like a precious stone)
Why is silence so precious?  “The reason is because it is painful to remain silent, and l’fum tzaara, agra, the more the discomfort, the greater the reward.”  [Rav Avraham Abba Hertzel of Pressburg, Sifsei Chachamim on Megilah 18a]
In Ben Yehoyada, Rav Yosef Chaim (the Ben Ish Chai) writes that the word dibur alludes to the daled boros, the four chambers of our deepest thoughts: how we think about ourselves in the past; how we imagine ourselves in the future; how we think of others in our past; and how we imagine others in our future.  Our words express how we think about what we have done, and how we think about what others have done for us and to us.  Our words also convey what we wish for ourselves, and what we hope for, or fear, from others.  
Our silence allows us think more deeply, to more completely gather and organize our thoughts before we form our words.  Some call this silent time hisbodadus, contemplation, or meditation.  It happens when we give ourselves some time and find a place for silence.  It only happens for your child when you create that time and place for him.
Seventeen year old Michoel seemed quieter than usual, almost withdrawn.  His parents were concerned about him.  His mother asked him if something had happened, he said no.  His father asked him what was bothering him, he said nothing is, he’s fine.  But they were sure he wasn’t fine.  Michoel wasn’t disrespectful, he wasn’t angry, he wasn’t uncooperative.  But he wasn’t himself.  His father asked him if he’d be willing to meet with me.  Michoel said okay.  He came by himself.   Michoel sat down and looked towards me, then he looked at the floor.  I said hello; he said hello back to me.  I asked him what he wanted to talk with me about.  We sat quietly, silently, for a long time.  As we sat together in silence, I thought about a place in Washington State that I’d read about.  Here’s what I had read:
One Square Inch of Silence is the quietest place in the United States.  Located in the Hoh Rain Forest at Olympic National Park, it is 3.2 miles from the Visitor’s Center above Mt. Tom Creek Meadows on the Hoh River Trail. Hiking time from the parking lot at the Visitor’s Center to the site is approximately two hours along a gentle path lined by ancient trees and ferns.
I was thinking that Michoel had traveled to me, and I had the opportunity to give him as many square inches of silence as he needed to figure out what he wanted to say and gather the courage to say it.  It took him, literally, more than twenty minutes.  It was hard for me to be silent that long.  It turned out to be well worth it for Michoel, and for me.
Say as much as you need to say to your child, and say it as clearly and concisely as you can.  Then work even harder; be silent, let her think and gather the courage to tell you ha’dibur ha’emesi, what is deeply important and perhaps painful for her.  Give her the opportunity to go deeper into her thoughts, and choose how to share them with you.  You will make it more likely that she will.
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 718-344-6575.


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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

December 28th, 2012

When I was in elementary school, we knew that somebody being faster than a
speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive and able to leap tall buildings in a
single bound was science fiction. What passed for science fact was even stranger:
you could survive an atomic bomb attack by standing in the school corridor, up
against a locker with your hands behind your head. That’s why we practiced doing
it in during air raid drills. It was surreal, and a little scary.

I was in junior high school when the Cuban missile crisis made the threat of nuclear
war frighteningly real. I remember having long talks with my parents, a’leihem
hashalom, during which they assured me that we would be okay. I was eleven
years old, and I believed them because they never lied to me.

I spent the summer of 1966 with my aunt, uncle, and cousins in Netanya. Less
than a year later, when I listened to the news of bombs landing in Israel, Hashem
yishmor, I was terrified for them. Baruch Hashem, none of them was hurt.

But we, and our children, have heard about people being hurt. We, and they,
remember the loss of a yeshiva child at the hands of adult from our own
community, the murder of a yeshiva teacher by her husband, and the tragedies
that have taken place in public schools. We and they feel deeply saddened by
what happened to them, and frightened by it.

What are you supposed to say to your child when he is scared? How do you make
sense out of something that is senseless, explain the inexplicable, and assure your
child that something that should never have happened will never happen again?

Those were the questions on the mind of a mother of an eight year old who called
me the day that her child’s school was shocked by the news that a teacher had
been murdered by her husband. Even though her child had never been in this
teacher’s class, her child knew this woman and was deeply shaken by what had
happened. Raizy said she had told her daughter that they would talk about it later,
and that Chani shouldn’t worry that anything bad could happen to anyone else in
her school.

But something very bad had happened, and I don’t know how to explain it to her.
What should I tell her? She has, unfortunately, heard about terrible things before,
but I’ve always been able to say to her that what happened there could never
happen here. This struck awfully close to home and I don’t know what to say to
her. How much should I tell her about what really happened and what they’re
saying might have been the reason?

I began by making it very clear that there’s no reason that could possibly make
sense out of or justify what had happened. Then, as is my wont, I asked her a
question.

Raizy, how have you explained this to yourself? How have you made sense out of
what happened and been able to go on with your life so far?

Raizy: It’s totally senseless, and at first I guess I didn’t go on with anything. I was
driving home from seeing one of the children I work with, and I was half listening
to the news on the radio when they said the name of my daughter’s school. Even
though nothing had happened at the school, Baruch Hashem, I was scared about
what would happen when my daughter found out I remember starting to cry but
deciding that I needed to get home and as soon as I got home I called my husband
and told him what had happened and he helped me calm down but when Chani
came home I didn’t know what to tell her, so I told her we’d talk with her later.

Me: And since you said that to her, what have you been doing?

Raizy: What do you mean what have I been doing? I haven’t been doing anything,
I called you to find out what to do.

Me: Yes, and I’m sorry that it took me over an hour to return your call. What have
you been doing in the meantime?

Raizy: I prepared supper and served it and we ate, very quietly.

Me: What you did, Raizy, is you went on with your life to the best of your ability
even though you were very shaken by what had happened and very concerned
about what to say to your daughter. You showed her that life goes on even when
you’re scared and unsure. The next thing to do before you tell Chani anything, is
to ask her what happened. Don’t assume that she knows what you know; don’t
assume anything. When she tells you her understanding of what happened, and
tell her that you think what happened was terribly sad that you hope such a thing
will never happen again. Then ask her to tell you what she thinks about what
happened and what she wishes you could say or do to help her.

If she wishes for reassurance, give it to her. We trust Hashem to shield and protect
us and we doven and do teshuva to bring zchus for ourselves and others.

The Chofetz Chaim, when told of a flood in Mississippi that claimed many lives,
said, “If hashgacha pratis has caused us to hear of this disaster here in Radin then
we must do teshuvah.“ The Chofetz Chaim responded in a similar vein after hearing
that Mount Fuji had erupted in Japan, causing widespread destruction (Kol Kisvei
Chofetz Chaim, vol. 3, Michtavim 10, 12, 30, 40). May we, in his zchus and our
own, share b’soros tovos.

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 718-344-6575.
0 comments

Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

December 20th, 2012

A few weeks ago, I wrote a column entitled, “Medication.” The gist of the column
was that I encourage parents to discuss both main effects and side effects with
children who are taking medication. I want the child to know how a medication
is supposed to help him, and to be alert to how it might be affecting him in other
ways he should report to a parent. Also, I want parents to hear from their child
what it means to him to be taking medication.

I heard some very interesting things from you in response to that column. This
week, I will share with you a response from a colleague, a response from a parent,
and a response from a child.

A good friend and esteemed colleague wrote:

I have also had the conversation with clients who resist medication, stating, often,
that "I want to deal with this all by myself". One strategy I use is to pose to the
client, "If you had a tree in your back yard, and you were told that you have to take
it down 'all by yourself', would that mean that you are permitted to use only your
teeth and fingernails? Is it cheating to use a saw or an axe?" Maybe doing it "all
by yourself" can mean being in charge of making the wisest possible choice to use
the best suited tool for the job.

I like her metaphor. I had written about medication as filling in a chisaron, making
up for something that we were lacking. She framed it as enabling us to do even
more, the way that a tool can give us leverage or strength to build upon our
capabilities. The way I thought about it, as filling in a chisaron, the response might
be, “but I don’t want to have to use a crutch. I want to be able to walk on my own.”
The way she presents it, would the response be, “I want to be able to tear the
tree down with my bare hands? “ Probably not. Unless you look around and see
a whole other lot of other people who are able to tear trees down with their bare
hands. You can look at it as missing something that other people aren’t missing
or you can look at it as needing a tool that other people seem not to need. Take
whichever metaphor makes more sense to you, and talk with your child about
medication if you and your child’s physician believe it is appropriate.

A parent’s response to my article was that he did speak with his son about his
son’s medication. He told me he had been reluctant to tell his child that the tablet
he was taking every morning was not really a vitamin, because he would have to
explain to his son that it was really a medication to help him stay focused in school.
But there was more.

I was concerned about how my son would react when I told him he was taking a
medicine because he had trouble focusing in school. I was even more concerned
that he’d be upset with me for misleading him up until now, not telling him
the truth about the pill he was taking. When I finally did tell him, I was really
impressed with his reaction. The first thing he said to me was, “It’s okay, dad. I
know you didn’t want me to feel bad like there was something wrong with me.”
Then he proceeded to tell me that he knew that since he had started taking this pill
he was able to pay attention and understand more of what was going on in school
and he was very happy about it. And then came the icing on that really nice cake;
he thanked me for figuring out something that could help him and making sure that
he got it.

An enlightening response from a colleague, a heartwarming response from a
parent. The response from a child was of a very different nature.

My parents took me to the doctor because they thought I was too sad sometimes
and too energetic other times and they were worried about me. The doctor told
my parents and me that medication would help me be a little less sad and a little
less excitable, and they encouraged me to take it. They were right. I’ve been
taking the medication for a few weeks now, and I certainly do feel different from
how I used to feel. But is this really me? If the real me gets sadder and more
excited than other people do, isn’t that who I am? The medication does make
me feel different, but it makes me feel different from me. Why do I have to take
medication to make me be somebody else instead of who I really am?

My answer was to ask her who she really is. I wasn’t looking at the clock, but it
seemed like a very long time before she looked up and answered me. She said,
“I’m not really sure. How can I ever know?”

At times like that I really value being a family therapist. I turned to her parents,
who were right there with her and me, and said, “What do you think of her? What
does she do well?”

Both her mother and her father said some very nice things about her.

I asked them, “What do you imagine is hard for her? How can you tell when she’s
concerned about something?”

They said that it’s apparently hard for her to take the medication that was
recommended for her and they don’t really understand her concern.

I don’t have a nice “everybody’s happy” ending for this article.

I last met with this family a few years ago. Their daughter had agreed to take
the medication because her parents thought it was important for her. She still
wondered if she liked herself better the way she was without it.

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 718-344-6575.
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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

December 17th, 2012

I don’t like “why” questions. I don’t like them because when you ask one, you put
the recipient on the defensive, whether you intended to or not.

When a child does something that you don’t like, or doesn’t do something you had
asked him to do, you would do better to ask ‘what happened” rather than “why did
you” or “why didn’t you.” Ha’ksav v’Hakabala (Vayikra 19:17) writes that when you
want to give admonition, you should not say “why did you do that?” You should
instead describe what you observed the person saying or doing, and then ask them
what happened.

Children are usually pretty good at describing what happened, at least from their
point of view. Your best choice is usually to go with their point of view and then ask
them another question: “what were you trying to accomplish with what you did,
what did you want?”

How often do you know what you want?

You may have heard the expression, “begin with the end in mind.” It means to
have kavana, to think about what you could say or do that would bring you closer
to what you want. It’s a great idea. The problem is that it’s predicated on the
assumption that you know what you want, and you, and your child, often don’t
know.

I don’t have any formal statistics on the matter, but I would estimate that more
than 90% of the time when you ask a child, “what did you wish would happen when
you did what you did,” the answer is, “I don’t know.” When parents tell me that
they repeatedly scream at their child, I ask the same question, “what were you
hoping to accomplish, what was the end you had in mind?” They very often say the
same thing: “I don’t know.”

But they do know. They wanted their child to stop what she was doing, and she
did. She stopped. They knew that screaming at her would startle her and scare
her into stopping what she was doing.

I don’t know what to do anymore! I can’t tell you how many times have I seen
out of the corner of my eye, my four-year-old went over to her baby brother and
poked him or pulled on him or touched near his eye. How many times do I have to
scream at her before she realizes that she could hurt him? As soon as I yell, she
pulls her hand away, so yes I do know that yelling at her gets her to stop. But it
seems like no time at all before she does the same thing again! I’ve explained to

her that he is very little, and that she is much bigger and that she could hurt him.
I’ve been over this with her many times, and I’ve asked her, “do you understand?”
She either nods her head silently or she frowns at me and says yes. I wish I could
get her to remember what I have explained to her so many times.

And therein lies the problem; this very sincere and concerned mother is not wishing
well. She wishes her daughter would understand that she has been hurting her
little brother. That wish already came true. I believe her daughter when her
daughter says that she understands what her mother explained to her.

A better wish for mom to have for her daughter would be one that begins with the
end in mind. What does mom want? So far, it sounds like the only thing mom
wants is for her four-year-old daughter to stop hurting her baby brother. If mom
were wishing well, she’d be wishing for her daughter to play with her baby brother
in a way that is appropriate, in a way that both of them would enjoy.

I offered this suggestion to the mom. I asked her how she could help her daughter
come up with ways to play with the baby that would be gentle and pleasant. I
found out that that was not the end that mom had in mind. She could not imagine
it happening.

For over three years, Rachel Bina was the baby of the family and she has had a
very hard time relinquishing that position to Shmuel Dovid. And it’s not like he’s
so demanding. He’s a very easy baby, but Rachel Bina is jealous of any amount of
attention I give him. I think she wants to hurt him, and I don’t know how to get
her to stop and not do it again as soon as I turn around.

Mom’s wish, I now understood, was that Rachel Bina would relinquish her role as
baby of the family. My wish was to help mom understand that Rachel Bina would
be more likely to relinquish her role as baby of the family when she had a new role
to fill. The role of “not hurting her baby brother” was not enough.

I guess that’s why she frowns at me when she says she understands that I don’t
want her to hurt the baby. She understands that she did something I don’t like,
but she doesn’t know what I wish she would do instead. Now that I think about it,
she’s in a vicious circle. She doesn’t like the baby, she’s jealous of him, and then
I yell at her because of something she did to the baby, she sees it as the baby got
her in trouble so she likes him even less. How do I stop it?

When something is happening that we don’t like, we are rarely able to stop it for
very long. Most of the time when we stop ourselves or someone else from doing
something, it starts again unless we replace it with something else. Call it a habit,
a pattern, a vicious circle, call it whatever you like. If you just wish it would stop,
you are not wishing well.

This mom came to wish she could create a new role for Rachel Bina.

She made time to spend one on one with her, and she taught Rachel Bina how to
help her with the baby. It wasn’t always easy.

But it was worth the effort to think about what she and Rachel Bina really wanted,
and work towards it.

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 718-344-6575.
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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

December 9th, 2012

Does this sound familiar to you?

Every evening it’s a battle to get my son to sit down and get started on his homework. I finally decided to make a deal with him. Feivy promised me that he would do his homework as soon as he got home from school if I would buy him the sneakers that he wanted. We shook hands on it, and the very next day while he was in school I bought them for him and gave them to him as soon as he got home. Sounds good, right? But as soon as he had the sneakers, he said he was really hungry and he’d start on his homework as soon as he finished a snack. So he walks into the kitchen, takes out peanut butter, jelly, string cheese, and crackers. Twenty minutes later, literally, he is still eating. I told him I had given him the sneakers because he had agreed to do his homework right away and he said yeah he’ll do it real soon, but right now he’s thirsty. When I came back 10 minutes later to see what he was up to, I found him deeply engrossed in the fascinating fact he had found in the iced tea cap. By now, I was really annoyed. I had kept my part of the bargain and he owed me, and he wasn’t paying up. I got taken. It will be a long time before I trust him enough to make a deal with him again.

It sounds familiar to me. Parents complain to me that they wrote out a contract and their child signed it, or they made a chart and their child was all excited about it but then it “fizzled out,” or they gave their child something she wanted and she promised to behave better but she didn’t. When this happens, parents are frustrated and resentful because their child didn’t keep her word. They think that their child took advantage of them, and they are reluctant to trust her again.

There’s a different way to make a deal with your child. It’s the difference between layaway and credit.

When you make a deal to buy something on credit, you have something now and you expect something else in the future.

You have, right now, an item that you hope will live up to the expectations you have for it. If you bought a scarf, you hope it will keep you warm. If you bought a refrigerator, you hope it will keep things cold. Whether the item meets your expectations or not, you are expected to pay for it in the future when the bill arrives in the mail.

If you don’t pay for it, you end up in conflict with the person or entity with whom you made this agreement. You can try to convince them that you shouldn’t have to pay for something that didn’t meet your expectations, and they might agree, and cancel the charge. You might go to mediation and hope that some third party can help you come to an agreement. Or, you might resort to arbitration and hope to win.

Maybe you are thoroughly satisfied with the product’s performance, but when the bill comes in the mail, you aren’t able to pay it because you can’t afford to, and you didn’t realize that might happen when you agreed to the credit terms. You apologize and ask for more time or a renegotiation of the terms. The creditor, even if she agrees, might be unwilling to work with you again, fearing that you might again make an agreement you won’t be able to keep. She doesn’t trust you, you resent her for not trusting you, and you’re not going to be working together again until those bad feelings subside.

There’s another way to make a deal: the layaway plan. When you buy something on layaway, you have something now, and something else to expect in the future.

Here is how layaway works: you bring an item that you want to purchase to the cashier. You pay as much towards the price as you can afford now. The item you selected is tagged with your name and placed in storage, or “on layaway,” inside the store. You agree to pay small amounts over time until you have paid the full price, at which time the item is yours to take home. When you buy on layaway, what you have now is an agreement to pay for something. What you expect in the future is to get the item you’ve been paying for.

If you aren’t able to pay the balance over the agreed upon period of time, the item is removed from storage and placed back on the shelf, and you get your money back. You’re disappointed, but you will be allowed to put a deposit on another item because the store didn’t lose anything by giving you a chance. There is disappointment but nobody feels cheated or betrayed.

Whether you’re offering your child a chart or a contract or just a verbal agreement, structure the incentive as a layaway rather than giving it to your child up front on credit, with your child owing you something in return. If you give your child the incentive up front, you are the one who is motivated to receive payment, and your child may be unwilling or unable to pay. If you structure a layaway plan with pre-payments that your child is able to make in order to earn something, the onus and the motivation rest with the child, not you. If your child gives up on making the payments, slow down and help her figure out what happened. Has she decided the incentive isn’t worth the effort after all, or is she really unable to keep up the payments, and wishes she could?

If the incentive isn’t worth it to her, ask her what would be, and see if you can agree on something.

What if the incentive is worth it to her, she wishes she could earn it, but isn’t able to? Sit down with her and ask her what would help her. Then either adjust your expectation to put it within her reach, or help her to extend her grasp.

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 718-344-6575.

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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

December 9th, 2012

René Descartes, in Principles of Philosophy, wrote: Cogito, ergo sum, "I think, therefore I am."

That’s a good start. “Therefore I am.” Therefore you are, what? It gets more interesting when you realize that what you think and how you think can affect who you are, what you feel, and the way you behave.

If I think that a lion is 20 feet away from me and it could leap from where it is standing to where I am standing, I will be terrified and I will freeze in fear or run in a desperate attempt to escape. If, instead, I think that a lion is 20 feet away from me and I know that the zoo was laid out in such a way that it appears 20 feet away yet it cannot come near me, I will be fascinated, and I will stand still pondering how they created that three-dimensional optical illusion.

Does it seem to you that many of your child’s thoughts are illusions? Does she become angry at an imagined slight, fearful of a harmless adversary, or deeply sad at a minor disappointment? How can you get her to think more accurately so that her feelings will be less intense, and her behaviors more modulated? How do you teach her to cultivate more objective observation of events and to give less credence to her initial impressions?

Batsheva’s mother Ruthie put the question this way:

What method do you recommend when a child overreacts to things, gets all wound up over nothing?

My answer was concise.

Empathy.

I find empathy to be a good place to start. Most parents are able to remember a time when they reacted to something as though it were a larger issue than it really was, objectively. But they weren’t being objective, their thinking was not accurate, and they allowed the emotions triggered by their initial impressions to drive their behavioral reactions, usually in an unhelpful direction.

Clinically, we use the term psychotic to describe thoughts that stem from inaccurate beliefs, or delusions. Here is a broader use of the term.

“Why are we so amazed by the fantasy thoughts of a psychotic, wondering how such craziness enters the human mind? Why are we not equally amazed by our own delusions, which are sometimes no less than the psychotic’s?

“This is because each of us has one or several emotional weak points where we still have not matured: self-indulgence…temper tantrums…ego-pride…Whatever it is, each one of us, in that area, has such irrational thoughts that only a born psychotic could entertain them. But we, sophisticated savants that we are, who become enraged at the slightest affront to our intelligence, are unaware of our own fantasy thoughts and entertain psychotic thinking.

“Take for example someone who is stuck in ego-pride. Everything he does or says will activate some or many thoughts of ego-pride: ”How clever what I just said,” or “How nice what I just did,” or “How so-and-so will envy me” or “Everyone will talk about me and give me my due honor.” Even if what he said or did was said or done in his own privacy, nevertheless his thoughts will still be there. And after all is said and done, his actions may have been not only not clever but even foolish. So this is the intelligent, rational being who now prides himself in foolish action? And what kind of delusive thinking is it to weave up illusory conversations of others who have nothing to discuss, because they did not see his actions? The only explanation is that as far as his ego-pride is concerned, he is psychotic-no matter how intelligent and genius he may be in all other matters. Such is the case with ego-pride, but the “rational” mind has similar delusions for self-indulgence, temper tantrums, or whatever.

“And what advice can we give to the human being who seeks therapy for his psychosis? The hard truth is there is no complete cure that will keep every unsound thought from rising to mind, but at least you can reduce the insanity of these thoughts and keep their appearance to a minimum. The way to do this is through heightened self-awareness.

“Train yourself to watch every thought that comes to mind; pay attention to all your inner self-talk. Listen to what these inner voices are saying, especially those surrounding your emotional weak points.

“At the beginning this very introspection will be with crooked vision, deluding ourselves how clever our thoughts are. But with perseverance, by the tenth time we will clearly see how irrational our thinking is and be shocked by how our sophisticated minds ever entertained such delusions. Our deified intellect will then lose its status and become an object of laughter for us. Never again will we blindly trust our mind and rely on its rationality.

“These two perspectives – objective vision and loss of credence- are necessary to reach our objective. As long as my thoughts are ideal in my eyes and my thinking is for me infallible, introspection will not help because in my heart I am saying how sound and straight are my thought patterns. I will not look with detached, objective vision. But after several times of experiencing our own psychosis, after laughing at our insane thoughts, we will be able to spot one the next time it comes and be able to correct it.”

The above paragraphs are taken from the diary of the Peasetzna Rebbe, Rav Kalonymous Kalman Shapira, HY”D. (To Heal The Soul, Pages 92-93)

Batsheva’s mother Ruthie asked:

What method do you recommend when a child overreacts to things, gets all wound up over nothing?

The answer begins with empathy, the willingness to accept Batsheva’s illusory thinking instead of challenging it.

Gently ask her to share her self-talk with you. “With perseverance, by the tenth time,” though it may take even longer, you will eventually hear Batsheva begin to think more objectively, lose her credence in the initial conclusions she jumps to, and slow down enough to spot her irrational thoughts and correct them. You will be giving her the opportunity to practice thinking more rationally, and you’ll be healing her soul.

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 718-344-6575.

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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

December 2nd, 2012

Have you ever asked your child, “what’s the matter”, and he said “I don’t know.”

Children often say, “I don’t know” because they don’t know. They don’t have the words to describe what they’re feeling.

You can help your child identify and express feelings. Identify has to come first.

When your child can’t describe what he’s feeling, you may be tempted to offer some suggestions.

Mom: You look like something’s bothering you, Malka. What’s the matter?

Malka: I don’t know.

Mom: Are you angry about something?

Malka: I don’t know.

Mom: Are you upset with about someone?

Malka: I don’t know.

This line of questioning is often frustrating for both parent and child. There is an alternative.

Invite your child to talk about what happened instead of asking what’s bothering her. Ask her about events rather than feelings.

Mom: You look like something’s bothering you, Malka. What happened?

Malka: I was raising my hand nicely but Morah never calls on me.

Next, paraphrase your child’s report of what happened to her, and then ask her what that meant to her, how she interpreted what she saw and heard.

Mom: The teacher never calls on you, even when you raise your hand quietly, and you don’t even wave it around. Tell me more.

CAUTION: You may be quite sure that “never calls on me” is not an accurate statement. For the time being, accept your child’s perception and you will be able to help her think about it differently as your conversation continues. If you challenge her on it now, she will argue the point, and tell you that you never believe her. Your conversation will come to an abrupt end, and she’ll still think that her morah never calls on her.

Malka: It’s not fair. She doesn’t like me.

Mom: It seems unfair that she didn’t call on you. When that happens, what is it like for you?

Now you are inviting her to identify the feelings that she experiences as a result of things that happen and her interpretation of those events. Her teacher didn’t call on her even though she had been raising her hand nicely. You really don’t know why the teacher didn’t call on her. Perhaps the teacher saw 12 hands raised nicely and called on someone else, not intending to “not call on” Malka. Nonetheless, Malka was not called on.

Malka: It’s not fair!

You asked Malka what it’s like for her when she thinks it’s not fair that her teacher didn’t call on her. In your first attempt to elicit her feelings you asked her an open-ended question, “what is it like for you.” You were hoping she would tell you how she feels when she’s thinking those thoughts, but she again told you the thought, “it’s not fair,” rather than describing any feeling she has about it. Now, switch to a multiple-question:

Mom: I understand it seemed really unfair to you. And when that happened, you felt sad, or angry, or frustrated...

Malka: I felt sad. Morah never pays attention to me. It makes me angry.

Mom: So you felt sad and angry. (sigh) [Feel bad with her!]

Right about here, parents describing these types of conversations sometimes say to me:

I validated her feelings. Then I explained to her that perhaps the teacher saw 12 hands raised nicely and called on someone else, not intending to “not call on” her. I told her that it’s fair for other children to get a turn sometimes, and there’s no reason to be sad and angry, and besides, I’m sure because she gets called on sometimes, too.

When you say to your child, “I understand that you felt sad and angry” and then proceed to tell him that he shouldn’t have, you didn’t validate his feelings. You told him that you think his feelings were invalid and unnecessary, and that he got it wrong again.

You will be more helpful to your child when you really do validate his feelings. You would sound like this:

Mom: You felt sad and angry when Morah called on someone else even though you were raising your hand nicely. What happened then, Malka?

Malka: I make a little bird sound to get on her nerves cause I was angry at her.

Mom: And then what happened?

Malka: Morah said I’d be getting an assignment.

Mom: Is that what the teacher meant in the note she sent home with your punishment assignment? The note that says you disrupted the class?

Malka: Yes.

Mom: Malka, what else could you do the next time you feel sad and angry in school? I don’t want you to get in trouble again.

Malka: I don’t know.

We’re back to “I don’t know.”

This time, Malka doesn’t know what else to do when she’s sad and angry about something that happened in school, and last time she did something that got her in trouble. When your child doesn’t know what else to do when she’s sad and angry, you may be tempted to offer some suggestions. Slow down.

First, as we’ve already discussed, don’t try to talk her out of being sad and angry. She may decide, in retrospect, that she could have thought about the situation differently and she would have felt differently, not sad and angry. That doesn’t mean that she’ll never feel sad and angry in a similar situation.

You have the opportunity to help her think about what behavioral choices she could make the next time she experiences those feelings. I urge you to help her think about it, not think about it for her.

You help her think by giving her time to think. When she says, “I don’t know,” say to her that you understand (and accept!) that she doesn’t know. Then, gently tell her that you want her to think about it, and that you want her to come and tell you what ideas she thought of. If she asks you, “what do you think I could do,” offer her a suggestion, and ask her to think what would happen if she were to do what you suggested. If she imagines it would work well for her, fine. If not, see if you, together, can modify it so it would work.

What always works for a child when she’s sad and angry? I don’t know. What always works for you?

In Liketui Eitzos, R' Nachum of Breslov, wrote, “When you run out of tachbolos, you're left with savlonus.” You can’t always prevent or cure sadness and anger. You can cope with them in ways that don’t hurt you or those around you. That’s what you teach your child.

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 718-344-6575.
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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

December 2nd, 2012

How well do you do with taking medication? I don’t mean are you able to swallow a pill. I mean are you willing to take medication when it could help you feel better.

I know some people who will walk around with a headache for days rather than take an aspirin or aspirin substitute. I know other people who don’t think twice about taking medicine that they think might help them feel better.

I also know people who use alcohol as a form of medication because they see that as socially acceptable whereas taking medication would leave them feeling stigmatized.

Stigma is a serious concern for many children as well. Some children do not want to take medication because they believe it would mean there’s something wrong with them. To avoid this entire issue, parents sometimes tell young children that the pill they offer them every morning is a vitamin. If your child’s pediatrician recommends this as an appropriate way to work with your child, follow his or her guidance. Just be careful to tell your child the truth before he finds out on his own.

What is the truth? What is wrong with your child that you don’t want to tell him? You don’t want to tell your child that he is hyperactive? Or that he is attention -deficit or that he is bipolar or oppositional/defiant? I don’t want you to say any of these things to him, either. He is none of the above. He may, chas v’shalom, suffer from and struggle with any of the above disorders and they can make life difficult for him, but they do not define him. He may struggle with bipolar disorder; he is not bipolar. He may suffer from oppositional/defiant disorder; he is not ODD. Yes, I know that many people use those terms in that way, and most adults understand that being described as bipolar doesn’t mean that’s all that they are. Children don’t yet know who they are, and it is important to help them separate their challenges from their basic sense of self.

Think about the words borei n’fashos rabbos v’chesronan. Every one of us has chesronos, every one of us is incomplete. Some chesronos are more painful and stigmatizing than others. Teaching your child to be discreet is important. Speaking with your child honestly about his challenges is vital.

Borei n’fashos rabbos v’chesronan. The words also mean: HaShem has provided for the chesronos, every one of us can be complete enough to serve HaShem. Sometimes, medication helps with overcoming challenges or coping with them more effectively. First, you need to understand each chesaron.

The purpose of diagnosing someone is not to label them. The purpose of diagnosis is to understand the nature of a challenge in order to address it as directly as possible. For example, depressed mood may be effectively addressed by one medication while labile, or fluctuating, mood may be worsened by that same medication. The way that we hope a medication will help someone is called the main effect. For example, the main effect of an anti-depressant is to reduce the feelings and the thoughts of depression.

Medications also have side effects. Some side effects are merely unpleasant and should be tolerated, while some are dangerous and should be reported to a physician or emergency care provider immediately.

You should have a clear understanding of the desired main effect, and the side effects, of any medication that is prescribed for your child.

I encourage parents to discuss both main effects and side effects with children who are taking medication. I want a child to know how a medication is supposed to help him, and to be alert to how it might be affecting him in other ways he should report to a parent.

In addition, I want hear from a child what it means to him to be taking medication.

Dovid R. sounded embarrassed. His voice was halting and soft. He asked if I could tell him how to get his son to take the medication that he was refusing.

Me: You said, Dovid, that you haven’t been able to get your son Nissie to take his medication. What’s your impression of what it is that Nissie doesn’t like about his medication?

Dovid: I’ve explained to him why he needs to take his medication and he’s still refusing.

Me: And when you asked Nissie what it is that he doesn’t like about the medication what did he say to you?

Dovid: Actually, my wife tried that and it didn’t help at all.

Me: What did your wife say to him?

Dovid: She asked him why he refuses to take it, and he yelled back at her, “you can’t make me!”

Me: So you’ve told Nissie that he has to take his medication, your wife asked him why he won’t take his medication, and he’s still not taking his medication?

Dovid: Exactly. So what else can we do?

Me: Dovid, what do you think will happen when you say, “Nissie, what is it about your medication that you don’t like?”

Dovid: I’m not really sure, but I can tell you that this is the kind of stuff my wife does not want to hear. She told me she did not want to meet with you because Nissie’s medication is not optional, and she was afraid you’d make it sound like it is.

Me: Dovid, if the prescribing physician considers the medication to be necessary for Nissie, I would never mean to imply that it’s optional. My concern is that when your wife asks Nissie a “why” question, Nissie becomes defensive. You’re explaining how important it is that he take his medication, but he never gets to express what it is that’s hard for him about it.

Dovid: But I think that’s my wife’s point. It doesn’t matter that it’s hard for him; he needs to take the medication anyway! And you said you also don’t think it’s optional, so what’s the point of asking Nissie what’s hard about it for him?

Me: The point is that there may be something about taking the medication that you could make less unpleasant for Nissie, but we won’t know what that might be until we ask Nissie for some more information about what is hard for him. It’s more likely that Nissie will answer you when you ask him an open-ended question rather than putting him on the defensive by asking him “why” or trying to guess at what’s hard for him with a series of questions to which he has to answer yes or no. So, what do you think is going to happen when you sit down with Nissie in a private, quiet place and gently say to him, “Nissie, what is it about your medication that you don’t like?”

Dovid: I’m not really sure, but you know what; I’d like to give it a try.

Our conversation resumed the followed week.

Dovid: This is my wife Shany. She decided to join us after she heard the outcome of my conversation with Nissie about his medication. The first thing I realized about what you had said to me was that I’ve never had a “private, quiet” conversation with Nissie about his medication before. Just sitting down alone with him in the guestroom, we both seemed so much more relaxed.

Then, I did all the things you suggested. I made eye contact with him, I told him that I think it’s really important that he take his medication, and I asked him what’s hard about it for him. He said he hates it when his sister Devorah points out his pill on the breakfast table and says, “Well, Nissie, I guess you’ll have your head on straight for a few hours.” Then, like you had said, rather than offering a solution, I asked Nissie what he would suggest. He said he wanted to keep a bottle of water in his room and take the medication there before coming to breakfast. And he’s taken it every day since we spoke about it.

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 718-344-6575.
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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

October 20th, 2012

Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

Are you a sufficient parent?

If you think the answer is yes, beware of complacency.

If you think the answer is no, what do you think about that?  What is it like for you to think that you're not sufficient as a parent?  I would like you to think that it is all right.  And not become complacent.

You've got me confused.  You want me to be okay with being insufficient as a parent?

I would really prefer that you see yourself as a sufficient parent who provides for his children's needs and wants to give them even more.  Have you ever made a siyum on anything you've learned?

Sure, I made a siyum just last month on a Seder Mishnayos, Seder Moed.

Mazal Tov.  So you're finished with Seder Moed now, you've learned it sufficiently.

No, I mean, yes I learned it sufficiently, but no, I'm not finished with it.

You're not finished with it?  But you made a siyum.   If you're not finished, what were you m'sayaim?

I was m'sayaim the Mishnayos with the Rav.  But I'm not finished with it.  I hope next time to learn Seder Moed with the Tosfos Yom Tov, and maybe another time with the Tiferes Yisrael.

So you made a siyum but you didn't really celebrate since you haven't yet learned it with the Tosfos Yom Tov, and the Tiferes Yisrael.

NO, that's not true.  I was very excited about making the siyum on what I had learned.

You were excited about what you had accomplished even though there's a lot more that you want to accomplish?

Yes, I was.  What's wrong with that?

There was nothing wrong with that.  He was a sufficient Mishnayos Moed learner worthy of making a siyum, and aware that he wanted to learn even more. 

That's the way I want you to think about yourself as a parent.  Sufficient and not complacent.

Yaakov Avinu offered a gift to his brother Esau.  Esau demurred, saying, "I have a lot.?€  Yaakov replied, "I have everything.?€  Esau's statement sounds like a realistic assessment of his situation.  Yaakov's, on the other hand, is hard to understand.  It might even be mistaken for complacence.  "I have everything" sounds like there's nothing more I that need.

What Yaakov said was true.  Yaakov knew that he had everything he needed.  It may be that the lesson to us in Yaakov's words to his brother is that sometimes what you need most to realize is that you have everything you need.

The earliest version of a list of fundamental human needs may be the Mishna in Pirkei Avos that teaches us that even if one had to subsist on salted bread and measured amounts of water and had to sleep on the floor, one could still learn Torah.  The Mishna describes it as chiyai tsaar, a life of depredation.  One would want more, but not need more. 

A more recent version of this short list of needs, formulated by Abraham Maslow, was published in the 1943 issue of the journal Psychological Review.  Maslow drew a pyramid to illustrate how our basic needs must be met before we can aspire to what he called higher level needs.  The bottom level of his pyramid is labeled "Immediate Physiological Needs," and it refers to food, water and sleep as the fundamental human needs, the same ones listed in the Mishna.  Maslow's Pyramid rises to include esteem, respect, and self-actualization, which he described as higher level needs.  That's where I disagree.

If you need something and you don't have it, you are lacking something, you're incomplete, and perhaps even endangered.  According the Mishna, if you have food, water, and the ability to sleep, you have everything you need.  You are not lacking anything, you need nothing else.  There are higher level wants, aspirations, and desires, but, by definition, these are not needs.  You may strongly desire something, deeply yearn for it, and be genuinely disappointed if you don't achieve it, but it isn't essential to your survival.   The lack of a need is a threat that must be addressed.   Lacking a want, however important it may be, is not a threat.  Failing to make the distinction leaves people feeling and behaving threatened over unmet wants in the guise of needs.  Understanding the difference between needs and wants allows us to allocate our energies more appropriately.

Let's go back to my conversation with the dad who had made a siyum even though he wasn't forever finished with Seder Moed.  He said he had finished learning the Mishnayos with the Rav.  He hopes to learn it someday with additional m'forshim.  I suspect that if he were to re-learn the Mishnayos with the Rav he would learn more that he had learned the last time through.  So do I think his siyum was a farce, that he had no reason to celebrate?  No, I don't think that at all.  I think his siyum, and all siyumim, are echoes of Yaakov's words to Esau.  Echoes of the message that when we have what we need, we should acknowledge and celebrate that.  We may, and perhaps should, want more, but it's important to distinguish between needs and wants.  Siyum means finished, and there's more to do.

The ability to joyfully accept what we've accomplished and at the same time want more is the paradox of the siyum.  The lesson of that paradox is best observed through its converse, the insistence on getting more because you think what you have is never enough.  A sure recipe for frustration, disappointment, resentment, and ultimately, despair.

So what can I say to my child when he wants more than I can possibly give him?

That's a fair question.  I'll ask you one in return.

What do you say to yourself when you want more than you can have right now? 

I hope you have learned to cope with disappointment, and to think about accepting what is now, while you plan for and look forward to something even better. 

Teach your child by modeling for your child that contentment needn't breed complacency and a siyum is worth celebrating even though you want to learn more.

 

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 718-344-6575.
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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

September 26th, 2012

Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

 

Last week I told you the story of a young couple who decided they wanted to watch the sunrise.  They got up very early in the morning and stood very still facing the night sky.  There was a beautiful, clear, bright sunrise, but they didn't see it.  The next day, they rose earlier and walked briskly toward the night sky.  There was a glorious sun rise, and they missed it.  They were determined to achieve their goal.  So the next day, they rose even earlier, and they ran toward the night sky.   The magnificent sunrise that day eluded them once again.  Clearly they hadn't learned from their mistake.  They repeated it with greater enthusiasm, and got the same dismal result.

 

I told you that had they spoken to themselves, and to each other, they might have realized that doing the same thing they had been doing, no matter how diligently, consistently, and carefully, would never get them the outcome they desired.

 

How can that be?  How can it be that even with sincere, concerted effort, achieving a goal as seemingly simple as watching the sunrise on a clear day, can be so elusive?  And given that it is so elusive, how can stopping to talk to yourself about it make a difference?

 

Because when you stop what you're doing and listen to what you're saying to yourself, you will hear what you're thinking.  Or you'll hear that you hadn't been thinking at all, just doing what you've always done, by rote.

 

Had the young couple in our story stopped long enough to listen to their thoughts, they might have realized that their thinking was flawed.  That flaw in their thinking, that unexplored premise upon which all of their actions were based, was rendering their actions futile.   No amount of diligence, no level of consistency or sincerity or effort could possibly bring them to their goal of seeing the sunrise.  No matter how still they stood, how far they walked, how early they rose, how fast they ran; they did not and would never see the sunrise.  Until they examined their thoughts.

 

Here is how Aviva and Shmulik examined their thoughts to discover the flaw in their thinking that was preventing them from helping their daughter Li-el.

 

Me:  You've told me that one of the most frustrating things for you is when Li-el tries to carry more groceries into the house at one time than she can and she ends up dropping and sometimes spilling things even though you've told her numerous times not to.

 

Li-el's mom: That's right.  I don't know how many times we've said to her, "you should have learned by now that every time you take too many groceries you drop something.  How do you not realize that it's going to happen again??€

 

Me:  I believe you that you don't know how many times you've said that to her.  I'd like you to take a guess.  Would you estimate that you've said that to her seven times or maybe ten times; maybe more than ten times?  What do you think?

 

Li-el's dad:   Between Aviva and me, we've probably said it took her more than ten times, but what's the difference?

 

Me:  I was about to ask you the same thing.  What's the difference?  What difference have you made, what have you accomplished by saying the same thing to her repeatedly?  I would ask you to consider being roe-eh es hanoelad of your saying the same thing to her over and over again.  You keep telling her to look at the results of her trying to take too many groceries at the same time.  I'm asking you to think about the results of what you're doing.  She keeps doing the same thing and you keep saying the same thing and nothing has improved.

 

Li-el's mom:  So what should I say to her to get her to stop taking too many groceries?

 

Me:  We'll get to that in a minute.  First I want to know what you say to yourself when you see her carrying too many groceries.

 

Li-el's mom:  I don't say anything to myself.

 

Me:  I would like you to.  I would like you to picture in your mind, right now, Li-el carrying too many groceries.   Imagine that you're about to tell her something, and tell me, out loud, what it is you're hoping to accomplish with what you're going to say to her, knowing that what you've said to her up until now hasn't helped.

 

Li-el's mom:  I don't know.  I don't know what else to say to her.  I still want her to know that she's taking too many groceries.   Shmulik, what else do you think I should say to her?

 

Li-el's dad:  I don't know either.

 

Me:  I don't know for sure, either, but I would like to suggest that before you say anything to Li-el, you first say to yourself, "I wonder how many groceries Li-el would be able to carry safely.  She apparently doesn't know how to gauge that.?€  Then you could help her figure it out, perhaps starting by carrying very few items, and gradually increasing the number.

 

The flaw in Aviva and Shmulik's thinking was that Li-el could do better if they kept telling her she was failing. 

 

She already knew she had taken more than she could carry as soon as she dropped something.   Telling her about her failure more consistently, or more promptly after she failed, or louder, didn't help her do better.  When they listened to themselves, they realized that their goal wasn't to show her that she had done poorly; she already knew that.  Their goal was to help her improve.  They did that by slowing down, and inviting her to think with them about how to improve.

 

What about the young couple yearning to see the sunrise, and expending much effort in what continued to be a fruitless quest?  What was the flaw in their thinking?  

 

They thought if they worked hard and long enough they'd be able to see the sunrise even though they were facing west.

 

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 718-344-6575.

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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

September 26th, 2012

Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

 

I was told the following fictitious story.

 

A man observed a woman in the grocery store with a three year old girl in her shopping cart.  As they passed the cookie section, the little girl asked for cookies and her mother told her, "No."  The little girl immediately began to whine and fuss, and the mother said quietly, "Now Monica, we just have half of the aisles left to go through - don't be upset. It won't be long now."

Soon, they came to the candy aisle and the little girl began to shout for candy. When told she couldn't have any, she began to cry. The mother said, "There, there, Monica, don't cry - only two more aisles to go and then we'll be checking out."

When they got to the checkout stand, the little girl immediately began to clamor for gum and burst into a terrible tantrum upon discovering there'd be no gum purchased.  The mother said serenely, "Monica, we'll be through this checkout stand in 5 minutes and then you can go home and have a nice nap."

The man followed them out to the parking lot and stopped the woman to compliment her.  "I couldn't help noticing how patient you were with little Monica," he began.  The mother replied, "I'm Monica - my little girl's name is Tammy."

 

Monica was talking to herself. 

 

I remember when talking to yourself was considered a sign that there was something wrong with you. Years ago, when we saw someone walking down the street by themselves talking out loud we would think they were a little strange.  Now we assume they're talking to someone on their Bluetooth, and what's strange is the private things people talk about in full voice in public places.

 

Monica told the man that she'd been talking to herself rather than to her little girl as he had imagined.  It's a good punch line if you see this story as a humorous anecdote.  We can also see this story as a parable and take from it an important musar haskale.

 

Im ain ani li, mi li.  If I don't talk to myself, who will talk to me?  Do I expect my child to help me put things into perspective, to think about what choices I have and how I can express myself more effectively, and to slow down long enough to weigh the potential outcomes of the choice before I make it?

 

My wife and I were discussing what you said last week about weighing the outcomes of choices that we can make before we make one.  You quoted a chazal that says "ai-zeh hu chacham? Ha-ro-eh es hanoelad- Who is wise? One who can see the outcome of his action.?€  We're not nevi'im; how is that possible?

 

You're right.  The example of roe-eh es hanoelad is Lot.  Rashi points out that Lot knew what had happened with his older daughter, yet he made the same choice again rather than learning from the "nolad" of his prior choice.  He made the same choice that led to the same unfortunate outcome instead of learning from how this choice had turned out before.  You've told me that one of the most frustrating things for you is when Li-el tries to carry more groceries into the house at one time than she can and she ends up dropping and sometimes spilling things even though you've told her numerous times not to.

 

Li-el's mom:  You mean we need to get Li-el to be roe-eh es hanoelad, to see what happened the last time she took too many groceries so she won't do it again.  But we've tried to.  I don't know how many times we've said to her, "you should have learned by now that every time you take too many groceries you drop something.  How do you not realize that it's going to happen again??€

 

Me:  I believe you that you don't know how many times you've said that to her.  I'd like you to take a guess.  Would you estimate that you've said that to her seven times or maybe ten times; maybe more than ten times?  What do you think?

 

Li-el's dad:   Between Aviva and me, we've probably said it took her more than ten times, but what's the difference?

 

Me:  I was about to ask you the same thing.  What's the difference?  What difference have you made, what have you accomplished by saying the same thing to her repeatedly?  I would ask you to consider being roe-eh es hanoelad of your saying the same thing to her over and over again.  You keep telling her to look at the results of her trying to take too many groceries at the same time.  I'm asking you to think about the results of what you're doing.  She keeps doing the same thing and you keep saying the same thing and nothing has improved.

 

Li-el's mom:  So what should I say to her to get her to stop taking too many groceries?

 

Me:  We'll get to that in a minute.  First I want to know what you say to yourself when you see her carrying too many groceries.

 

Li-el's mom:  I don't say anything to myself.

 

Me:  I would like you to.  I would like you to picture in your mind, right now, Li-el carrying too many groceries.   Imagine that you're about to tell her something, and tell me, out loud, what it is you're hoping to accomplish with what you're going to say to her, knowing that what you've said to her up until now hasn't helped.

 

Li-el's mom:  I don't know.  I don't know what else to say to her.  I still want her to know that she's taking too many groceries.   Shmulik, what else do you think I should say to her?

 

Li-el's dad:  I don't know either.

 

Their situation reminded me of another story I was told.  It's the story of a young couple who decided they wanted to watch the sunrise.  They got up very early in the morning and stood very still facing the night sky.  There was beautiful, clear, bright sunrise, but they didn't see it.  The next day, they rose earlier and walked briskly toward the night sky.  There was a glorious sun rise, and they missed it.  They were determined to achieve their goal.  So the next day, they rose even earlier, and they ran toward the night sky.   The magnificent sunrise that day eluded them once again.  Clearly they hadn't learned from their mistake.  They repeated it with greater enthusiasm, and got the same dismal result.

 

Had they spoken to themselves, and each other, they might have figured out what to do differently.   G-d willing, next week, I'll tell you what they would've heard.

 

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 718-344-6575.

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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

September 11th, 2012

Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

 

Dina and Menachem were both on the phone when they called.  I was struggling because I don't multitask well, especially when the task is to listen to two people speaking to me at the same time.  I was able to discern that they both wanted to talk with me about a child named Levi.   They made an appointment and came in later that week.

 

Here's how the session began:

 

Menachem, please tell me about your son.

 

He is an ingrate, a liar, a stubborn ox, and he's insensitive.

 

Thank you, Menachem.  

 

Dina, please tell me about your son.

 

He is appreciative, truthful, flexible, and sensitive.

 

Thank you, Dina.  And Dina, I'm curious.  Why did you choose to describe a different one of yours sons from the one that your husband described?

 

I didn't.  We told you at the outset that we wanted to meet with you to discuss our concerns about our son, Levi.  When you asked me to tell you about my son, I assumed you were asking about Levi, and that's who I described.

 

Really?  Menachem, you also described Levi to me?

 

Yes, like Dina said, we came to speak with you about Levi.  You started out by asking me to describe our son, and I assumed you meant the son we told you on the phone we wanted help with, Levi.

 

As I describe this conversation to you, dear reader, it seems obvious that either Menachem or Dina has an incorrect impression of their son Levi.   How could that have happened, and how could I fix it?

 

The answer is that both Menachem and Dina have accurate impressions of their son Levi, and that happened because he reacts to each of them very differently.   I didn't fix it, but I did help them understand why he reacts to them differently.  They're fixing it, gradually.

 

I asked mom to give me an example of a situation in which she saw Levi as a child who is appreciative, truthful, flexible, and sensitive.

 

I heard his sister screaming at him.  I went to see what had happened and I saw that he had her doll in his hand.  I asked him what was going on, and he said she had used his pencil sharpener without asking him first, so now he had taken her doll without asking her first.  He was truthful.  Then I asked him what else he could do to let his sister know that he is upset with her.  He put the doll down and told her to ask him first next time.  He was flexible.   He looked at me and said, "I'm sorry, mommy.  Thank you for not yelling at me.?€  He was sensitive and appreciative.  That's the kind of child he is.

 

I asked dad to give me an example of a situation in which he saw Levi as a child who is an ingrate, a liar, a stubborn ox, and insensitive.

 

I heard his sister screaming at him.  I went to see what had happened and I saw that he had her doll in his hand.  I asked, "what are you doing with your sister's doll, how many times have I told you not to touch her things.?€  He started to say something about his pencil sharpener; I stopped him and told him there is no excuse for touching her things.  All this was not even 20 minutes after I had let him have the apple he'd been asking for.  He's an ingrate.  He said he thought she wouldn't mind that he was playing with her doll.  He's a liar. I asked him why he can't do what he's told and he said his sister should do what she's told.  He's a stubborn ox.  Then he looked right at his sister and yelled, "I hate you."  He's insensitive.

 

I told them that all of this reminded me of a boy with whom I met many years ago.  His menahel asked me to speak with this child because his rebbe was becoming very frustrated with him and repeatedly sent him out of the classroom.  The menahel told me that the rebbe had wondered if the boy needed to be treated for Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD without hyperactivity) because this 5^th grader had become unable to stay focused and on task. 

 

I met with the child and gave him a set of pictures depicting various feelings. I asked him to circle all of the feelings he could remember experiencing over the past couple of days.  Like most children, he circled "bored."  One of the only other feelings he circled was "exhausted.?€ 

 

I asked him to tell me about "exhausted.?€  He told me that he doesn't get enough sleep because he reads in bed after his mother has turned off the light.  We discussed strategies to increase the amount of sleep he could get, and he decided he would put the book away sooner and go to sleep earlier. 

 

When we met a week later, he said he had been unable to limit himself to a shorter period of time to read in bed.  I asked him if he'd like me to invite his parents to meet with us to figure out how they could help him, and he said yes. 

 

The following week, his parents and I discussed their role as helpers towards their son's goal of staying focused in class. They agreed that getting more sleep is an objective towards that goal with which they could help by more carefully monitoring their child after his bed time, removing books from his room, checking under his pillow, and coming in to look in on him periodically.

 

The child agreed to all of this.  At my next meeting with the child, he told me, with a big smile, that he has been focusing much better in class because he has been getting more sleep since his parents have been making sure he doesn't read in bed.

 

What's the comparison?  That boy you met with in yeshiva wanted to be able to focus and stay on track, he wanted help.  Levi never said he wants to behave better.

 

That's true, Menachem, he never said that to you.  But he expressed himself quite clearly to Dina; he apologized for what he done and he put down his sister's doll.

 

But why can't he be more patient with her to begin with?

 

That's a good question.  You might be the answer.  It might help him to cultivate the middah of patience when he sees it more often from you.

 

I'm not Dina.  She is a patient person.  I'm not.

 

Menachem, I hope you will doven for the patience and tolerance to stay calm so that you can help your child when he is behaving in a way that you don't like.   You and I can talk about what happens to you to when you're unhappy with something Levi has done.  I don't know if you'll ever be a "patient person" like Dina.  I think you can be patient more often than you are now.

 

That's what we ask Hashem to do for us; to be erech apayim, forbearing.  We are taught that Hashem treats us the way we treat others (b'midah she'adam modaid bo modidim lo).

We ask Hashem to help us even when we might not deserve it.  No relationship parallels our relationship with Hashem more closely than our children's relationship with us.

 

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 718-344-6575.
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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

September 2nd, 2012

What is the most impressive accomplishment in professional sports? What is that question doing in this newspaper? One of the lessons Ben Azzai teaches us in Pirkei Avos is al t'hi maflig l'chol davar, which means there is potential value in everything in Hashem's world (Tiferes Yisrael on Avos 4:3).  Maybe we can even derive a musar haskal from professional sports. In most sports, there is a champion every year.  Every year, someone win …
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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

September 2nd, 2012

Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

 

There is one question that parents ask me that I refuse to answer.

 

"Why don't kids today do what they're told like kids used to do??€

 

Why do I refuse to answer that question?  Is there such a thing as a bad question?  Isn't it a sign of wisdom to ask questions?

 

There is no problem with the question per se.  The problem lies within the premise that generated the question.

 

The premise is, "kids used to do what they were told.?€  It's a false premise.  If it were true that kids used to do what they were told and now they don't, it might be useful to ask why they did then and they don't now.  But questions that are based on a false premise are not useful.  The truth is, kids nowadays sometimes do what they're told, sometimes they don't, and it was always that way.  It's not about culture or parenting techniques.  It's about ratzon, the desire to do something, or not do it.

 

When I explain this to parents, some of them think I'm describing something out of twentieth century Western psychology.  I am.  What they don't realize is that I'm describing a Torah hashkafa as well: you can bend a child's will but you can seldom break it.  The lesson is conveyed through two stories:

 

Let's say an 11-year-old boy wanted to fast on a fast day like Tisha b'Av or Yom Kippur or the 17^th of Tamuz.  He wanted to boast to the world that he had the ability to fast like grown-ups do. Even though his father and his mother would tell him that he would not be able to, and that if he tried to fast he will faint, he would not listen to them. If they would hit him or try to force his mouth open he would cry and scream and not comply with what they wanted. In the end he would fast and it wouldn't bother him in the least; he'd walk around throughout the fast with no difficulty.  He would be able to because he had a strong desire to show off his ability to fast and this desire would give him the ability to bear the burden of the fast.

 

You will also find a seven-year-old able to walk an hour or more to an orchard and it doesn't bother him. This is because of the joy and desire in his heart to visit the orchard.  It enables him do something very difficult without complaint.

 

These are not the children of modern Western parents, the supposedly unique, modern children who don't do what they're told.  These are the children of a very different place and time.  Like the children of today, one of them steadfastly resisted doing something against his will, defying the strenuous efforts of his parents to gain his compliance.  The second demonstrated the ability to do more than you would expect when it got him something he wanted.  They are hypothetical children and they are typical children.  They illustrate a norm, not an exception.

 

The descriptions of these typical children are found in the sefer Od Yosef Chai (Parshas b'chukosai, page 245 in the Salem edition, Yerushalayim 5752).  The Ben Ish Chai is describing the children of his place and time, Bagdad at the end of the 19^th century.

 

The second scenario shows us how you can bend a child's will.  It describes a seven-year-old boy who was willing to walk for over an hour to get to an orchard presumably to enjoy seeing and perhaps even tasting some of the fruit.  We can assume that this same seven-year-old would have strenuously resisted going for a 60 minute walk to nowhere.   I assume that's what would've happened in Baghdad 120 years ago.  I know for sure that it happened in Baltimore 25 years ago.  When we would suggest to our children that we all go for a somewhat lengthy Shabbos walk on a summer afternoon, they always asked us, "to where??€  When the answer was, "to look at the deer on the lawn" (they were lawn ornaments at a home about a mile from ours, not live deer!), or "to stand on the Beltway overpass and watch the trucks go by right underneath our feet!" we always got a far more cheerful response than when we said" just for a walk, to nowhere in particular.?€

 

The first story shows how difficult it can be to break a child's will.  The Ben Ish Chai tells us that even parents who hit and attempt to physically overpower their child to make him eat, will fail if their child is intent on having his way and fasting.

 

I would add another vital lesson from that story.  The parents told their 11 year old that he would not be able to fast, and that if he tried he would faint.  The Ben Ish Chai wrote that the child would not listen to them, and that the child would complete the fast successfully.  At that point, the parents would lose credibility.  Their assurance that their child would be unable to fast and would faint if he tried would turn out to be untrue.

 

Don't tell your child that you know something is going to happen when you really don't.  Don't say, "Don't' climb there, you're going to fall.?€   When they climb there and they don't fall, you lose credibility. 

 

The alternative is to express concern for what you think may happen.  It sounds like this:

 

Esti, don't climb on the railing, it's very high!

 

It's okay, dad, I climbed on it yesterday and I didn't fall.

 

I'm glad you didn't fall yesterday, Baruch Hashem, Esti.  I still don't want you climb on it because I'm afraid you might fall and if you did you could really get hurt.

 

But maybe I won't fall, and it's fun!

 

Right, and maybe you will, so I want you to come down and see where else you can climb where it's padded underneath.

 

Her will is to climb because it's fun.  Climbing is also a good source of strength and stamina which I recommend to parents for their children. 

 

Your will is to keep her safe.   Don't break her will or discount yours.  Bend her will to a place where she can climb safely.

 

 

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 718-344-6575.
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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

August 23rd, 2012

Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

Koheles  (7:20)  makes a cryptic statement: adam ain tzadik ba’aretz asher ya-aseh tov v’lo yech-eta, there is no one who is a tzadik who does well and never sins.

 

Rav Yudin, in Koheles Rabbah, asks how can it be that Koheles describes someone as a tzadik and at the same time describes him as someone who commits sins.  His answer is that we are mistranslating the word yech-eta.  It doesn’t always mean sinning.  He brings a text from Shoftim to show that the word can also mean to ‘miss the mark, to fail.’  Rav Yudin says that Koheles is teaching us that a tzadik who does well is not perfect; he fails sometimes, and he is still a tzadik.

 

Greatness is not measured by how seldom you fall.  It’s measured by how often you rise.  You don’t become a tzadik by achieving perfection.  You become a tzadik by overcoming imperfection, again and again.

 

Unfortunately, we and our children sometimes get the impression that gedolim and tzadikim were born that way and never faltered.  Stories and books that portray gedolim without any description of how they became the paradigms of Torah and middos we wish to emulate, can lead us to despair.  We, who know we how often we fall, despair of ever rising to their heights. 

 

Rav Hutner, z’l, heard this despair in the words of one of his talmidim.  He responded in a letter.  Here, paraphrased, are some excerpts.

 

We tell the stories of their perfection but skip over the struggles that raged within their souls.  We depict them as though they had been created with their stature and character [as we know them].  We are all in awe at the purity of speech of the Chofetz Chaim, z.t.l., but who knows of the battles, struggles and obstacles, the falls and the set-backs that the Chofetz Chaim encountered in his war with his yetzer hara.

 

The result of this is that when a young man of spirit, of desire, of enthusiasm, finds himself stumbling, falling, declining, he believes himself unworthy of dwelling in Hashem’s home¦ But know, my beloved one, that the root of your soul lies not in the tranquility of the yetzer hatov; it lies only in the battles of the yetzer hatov¦ In English there is an expression, ‘lose a battle, win the war.’  Truly you have stumbled, and you will stumble, (and this is not a concern of opening one’s mouth to Satan), and in many battles you will fall defeated¦

 

The wisest of men said, ‘Seven shall a tzadik fall, and rise.’  The fools think that this means that a tzadik can fall seven times and will rise. The wise understand well that this means that the making of a tzadik is the result of the seven times he has fallen. (Quoted in Tuvcha Yabe-u, Chukkas, page 104)

 

The Tiferes Yisrael [Kiddushin 4:77] tells the story of an Arabian king who had heard wondrous things about his contemporary, Moshe Rabeinu.  The king sent his finest artist to Moshe Rabeinu to paint his portrait.  The artist returned with the painting, and the king summoned his wisest men to interpret from the visage what this great man is truly like.  They all agreed that the face in the portrait depicted a person of low character, arrogant, money-hungry, and callous.

 

The king was furious.  He assumed that either his wisest men were actually fools, unable to read a person’s character, or that his finest artist had failed to accurately depict Moshe Rabeinu in the painting thus misleading the wise men.  He wanted to know who had failed him.

 

The king traveled to the camp of the Jews, to see Moshe Rabeinu for himself.  As he rode near, he saw Moshe Rabeinu from a distance, yet close enough to see that the likeness rendered by his royal artist was strikingly accurate.  He respectfully approached Moshe Rabeinu, explained what had happened and why he had come, and that he now realized that his physiognomists were either complete frauds or had chosen to deceive him about Moshe Rabeinu.

 

Moshe Rabeinu told him his suspicions were unfounded; the portrait is an accurate depiction, and the physiognomists’ interpretation is correct.  ‘I am not ashamed to tell you that all of the failings that your wise men discerned in me are bound up in me by nature¦ I, with great strength have harnessed them and turned them into their opposites, a second nature.  And that is why I have respect and honor in the heavens above and on the earth below.’

 

Perhaps Rav Hutner would have been pleased to read:

 

‘The world renowned Rosh HaYeshiva, Rav Moshe Feinstein, was known for his pleasant demeanor; even in the most provocative of situations he would avoid an angry response.

When a yeshiva student questioned him about his serenity however, he made it clear that the quality was not easy to attain, or even natural, to him.  ‘It is years that I have worked on perfecting this trait,’ he said.’ (Ramban: A Letter for the Ages, Artscroll 1989, page 31)

 

You, as a parent, are not, and will never be perfect.  Your struggles may be difficult, but they are signs of growth, not defeat.  The same is true for your children.   During the times of struggle, how do you sustain your optimism, or at least stave off despair?

 

On a good day, be in the goodness; and on a bad day, see.  (Koheles 7:14) 

See what?  See, on a difficult day, what you were able to accomplish on the successful days.  Let that be a source of reassurance that you will do better again.  (Likutei Oros page 25 note 16)

 

We tend to notice failure and gloss over success, in ourselves, and in our children.

 

Slow down and pay attention to the words of guidance you have spoken gently, reassurance you have given, a smile you have shared.  You do well, and you deserve to notice it.  You will continue to notice when you do poorly, but it will be a reminder that you have to keep getting up, not a frightening confirmation that you never stand tall.  Noticing how often you do well makes it possible to succeed at failing.

 

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 718-344-6575.
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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

 

I bat right, throw right, and listen left.

 

I wasn't born that way.  When I was very young, I used to listen with my right ear because I used to hold the telephone in my right hand.

 

Reader (you): I know; when you got older and you wanted to write things down while you were talking on the phone you switched the phone to your left hand to write things down with your right hand while you're talking on the phone.

 

Writer (me): Actually, that's not how it happened.  I wasn't writing anything when I was five years old.  What happened was that I got a severe infection in my right ear and it took so long for my hearing to return, which B?€H it eventually did, that I became accustomed to holding the phone in my left hand and listening to it with my left ear.  To this day it feels awkward for me to hold a phone in my right hand.  I assume that at first it felt awkward to me to hold it in my left hand, although I truly don't remember.

 

I recently read about an interesting experiment which I would like you to try right now.  Fold your hands.  Now fold them again but this time, weave your fingers the other way, so that the thumb that had been on the bottom is now on top.  Perhaps you are more dexterous than me.  When I fold my hands without thinking about it they fall together quite comfortably, but when I decide to fold them the other way, my fingers bang into each other on the way towards folding.  And, once I've managed to fold my hands in the alternative manner, my hands feel strange. 

 

I was reassured to learn that it's not just me. In a study, subjects reported that it took two weeks for them to feel comfortable with their hands folded in the new way.  

 

Can you imagine reminding someone every time they want to fold their hands, to fold their hands the other way from how they naturally have been doing it for years until they become comfortable with folding their hands in this new way?

 

Do you believe that over time something that feels unnatural can begin to feel less awkward, and eventually, literally, become "second nature??€

 

I was reminded to take the phone with my left hand and hold it against my left ear.  The pain I felt when I pressed it against my right ear reminded me.  Over the course of a couple of weeks, it became second nature to me to listen left.  To this day, if, for some reason, I take the phone in my right hand and place it against my right ear it feels weird.  What had been natural to me has been replaced by a second nature that has supplanted my innate proclivity and rendered it awkward.

In addition, there is the advantage that my right hand is free to take notes while I hold the phone in my left hand.   What started out as an accommodation turned out to be an advantage.

 

I did not break the habit of holding the phone in my right hand against my right ear. I replaced that habit by taking the phone in my left hand and placing it against my left ear.  Most of the time, you cannot "break a habit.?€  Broken habits have a remarkable resilience.  They rejuvenate; the broken pieces seamlessly bond and the habit returns unscathed.   Most of the time, you can only stop doing something by doing something else instead.  You don't break habits, you replace them.

 

For two weeks, or more, you have to stop what you impulsively begin to do and consciously replace it with what you've decided to do instead.  Deciding to replace a habit with a different habit doesn't make the original habit go away.  You impulsively begin to do what you've been accustomed to doing and you have to stop yourself in mid-motion or midsentence.  "That's why psychologists advise: If you want to change, the most important thing to do is to learn to strengthen your impulse control. The first step is to become aware of your own behavior. Ask yourself three questions: Is my reaction justified?  Is there an alternative to my impulsive reaction?  And what would the benefits of the alternative be?" (Ideas and and Discoveries, August 2012, page 61)

 

Although the magazine article uses the term "reaction,?€ I would prefer to describe it as a behavior.  I like to distinguish between a reaction, which is a visceral experience that takes place inside of me, versus a behavior which is how I express myself as a result of my visceral experience.  Over the course of time, different behavioral responses do result in calmer internal reactions to the same stimuli.  It's not about saying, "if I didn't get so upset I would respond more calmly.?€  The more realistic approach is "I will respond as though I were calmer, trusting that eventually I will actually remain calmer in these types of situations.?€

 

I told the children to clean up the toys from all over the living room floor and put them into the toy box while I finished what I needed to do in the kitchen.  I also told them that we would all have ice cream when I was finished with what I was doing as long as the living room was cleaned up.  But when I came back from the kitchen 20 minutes later, the living room looked like they had not put anything away all.  I was furious, and I yelled at them, "Forget about the ice cream!  Why don't you listen to me when I tell you to do something??€  I hate yelling, and I wish I could stop, but when they don't listen I get so frustrated and it's really hard for me control myself.

 

Three questions:

Is my reaction justified?  Yes, the emotion of frustration is justified.  The behavior of screaming is not justified.

 

Is there an alternative to my impulsive reaction?  Yes, you can walk away until you figure out how to express your intense frustration in a manner that is measured and purposeful.

 

What would the benefits of the alternative be?  Your children would see what it looks like to express frustration in a manner that is appropriate rather than screaming.  You would also end up with the toys put away sooner than if you were to scream.

 

For a couple of weeks, or more, your impulse will be to scream.  When you slow down and choose to respond differently, you will form a new habit of thinking first and responding in a way that is helpful; helpful for both you and your child.

 

 

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 718-344-6575.

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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

 

One of the lessons Ben Azzai teaches us in Pirkei Avos is al t'hi maflig l'chol davar, which means there is potential value in everything in Hashem's world (Tiferes Yisrael on Avos 4:3).  Maybe we can even derive a musar haskal from professional sports.

 

What is the most impressive sports accomplishment?  How would you decide which trophy is the hardest to win?  Would you base your judgment on the number of teams in the league, the number of games played during the season, the challenge of a team that is a dynasty or an exceptional superstar player?  All of those criteria are subjective, and therefore subject to disagreement.  What objective criterion could there be?

 

In most sports, there is a champion every year.  Every year, someone wins the Davis Cup, the Stanley Cup, the Superbowl, and the World Series.  How would you determine which of those is the most impressive achievement?  I would not attempt to.

 

The most difficult title to win, perhaps, is the one that no one wins, year after year.  Not since Affirmed in 1978 has the Triple Crown of Racing been awarded.   A victory so seldom achieved is an impressive achievement.  And I think there's a musar haskal for each of us, particularly as parents.

 

Rabbi Shimon taught: There are three crowns: the crown of Torah, the crown of kehuna, and the crown of malchus. (Avos 4:13) There is a triple crown for each of us to aspire to.

 

How can each of us aspire to all three crowns?  How many of us are descendants of Dovid Hamelech?  How many of us are kohanim?   And if we can only aspire to the crown of Torah, what is the lesson for us in knowing that there are 2 other crowns?

 

According to Rabi Yitzchak Izaak Chaver, each of the three of the crowns bears significance for every one of us.  The crown of kahuna alludes to service, the positive mitzvos.  The crown of malchus alludes to self-restraint, the negative mitzvos.  The crown of Torah alludes to knowledge, to learn for the sake of Torah. (Ohr Torah, cited by Misivta Avos, kaftor v'ferach page 62)

 

The Ben Ish Chai sees in these three crowns the antidotes to the three threats to our wellbeing cited in Avos 4:21: Rabi Eliezer hakapar says: jealousy, desire, and [the pursuit of] honor remove a person from the world. 

The Ben Ish Chai explains:

These three crowns nullify the three harmful attributes, jealousy, desire, and honor.  The crown of Torah, of which it is said, "jealousy of scholarship increases wisdom" nullifies inappropriate jealousy.  The crown of malchus which requires self-restraint against material desires, as it says, "he shall not take many wives and he shall not acquire many horses" nullifies inappropriate desire. The crown of kehuna, about which is written "honor" as it says, "and you shall make holy vestments for Aharon your brother for honor and glory" nullifies inappropriate pursuit of honor.  (Chasdai Avos, 4:13)  Clearly, these dangers and their antidotes apply to every Jew, king or commoner, Kohen, Levi, and Yisrael.

 

How do these concerns apply to your children?  What are the positive mitzvos, the negative mitzvos, and the Torah in which your child seeks the crowns of achievement?

 

There are three areas of achievement for a child: social, behavioral, and academic.  You want your child to have friends, to cooperate with teachers, and to master the lessons that she is taught.   You want your pre-schooler to play nicely with other children, to sit in the circle when the moreh says it is circle time, and to learn shapes, colors, numbers, and the aleph-bais.  Learning appropriate social skills incorporates positive mitzvahs such as v'ahavta l'reiacha kamocha and b'tzedek tishpote amisecha.   Cooperation with teachers includes the negative mitzvo of al tasur.  Torah encompasses all of the above as well as the study of Torah itself.

 

You want your child to achieve the crown of kahuna, to form friendships by expressing kindness, patience, and generosity, thus earning honor rather than pursuing it.  You want your child to attain the crown of malchus, to learn self-restraint, to reign in impulsive behaviors and desires.  You hope your child will acquire the crown of Torah, that he will be jealous of the knowledge and joy of Torah he sees in others, and strive to gain it for himself.

 

You want your child to win the triple crown.  Sometimes, I hope, he will.  When he falls short in one or two areas, be concerned; don't be discouraged.

 

How do you express concern?  How do you help your child when she is struggling in one of these areas?

 

First, slow down.  Think about what it is that you would like to express to her.  Are you concerned that she seems to be failing socially and struggling with loneliness?  Does she spend "too much time" by herself?  Are you sure it is a struggle for her, that she wishes she could spend more time with friends; or is it that you wish she would spend more time with friends?   Some children are more gregarious than others; some enjoy solitude that looks to you like loneliness.  Tell her what you see, tell her that you are concerned, and ask her what it is like for her.

 

Miri, you spend a lot of time on Shabbos afternoon reading.  I'm concerned that you seem lonely.

Ta, I am so busy with my friends all week, and I love them and enjoy them, but on Shabbos I really like having quiet time to myself.

 

Are you concerned that you son flaunts rules and doesn't care that he gets in trouble?  Slow down.  Tell him that you want him to comply more consistently with the rebbe's expectations and ask him what would help him to do better.

 

Dror, I don't want your rebbe to call me again to tell me that you were talking during class.  What happens that you can't sit quietly?

Mom, I lose the place and when I ask the boy near me where rebbe is up to, I get in trouble.

I would like you to explain this to your rebbe during recess, and ask your rebbe what you should do when you need to find out the place because you lost it.

 

If your child sometimes struggles academically, ask her what she thinks might help her, and with whom she wishes she could work to do better.  Slow down, and give her a day or two to think about it.

 

And most important of all:

 

Notice when your child is succeeding socially, behaviorally, and academically.  Tell them they're doing something incredible, they're winning a triple crown.

 

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 718-344-6575.
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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

 

I do not take sides in arguments between husbands and wives.  But when there was a shidduchim concern, I did.

 

I told my wife she had no business calling the menaheles to complain.  I remember, when I was in yeshiva, the menahel came into our classroom one day and said we should not be telling our parents things that the rebbe said or what he did to get boys to behave.  I remember his words, "What happens in yeshiva, stays in yeshiva!?€  We send our daughters to school and if the school wants us to know something they'll call us.  My wife has no business telling the menaheles what's acceptable and what isn't.

 

And I told my husband that our 8 year old daughter was sobbing uncontrollably over what the teacher said to her in front of the whole class, and when I called the menaheles she defended the teacher and said that if our Devoiry had behaved, the teacher wouldn't have called her a 2 year old in front of anybody.  I told the menaheles that Devoiry's twirling her pencil and dropping it 3 times is not okay, but it doesn't justify the teacher embarrassing her in front of the class.  I don't think the menaheles should condone something that is wrong, and when it hurts my child, it is my business.

 

I remember my first conversation with a teacher whom I will call Miss Horowitz.  She began by telling me she had noticed that during her 7^th grade Chumash class, one of the girls appeared to be daydreaming.   Miss Horowitz said she wanted every girl to stay on track.  I asked her what she did to get this child back on track.

 

Miss Horowitz: I said, "Rivkie, are you paying attention??€

 

Me: And what happened then?

 

Miss Horowitz: She looked at me and then she quickly looked down into her Chumash.

 

Me:  What do you think that was like for Rivkie?

 

I said that very softly.  Miss Horowitz began, very softly, to cry.

 

Miss Horowitz: I didn't mean to hurt her; I certainly never meant to embarrass her.

But now I realize that that's what I did.  I feel terrible that I did that to her.

 

Me:  I see that, and I admire you for caring so deeply about a child's feelings.

 

Miss Horowitz and I worked together for awhile.  She learned discreet ways of helping a child who was daydreaming to get back on track.  The girls in her class came to admire and respect her as deeply as she cared for them.  And by the end of the school year, Miss Horowitz had become a kallah, B?€H.

 

A shidduch.  Marriage.  Children.   In the merit of learning how to guide children without embarrassing them.   

 

Here are the words of the Menoras haMaor:

A person who is able to prevent himself from the sin of shaming another, Hashem will save them from all distress, and from them will come worthy children.  This was the case with Tamar [Yehuda's daughter in-law].  Because she was willing to be burned rather than cause shame to Yehuda, she merited that kings and prophets would descend from her.  (Ner 2, klal 5, section 2; quoted in Mesivta edition of Avos 3:11, yalkut biurim, page 74)

 

The Rambam wrote:

It is forbidden to cause someone shame, especially in front of others.  Even though one is not given malkos for shaming someone, and he is exempt from paying [for the damage], it is a very serious sin. Our sages have said that one who shames another in public has no place in Olam Haba.  Therefore, one must be careful not to cause public shame to anyone, young or old. (Mishna Torah Hilchos Daos 6:8; Chovail u'Mazik 3:7)

 

Be careful not to.  It is not enough to say afterwards, "I didn't mean to.?€

 

Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach, zt'zl, according to his family, worked on making sure he was able to prevent himself from reacting harshly to a child.  They tell the following story:

I once went into [Rav Shlomo Zalman's] room before he gave shiur in the Yeshiva.  I saw him sitting and studying the sefer Shaarei Teshuva.  He explained, "Sometimes the students say something silly, and I'm afraid that I might react to them in a way that would hurt them.  That's why I need to study musar.?€

Rav Shlomo Zalman's talmidim recall:

Even when he was "kashe k'barzel" the issue was never the child himself.  In his words of correction, there was never a trace of personal [debasement] or belittling.

(Kuntres Nisivos Shlomo, page 71)

 

Rav Pam, zt'zl wrote the following (my translation of Atara LaMelech, pg. 90):

There is no more permission for parents or teachers [to cause a child to feel shame] than for anyone else, unless it is for the purpose of chinuch or musar for the good of the child.  But it is far more common that the damage caused by this is greater than the benefit. [emphasis mine]

Rav Pam added that because of the magnitude of the issue, careful deliberation and tranquility must precede a parent or teacher's words to a child.

 

What does the magnitude of the issue of shaming a child have to do with shidduchim?   Here are the words of Rav Shteinman, Shlita, as recorded by his talmidim: (Mizekainim Etbonan, page 39)

We are anguished by the difficulties so many have in shidduchim.  Many young women serve as teachers.  A teacher of young children finds it extremely difficult not to sometimes err in hurting or insulting a student.  [The laws of conduct] bain adam l'chaveiro are very stringent.  Who knows if this isn't the reason that she hasn't found her zivug?€¦ Hashem yishmarenu. 

 

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 718-344-6575.

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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

Listening is the source of bracha.

 

Es habracha asher tishma-un.

That is to say, by way of analogy, that a person who has, G-d forbid, some type of illness and he is healed from it, he is always vigilant lest chalila, the malady flare up within him again. So it is, that each person must be vigilant and listen to his internal messages; is he doing Hashem's mitzvos to the best of his ability or has,  God forbid, something improper flared up in him.  This is what is meant by the expression Es habracha asher tishma-un.  It means that it is a bracha to listen carefully to yourself, to reflect on and analyze how well you are doing Hashem's mitzvos to be sure that you are not lacking in your performance of them.  V'haklala im lo tishma-u: this means that klala could result if you don't pay attention to yourselves.  Therefore, every person must be vigilant always and be conscious of himself every moment for this is the source of bracha for himself and for his children forever.

(Noam Elimelech Parshas Re-eh; page 92b in Imrei Shefar edition, 5720)

 

How carefully do you monitor yourself in different settings?   How careful are you to monitor yourself and reflect on the distinctions you make?  Especially when it means the opportunity for bracha for yourself and your children, or chas v'shalom, klala?

 

Shimi and Raizy seemed like very mentchlich people.  They spoke softly, they waited for one another to finish speaking, and they looked relaxed.  I asked them what they wanted to talk about.  Raizy began.

 

Our friends think we are a very put-together couple. We do consider ourselves quite refined and we are generally perceived of as pleasant and easy-going.  So my husband was mortified at what happened last week and that's why we finally agreed that we need to get help, so that's why we're here.

 

What happened last week that your husband became mortified?

 

Shimi, why don't you tell him yourself?

 

Raizy, it was your idea to come here and I agreed, but I really don't want to talk about what happened.  I mean, I do want to talk about what happened but it's really hard to talk about it.  Why don't you tell him and I'll just listen.

 

Truthfully, Shimi, I don't want to repeat what you said.  If you could say it to our daughter why can't you say it to Rabbi Ackerman?

 

Because, Raizy, there are things I will say in the privacy of our home that I won't say in public.

 

I wasn't sure which hashkafic lesson to share with them.  I hadn't even heard what he said to his daughter that he didn't want to repeat to me, yet I already knew that there were some messages from Chazal that might be helpful here.

 

For example: If there is doubt about whether something is tumei (unfit) and it was found a public place you can be lenient, but if it was found in a private place you have to be stringent.   How does this apply to tumas sifa-sayim, improper speech?  It seems reasonable to me that if something is doubtfully appropriate to say, the laws of tumah imply that we should be more stringent about saying it in the privacy of our home than we are in public.  In other words, if you're not sure that you would say it in public you should be very sure not to say it in private.

 

One more example.  The words of Michah, v'hatznaya leches im Elokecha, are usually translated "and walk humbly with your L-rd.?€  (Michah 6:8)  The Ramah, as elucidated by the Mishna Brurah, teaches us an interesting interpretation of these words.  He explains that this can be taken to mean that even when you are b'hatznah, in the privacy of your own home, you should conduct yourself with the self-consciousness that you have in front of others in public, because you are always in the presence of Hashem.  (Orach Chayim, 1, Mishna Brurah 7)

Shivisi Hashem l'negdi tamid, be always aware of Hashem's presence.  When you know you are in Hashem's presence, you become more vigilant.  You listen to yourself, you monitor yourself more carefully.  (Orach Chayim, 1:1)

 

Before I had the opportunity to share any hashkafic lesson with them, Shimi spoke.

 

Look, I needed to make a point and that's what I had to say to get her attention to teach her what she needed to learn so that's what I needed to do. I am her father and it's a mitzva on me to teach my daughter so I did.

 

I asked him gently: What did you say to her?

 

He didn't answer my question.   I asked him a different one.

 

Raizy thought you were mortified?  How did that happen?

 

It happened because right after I yelled at our 11 year old daughter, I went downstairs and saw my machatanim and my married son and his wife standing just inside the front door like they had just come in.  From the look on Raizy's face and theirs I got the impression that they had all heard what I had said upstairs.

 

So Raizy saw that you were mortified because what you thought you said in private to your 11-year-old daughter turned out to have been said in public.  I don't understand how something that's appropriate for the ears of your 11-year-old daughter could be so inappropriate in front of your extended family and me.

 

Shimi apparently thought that nival peh was justified in the service of doing the mitzvah of teaching his child.   There is an expression: minuval b'reshus haTorah.  It is not to be taken literally.  The Torah does not condone the use of inappropriate language to teach Torah lessons.  On the contrary.  Listen to yourself carefully. 

 

Make sure that whenever you speak to your child to guide her in becoming a bas Torah, you speak like a ben Torah.

 

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 718-344-6575.

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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

 

I enjoy hearing from you, dear reader.  I like to hear that you are more positive with your children, noticing and acknowledging things that they do well.  I appreciate it when you tell me that your home is a calmer and more pleasant place for you and for your children.   As I've said to many of you, I will accept my share of the credit and I want you to accept yours.

 

I will also accept your constructive criticism, and I am going to respond to some right now.  You complained that in a recent article I wrote what NOT to do, and WHY not to do it, but I didn't suggest what you might do instead.  You said:

 

In a recent article, you wrote that it is important to be truthful even when a lie would make things simpler, and you gave this example:

 

"There's no more candy in the cabinet.?€

There is more candy in the cabinet but your daughter can't see it.  You don't want to tell her the truth.  You don't want to tell her that there is more candy in the cabinet and that you're not willing to give it to her.  You'd rather lie and say there is no more and hope she believes you.  You don't want to tell her the truth because you're sure she'll argue with you, cry, or throw a tantrum.  It's easier to just lie.

 

You may disagree with the principle that "lying is wrong, period.?€  I brought support to that principle from HaKsav v'Hakabala and Limudei Nisan on Braishis 18:12-15 in the article to which you responded.  Here are some more makoros for this principle:

 

[Distance yourself] from anything that could lead someone to lying, as chazal have taught us: be careful with your words lest from them, others learn to lie. (Siporno on Shemos 23:7).

 

Many people fail to understand that the prohibition against lying applies even in a situation where you do not cause any harm to anyone else.  And even those who understand that the prohibition applies in all situations, many of them don't understand the basis of this prohibition. They mistakenly think that it is one of the laws of the Torah that there is such an action as "speaking falsely?€ similar to the prohibition against eating chazir and other prohibitions in the Torah.  Actually, when we look in the Torah and the words of our sages that explain the matter, it becomes clear to us that the prohibition against lying is different and not comparable to other Torah prohibitions?€¦ The Torah does not just prohibit the action of speaking falsehood.  Rather, the Torah gives a general prohibition against falsehood and everything related to it.  That is to say, a person has to feel hatred in his heart towards falsehood, so that falsehood becomes disgusting in his eyes?€¦ thus we see that a "liar" is defined as someone who doesn't hate falsehood, and will therefore resort to falsehood for his benefit?€¦ From this we learn the extent to which a person must distance himself even from the very smallest point of falsehood.  (Chidushei haLev on Shemos 23:7).

 

Parents should not make the mistake of thinking that their young children don't understand what's going on around them.  For example, if a mom opens the door to a meshulach and says that her husband isn't home [when he actually is], she needs to realize that her child playing nearby both heard and understood what just happened: his mother lied.  She has to tell the truth, that the father is home.  And when a father signs a note that his son has reviewed his studies at home even though it's not entirely true, he has taught his son the opposite quality from truthfulness.  (Aitzos v'Hadrachos vol 2, pages 36-37).

 

You may still think lying is justified, sometimes.  Perhaps you have sources upon which you base your point of view.  Two dangers remain.  The Yalkut Mai'am Lo'ez explains the first concern:

 

To maintain peace is the only reason to permit falsehood, since the intention is to avoid strife, and not because one wants to lie.  Yet it is still forbidden to do this regularly, for you will become accustomed to lying, and the yetzer hara, a master craftsman, will enable you to find a justification every time you choose to lie.  (Mimayanos ha'Netzach on Shemos 23:7)

 

The second danger is that when you get caught in your lie, what is going to happen? 

 

To paraphrase Koheles (10:20) Even in your mind, don't' curse the king, in the privacy of your bedroom, don't curse the rich; for a bird of the air shall carry the voice, and that which has wings shall tell the matter.  

 

And Hillel cautioned us:  Don't say something that you don't want heard, because it will be heard.  [Pirkei Avos 2:4]

 

What is going to happen when she finds out that there is more candy in the cabinet; or in some other situation, and there will be one, she realizes that you lied?  You have modeled for her that it is okay to lie in order to avoid an unpleasant situation.   I'm sure you didn't mean to teach her that.  I'm equally sure that she will learn that from you.  Perhaps you want to explain to her that it is okay for you to lie to avoid an unpleasant situation, but you expect her to tell the truth, no matter how unpleasant she imagines the outcome will be.  I think that would be unfair, and unrealistic.

 

But you didn't suggest what to say to my daughter after I tell her that there is candy in the cabinet.  I have a reason for telling her that there is no more candy.  I know that if she can see the candy or if I tell her that it's there and I won't give it to her she'll ask me, "why not??€  If I tell her it's because we're going to be eating supper soon, she'll say that she'll eat your supper anyway so I should give her the candy. If I tell her that she already had candy she will say she only wants one more piece just one more please, please, please.  If I just say "no because I said so" she'll say I'm always mean to her and I let her brother have candy whenever he wants it.  This debate will go on and on and I just don't have time for it.

 

You don't have time for "it??€  What is "it" that you don't have time for?

 

The truthful alternative is to take the time to look at her and say, "no, I will not let you have candy now, what can you do until suppertime (or what can you nibble on instead of candy)??€   She'll just whine and keep asking?   You can breathe deeply and calmly repeat yourself until she realizes that you mean what you just said because you are truthful.

 

 

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 718-344-6575.

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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

Rochel felt overwhelmed by her child's homework.

She wondered how teachers expected her daughter to so much Parsha, Halacha, math, science, English, and social studies homework every night. 

She watched her fifth grader sit down to it, not know where to begin, and start to cry.

As she described it to me, Rochel began to cry.

When I ask her to start with Parsha, she wants me to explain why Rashi said what he said, but I don't always know how to explain it.

And the math is taught differently from the way I learned it.  When I try to explain it to her the way I learned it, she tells me she has to do it the way she was taught, even though we arrive at the same answer.

Here's an answer that I've arrived at that Rochel and many other parents have found helpful.

You sound as though you're not sure that the amount of homework assigned to your daughter is realistic to expect of her every night.  Before we consider the expectations the school has of your daughter, let's think about the expectations you have for yourself.

Many parents think that they should know all of the things their child is learning in fifth grade.  It might be reassuring and perhaps surprising for you to sit down with your husband and the parents of other children in your daughter's class and browse through some of her textbooks.  Even if we had been taught all the things that children now learn in fifth grade, and I'm not sure we were, few of us remember very much of it. 

When you let go of this unrealistic expectation for yourself, you'll be more relaxed when you learn together with your daughter instead of being embarrassed to admit you don't know everything she's learning in school.

Another way to reduce your daughter's tension and yours when it's time to do homework is to spend 10 minutes, just one time, completing the following assignment with her:

My Homework Place

Describe your homework place by answering the following questions:

1.   When I do my homework, where do I sit?  How comfortable is it? If it's not that comfortable, what would make it more comfortable?

2.   Where do I put my textbook, my notebook, my paper? If it's too cramped, where could I spread it out better?

3.   What sounds do I hear while I'm doing my homework (siblings, parents, music, sounds from outdoors, what else)?  If the sounds are distracting to me, what can I do?

4.   What do I see while I'm doing my homework?  Who comes into my field of vision?  How can I avoid being interrupted?

5.   What do I smell while I'm doing homework?

6.   What skills can I use to overcome the distractions when I can't prevent them or escape them?

7.   How long do I work until my break?  What do I do during my break?  How long is my break?

8.   To whom do I turn when I need help?

Inviting your child to think about the answers to these questions helps her plan to succeed at doing her homework by identifying some of the things that have made it hard for her in the past.  By helping her to identify or create a better environment in which to do her homework you make it likely that she'll find it more pleasant to work on her homework, or at least, less stressful.

 

How did your daughter answer question 8, to whom do I turn when I need help?   Now that you've let go of the mistaken idea that you have to know everything a fifth grader is learning, ask your daughter whom else she thinks she could turn to for help.  Resist the urge to offer her any suggestions.  Give her a day or two to find out who helps her friends with their homework, and to decide who she wishes would help her.

Let's imagine what might happen next. She might come back to you and say that she doesn't know who else can help her. Now you get to offer suggestions.  Some possibilities include a classmate to work with over the phone, a tutor, or a grandparent.

What happens when your daughter says, "I can't ask that person to help me.?€  What do you say to her now?  Let's look at a couple of ways this conversation might play out.

 

Mom: Why can't you?

Daughter: Because I just can't.

Mom: Of course you can, why won't you?

Daughter: You don't understand.  Never mind, I'll just do it the best I can.

 

That did not turn out very well.  Let's try this conversation a different way.

 

Daughter:  I can't ask that person to help me.

Mom:  You sound really uncomfortable with the idea.  What do you think she'll say to you when you ask her?

Daughter:  She'll think I'm not smart enough to do my homework without her help.

Mom:  And she'll think there's something wrong with you, something bad about you needing help with something?

Daughter:  Well not exactly bad about me, just that I should be able to do it without help.

Mom:  Really? According to whom?

Daughter:  I guess according to me.  You don't think so?  You think it's okay that I need help with my homework?

Mom:  Yes, I think it's okay to need help with your homework, and it's courageous to have the humility to ask for it.

You will be even more gentle and supportive when you remember how hard it was for you to accept your own inability to accomplish what was asked of you: to be the all-knowing, always available homework helper your daughter had wished you could be.

 

What if you think that the school is giving your daughter too much homework? What is the best way for you to express that concern?

 

First, tell your daughter that you would like to call her teacher because you think that there is too much homework being assigned.  If your daughter asks you not to call her teacher, ask her to help you understand what she is concerned about.  You may be able to agree with your daughter on a way to express yourself to her teacher that your daughter is okay with.  You can choose to call her teacher even if your daughter is not okay with it, but there is some risk.  Your daughter may be reluctant to tell you about a problem next time if she's afraid you'll attempt solve it in a way that she fears will have some unpleasant outcome for her.

 

If you do call her teacher, be prepared to calmly and objectively describe the situation as you see it, rather than sounding critical and judgmental.  Write down the specific number of pages to read, questions to answer, math problems to solve, and other components of an actual night's homework, and how long it took your daughter to do it, and read it to the teacher.  Then say that it seems to you that it was too much for your child, and ask the teacher what she thinks about it.  If the teacher thinks it is a reasonable amount of homework, do not argue.  Instead, ask what strategies and techniques the teacher can suggest that might make the homework more manageable for you and for your child.  Then, sit down again with your daughter and reassure her that you and she will do your best to meet the teacher's expectations.

 

If her teacher agrees with you and says she will reduce the amount of homework, be sure to call her in a week or two to thank her when you see the change take effect.

Finally, if her teacher offers to make adjustments to the homework expectations for your daughter individually, ask your daughter what she thinks about it.  She may find this accommodation embarrassing because she perceives it as a confirmation of her inability to accomplish what some of her classmates can accomplish.  See if you can help her accept and value herself, even when her strengths differ.  If your daughter finds this very painful, you may want to offer her the opportunity to meet with a therapist.

 

Remember, you have learned that you cannot always give your daughter everything she needs.  What you can do is help her find it from others whom you trust.

 

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 718-344-6575.

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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

Sticks and stones may break my bones / But words will never hurt me.

That's a lie.  Okay, it's not completely false, it's a half-truth.  Sticks and stones can break bones.  But words can hurt, too; very painfully.

We've come a long way in protecting our children from the sticks and stones of the playground.  As a child, when I lost my balance and fell off the end of the sliding pond, I landed on concrete.  When my grandchildren tumble off the slide, they land on something more akin to rubber. 

So we've made sliding ponds safer.

Have you even seen a see-saw lately?

According to an article about them, "One problem with the seesaw's design is that if a child allows himself/herself to hit the ground suddenly after jumping, or exits the seesaw at the bottom, the other child may fall and be injured. For this reason, seesaws are often mounted above a soft surface such as foam or wood chips.?€  Really?  Not when I was a child.  We had concrete underneath us.  We would attempt to catapult the other kid off by landing as hard we could.  We thought that was fun.  And it was!   But it was dangerous, and it is a good thing that we have learned how to cushion our children from these physical dangers.

Cushioning your children against emotional danger is important, too.  We can learn how to do that from how Kevlar^?® is made and what to expect from it.

Kevlar^?® is one of the materials used in the manufacture of bulletproof vests.  It is both the way that Kevlar^?® is made and the use of many layers of fiber that enable the vest to protect the wearer from small-caliber handgun and shotgun projectiles, and small fragments from explosives.

Bulletproof vests do not render their wearers impervious to bullets.  The vest can prevent bullet penetration, but the wearer still absorbs some of the bullet's energy. Even without penetration, bullets contain enough energy to cause blunt force trauma at the point of impact.   There is some pain and bruising, but the blow is sufficiently cushioned to assure survival without permanent damage.

 

What is the material that cushions a child from verbal projectiles?  It's called self-esteem, and it also requires layers.   How do you weave a vest of self-esteem?  You esteem your child.  Yes, it's a transitive verb.  You wrap them in layers of effective protective material.  The operative words are "effective" and "layers.?€

 

Kevlar^?® is an effective material, and it still requires layers.  Many layers of fluff do not a bullet-proof vest make.   One layer of Kevlar^?® doesn't protect anyone, either.  Similarly, the vest of self-esteem you weave for your child requires your knowing what is effective material, and what is fluff.

 

I'll give you some examples of each.

Mendy was assigned to draw a sketch of the Heichal, showing the Shulchan, the Menorah, and the Mizbach Hazahav, with at least one kohen in his bigdei kahuna.  He used colored pencils on an 8.5 by 11 inch sheet of copy paper.  The colors he chose bore no resemblance to the actual colors of the kalim and the bigadim.  The Menorah he drew has tiny yet accurately placed kaftor v'ferach designs, and the Shulchan shows some detail.  The stick figure kohen's begadim are, to put it generously, nondescript.

If you were to say to Mendy, "Good job," you would be handing him fluff.  It's only effective when it's specific.  "Good job" is accurate but too vague.

If you were to say to Mendy, "Wow, what an artist you are, that's amazing," you, again, would be handing him fluff.  It's only effective when it's real.  This is worse than "good job."  This is simply untrue, and he knows it.  Don't risk losing credibility.

 

What would be an effective esteeming of Mendy for his art work?  A specific, accurate statement of what he did well.  Such as: You made a really detailed Menorah and Shulchan even though you had to work with such a small paper, Mendy!  It must have been hard to get all of those balls and flowers onto the branches.  And I see you drew the pans for each of the loaves.  You did those really well!

Every time you esteem your child with a specific and accurate statement of what he has done well you provide him with the effective raw material of self-esteem.  Your child's self-esteem doesn't come from your child's self.  Your child weaves a vest of self-esteem out of the material you provide.  The quality of that material, and the number of layers you provide, become your child's cushion against the verbal blows he will sustain.

 

You don't want him to deflect the things you say to him that he finds unpleasant?   I agree.  I don't want him to be impervious to criticism and correction.  But remember: cushions don't deflect.  They absorb some of the force and make the impact tolerable.   When you criticize your child, I'm sure it is to help him grow, not to crush him.  Your child can comfortably grow from your corrections when you've helped him stand tall with your authentic praise.

 

There's one more comparison I'd like to draw between the properties of Kevlar^?® and the cushioning effect of healthy self-esteem.  Bullet proof vests offer little protection against blows from sharp implements, such as knives and arrows.  The impact of these objects can puncture the fiber layers of most bullet-resistant fabrics.   Sharp words also cut deep, penetrating and destroying layers of self-esteem carefully built. 

Words of acknowledgement, support, and encouragement are powerful tools for planting and building your child's self-esteem.  Words can hurt, too; very painfully.   Chachamim, hizharu b'divraichem.  Use your words carefully.

 

 

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 718-344-6575.

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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

 

When is it okay to lie?

 

Very, very rarely.

 

Hashem knows when and how to go about that.  Hashem told Avraham Aveinu that Sarah Eimainu referred to herself as "old," when actually she had referred to him as old, and Rashi says that shina hakasuv mipnai hashalom, Hashem wanted to preserve their shalom bayis. (Braishis 18:12-15)  Rav Nisan Alpert, ZT'L in Limudei Nisan, reminds us that such distortions of the truth must be very carefully limited.

 

In Haksav v'Hakabala, Rav Yaakov Zvi Meklenburg points out a different lesson from this episode.  Sarah is accused of laughing at the news that she will bear a child to Avraham, and she denies having laughed.  The Torah concludes the story with the words, "no, you did laugh!?€  What does this mean?  Are we to understand that Sarah was accused of laughing, denied it, and the Torah concludes by saying that told an outright lie?  No, she did not.  She is criticized nonetheless.  Here is Rav Meklenburg's analysis:

 

Some explain it that Hashem told Avraham that Sarah had laughed saying to herself, "How could I bear a child now that I am so old?" referring to Sarah's statement "After I have aged (acharei bilosi) I will bear a child??€  If we understand it this way [that Hashem did not alter her words; she was describing herself, not her husband], then Sarah's statement, "I did not laugh" is an outright lie.  However, according to our sages who say that Hashem changed her words and told Avraham she had laughed because of her age when actually she had laughed because of his age, this teaches us that it was acceptable to alter the truth to preserve peace?€¦. Therefore she did not lie.

It is comparable to the following situation.  Reuven said, "I will eat grapes today, but I will not eat figs.?€  Reuven then heard Shimon say to someone else, "why did Reuven say that he will not eat grapes today?"  Upon hearing this, Reuven said, "I swear that I did not say that I will not eat grapes today!" Can we say that Reuven lied?  It is the same thing; when Sarah heard the words of the angel saying that she laughed because she didn't believe that she could bear a child, she replied that she did not laugh.  This was not a lie. [She had not laughed at the possibility that she could bear a child.  She had laughed at hearing that Avraham could father a child.]

So why does the Torah end this story by saying that Sarah denied laughing yet she had laughed?  Because even though she did not lie, she was not entirely truthful.  By her general statement, "I did not laugh," she implied that she had not laughed at all.  We learn a very important lesson from this: the extent to which people of distinction have to guard themselves from the trap of falsehood, even from saying something that is not an outright lie.  If there is an implication in yours words that is not entirely truthful, you should distance yourself from it.

 

People of distinction?  To whom is that addressed?  In Hebrew, the term is anshei maala, people of high caliber.  That would include every one of us who hopes that our children look up to us.  Every one of us is cautioned to be careful not only not to lie, but to be entirely truthful.  We ponder that thought in our meditations at the end of every Amidah.  We don't say, elokai n'tzor lishonei ma'rah u'siforsei midabair sheker; we ask for help in avoiding mirmah, distortions, half truths, deceit.

 

Hashem knows when to be mishane mipnai hashalom. 

 

We need to be as careful as the first generation amora Rav was.

 

The gemara (Yevamos 63a) tells the story:

 

Rav was constantly tormented by his wife.  If he told her, 'Prepare me lentils', she would prepare him small peas; [and if he asked for] small peas, she prepared him lentils.  When Rav's son Hiyya was older he would tell his mother [his father's instructions] in the reverse order. [e.g. If Rav told Hiyya that he wanted lentils, Hiyya told his mother that his father had asked for peas.  As a result, she prepared what Rav had actually wanted, thinking he wanted something else.]  "Your mother,?€ Rav once remarked to him, "has improved!?€  'It was I', the other replied, "who reversed [your orders] to her." Rav said to his son, "This is what people say, 'Your own offspring teaches you reason.'  You, however, must not continue to do so for it is said, "They have taught their tongue to speak lies?€¦" (Yermiahu 9:4)

 

We might think that the improvement in the relationship between Rav and his wife would justify Hiyya's lies to his mother.  After all, he wasn't lying to gain benefit for himself or to shield himself from punishment.  He was just "adjusting the truth" to help his parents get along.  His father told him that although it was a reasonable solution, it was not acceptable.

 

Here are two examples of lies that provide reasonable solutions and are not acceptable.   

 

"There's no more candy in the cabinet.?€

There is more candy in the cabinet but your daughter can't see it.  You don't want to tell her the truth, and tell her that you're not willing to give it to her because you're sure she'll argue with you, cry, or throw a tantrum.  It's easier to just lie.  It will become a lot harder when she finds out that there is more candy in the cabinet, and that you believe it is okay to lie in order to avoid an unpleasant situation.   I'm sure you didn't mean to teach her that.  I'm equally sure that she will learn that from you.

 

"I told you that I would play a game with you when you finished your supper, and you did finish your supper, but now that you called your brother a bad name, I won't play with you.?€

It may seem reasonable to you to fail to keep your word because you have a justification, but it's not acceptable because your child will learn how to justify breaking his promises.

 

Keep your word.  Tell your child that you will play the game with her because she did eat her supper.  Tell her you'll play the game after she tells you how she will better express herself to her brother next time, instead of calling him a bad name.

 

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 718-344-6575.

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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

 

I was recently interviewed on a radio program.  You can listen to the interview at HealthWatchRadio.com or download an MP3 recording of my conversation with Dr. Jacques Doueck to listen to at your leisure.  In the meantime, here are the ten questions Dr. Doueck asked, and a brief version of my responses.

 

You've said that there are 2 words that help parents to be more effective, and many parents find them easy to remember and very hard to do.  What are the 2 words?  

The two words are "Slow Down.?€  Parents find it hard to slow down when they are feeling threatened by disrespect, non-compliance, and chaos.  When they are able to slow down, the following usually happens.  They realize that there is no threat even if a child is disrespectful, non-compliant, or chaotic (as in having a tantrum).  Sometimes they figure out that their child is disrespectful because he doesn't know how to express himself respectfully, he is unable to comply rather than willfully defiant, and he is unfocused rather than chaotic.   Parents understand the concept, but get flustered in the situation.  It takes preparation and practice.

 

You teach parents the Ben Ish Chai's commentary on the expression in Pirkei Avos "al t'hi dan y'chidi.?€   How does that apply to parents?  

When a child doesn't do what you asked her to do, you see an unmet expectation.   How you judge or interpret that is up to you.  Most of us interpret what we see very quickly based on past experiences or pre-conceptions, and we're sometimes right.  In his recent book "Thinking, Fast and Slow?€, Nobel laureate Daniel Kahneman shares his research on how useful our first impressions can be and how often they're wrong.   Assuming that your child ignored you may be your first impression when you see that what you asked her to do didn't get done.   The Ben Ish Chai cautions us to think about other possibilities that would move us towards being dan l'kaf zchus.   From that mindset, you are less likely to feel threatened and more likely to offer help instead of criticism to your child.

 

What is the most common issue you hear from parents of pre-school children?  Bedtime, for them and for older children, too.  Sibling rivalry is a very common concern, as well.

 

What do parents of teenagers ask you about most often? 

How can you trust them: about cellphones; about where they're going, with whom they're going, what are they planning on doing when they get there.

 

How do you get a child to do what he needs to do, to motivate him? 

If your child believes that he needs to do something and he isn't doing it, he'll probably ask you for help.  If he doesn't think he needs to do something, and you want him to do it, that doesn't mean he needs to, it means you want him to.   Sometimes you can convince a child that he needs to do something because you want him to.  When you cannot convince him, you can attempt to motivate him with incentives and disincentives, once you've ascertained that he is capable of doing what you want him to do and capable of doing it as soon as you want him to do it.

 

When is it okay to bribe a child and when should you not have to anymore? 

We bribe people to do bad things, that's what the word means.  We offer incentives to elicit desired behaviors.  The Shalah hakodesh describes this in detail. (Shaar haOsios, 4:22. Volume 1, page 287 in the Oz Vehodor 1993 edition)

 

You have been conducting a weekly men's parenting group for almost 2 years now.  Don't women do most of the parenting, and men provide the food and shelter?

That's what the Bnai Gad and the Bnai Reuven thought.  Moshe Rabeinu taught them to think about it differently.  (Rashi Bamidbar 32:16)

 

But what happens when husband and wife aren't on the same page about parenting? 

They don't need to be.  They need to respect each other's page.  Children adjust well to differing expectations and rules.  They struggle when parents argue, especially when it's about them, and children usually assume it's about them.

 

What are some books that you recommend for parents? 

Pele Yo-aitz is a good start, particularly the sections on hakaah (hitting), yishuv hadaas (peace of mind) and hagaddah (telling over in order to draw interest).  Tomer Devorah teaches us what to aspire to as parents emulating Hashem.

Zereah u'Binyan b'Chinuch (Planting & Building, Raising a Jewish Child) by Rav Shlomo Wolbe zt'l describes specific situations that arise and how to address them in addition to basic principles of parenting.

 

When do parents get to "retire" from parenting, sit back, and enjoy the nachas?  According to the Alshich hakodesh and Rav Moshe Feinstein zt'l (Darash Moshe) on the beginning of parshas Va'yeishev you never retire from parenting, even as you enjoy the nachas from your grown children and theirs!

 

 

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 718-344-6575.

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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

 

When Shmuli Fein married Yitty Schmecker they've should've known that their kids would incredibly picky eaters, worse than lachanophobics!

 

The Fein-Schmecker children, as their name suggests, are finicky about their food.  Lachanophobics have anxiety attacks at the sight of vegetables; their plight is real, not a matter of preference or choice.  Feinschmeckers have strong preferences about all kinds of foods, and their parents do have choices.   Here are some choices that I explored with the parents of a three-year-old girl:

 

Mom:  I can't understand why Mirel won't eat apples. The Golden Delicious apples that I've given her were so sweet; I know because I ate some of them myself.  I peeled one and gave it to her so she could eat it herself, but all she did was take a bite, make a face and spit it out.

Dad: I told my wife to introduce the apple to Mirel more gradually.  I suggested that she cut up little pieces into Mirel's breakfast cereal, or make some apple sauce and put some cinnamon sugar onto it.

Me: And what happened?

Mom: Mirel ate the cereal and left every piece of apple in the bowl, and the entire apple sauce with cinnamon and sugar mixture ended up in the garbage.

Dad:  Well, that's because you always give in to her!

Mom: And you never give in to her, you just make everything a battle until you walk out the door leaving me with a child crying over something I wouldn't have made such a big deal out of to begin with.

Dad:  You don't think it's a big deal that she won't eat fruit?

Me:  One second; slow down.  How many different fruits have you offered Mirel?

Mom: She loves cherries.

Dad:  Wonderful, that's good for two months out of the year.

Me:  You think it's wonderful that she likes cherries, or you think it's wonderful that cherries are only available two months out of the year?

Dad:  I was being sarcastic.

Me:  What do you imagine it's like for your wife when you respond with sarcasm to something she said?

Dad:  You're right, I shouldn't be sarcastic.  I'm sorry, Chavie.

Mom:  I'm mochel, and you're right, Benzion, cherries aren't enough fruit for Mirel to be having.  I don't know what else to do with the apple so she'll eat it.

Me:  Chavie, you said that Mirel won't eat apples.  How many different types of apples have you offered her?

Mom:  I've only offered her Golden Delicious apples. They're the sweetest apples I've ever had and I think it's the only kind we ever have in our house.

Me:  What would you think of offering her some different types of apples? Personally, I don't like Golden Delicious apples. I like Macintosh and Granny Smith apples, perhaps because they're tart and not sweet.

 

They were quite surprised to find that Mirel enjoyed Granny Smith apples, the tarter the better.  It was a choice that had not occurred to them and a preference they certainly did not share with their daughter.  But in this case it was easy to accommodate her.

 

When it comes to dinner vegetables, it isn't as simple.  You probably don't mind having four or five different kinds of apples and some other types of fruits in your fruit bin so your children can choose the kind they prefer.  How often, however, are you willing to prepare a different vegetable for each of your children?

 

Here too, you have some choices.  The best choice is usually ask to your child what would help her eat some of whatever vegetable she doesn't like.  If she wants to carefully cut her string beans into small pieces and eat a small piece on each forkful of chicken or potato, what's the problem for you?  If you think peas and carrots smothered in mustard is strange but your son finds it more palatable that way, why should that bother you?  If you're concerned that he'll pour half a bottle of mustard over his vegetables and refuse to eat it because it doesn't taste good, set aside a small portion of his peas and carrots, help him add some mustard, and let him taste it.  If he doesn't like it, discard the rest of that small portion, and see what he can figure out to help him eat the rest of his vegetables, perhaps with ketchup or salad dressing or chumus.   These are the types of choices you can help your child identify that might help her eat more of the foods you want her to eat.

 

Some parents I have worked with found it helpful to take a different approach.  They give each child a plate with a protein portion, a starch portion, and a vegetable portion.  For example, each plate might have a small piece of chicken, a small portion of rice, and a small portion of string beans.  They will give their children seconds of anything they want as soon as they have finished all three of the first portions. 

 

The wording is important.  They do not say, "You may not have more rice until you finish your string beans and your chicken.?€   They say, "You may have more rice as soon as you finish your string beans and your chicken.?€

 

The format "yes you may when you have met my expectation" is more effective than the format "no you may not until you do what I want.?€  It points a child toward success and describes your desire to acknowledge it, rather than pointing to failure and the punishment or withdrawal of something they want that you will impose until they comply.

 

Imposing your will until they comply.  Or helping them succeed at meeting your expectation.  Many parents have told me they have learned that the latter is a far more effective form of parenting.

 

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 718-344-6575.
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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

 

Parents spend a lot time preparing their home for Pesach.  I hope you will also spend time preparing your children for Pesach. 

How do you pique your child’s interest in a discussion about Pesach?  I suggest that you ask your child what it’s like to be bossed around all the time, made to do things you don’t want to do and that are too hard for you.  He probably knows what that’s like.  Then ask him what it’s like when he finally gets to do whatever he feels like doing.  If he says “that has never happened,” don’t argue or give examples of when you think it did happen.  Accept his perception of reality and ask him what he would do if that did ever happen.  Then ask him what happens when you do whatever you want but there are no rules; how do you know how to play, how to get along, what works best to get the things you want?

Now you can say, “the Yidden in Mitzrayim were bossed around all the time, made to do things they didn’t want to do and that were too hard for them.  Then Hashem freed them and they needed to know what to do with all that freedom and this is why Hashem gave us the Torah, so we’d know what to do when we have freedom and choices.” 

I hope your children don’t perceive of the time they spend in school as “slavery.”   School, nonetheless, provides them structured time with specific places to be and things to do.  They now have all this “freedom” from school, and they may not know what to do with it or where you wish they’d do it.

The timing is awful.  Just when you’re at your busiest with all of the cleaning, shopping, and cooking, that’s when your children are off from school, seeking your attention.  Even when (or should I say “if”) your work is done for the day, you’re exhausted and find it hard to be available to your children.

Your children have much more time on their hands just when you have even less time for them. It’s a recipe for failure, unless you plan for success.  Here’s how.

Sit down with each of your children in advance.  Expect to spend between two to five minutes with each child. That’s really all you and they need to make some plans. 

Sitting in a quiet, calm place with each child.

 

Explain that there will be times while there’s no school that you won’t be available to spend time with her. Tell her what you would like her to help you with, when, and for how long.  Ask her what activities she would like to do when you’re not available to spend time with her.  With whom would she like to spend time, who can make the arrangements, what books, games, crafts, and equipment will help her stay busy while you’re unusually busy.

 

Remember that planning activities is better done with children rather than for them.

 

Even after careful planning for a calm Pesach preparation session, a child may need your attention.  When you perceive this need for attention as “misbehavior,” you might become angry.  Coping with anger during Pesach preparations is addressed in HaSeder HaAruch, who writes the following

A person must know that anger and harsh rebuke are always forbidden.  “Anyone who becomes angry is considered as though he had committed idolatry.” (Rambam hilchos daos 2:3 based on Talmud Shabbos 105b) Just as we must guard against chometz when baking matza, so must we guard against anger lest our matza be a mitzva haba b’aveira. (chapter 24 paragraph 6, my translation)

 

The Sefer HaChinuch in mitzva 16 writes that our thoughts and feelings are influenced by our actions.  The actions we perform in the fulfillment of mitzvos are designed to focus our thoughts and stimulate our feelings.   When we engage in mitzvos that remind us of the kindnesses and wonders that Hashem has done for us, we feel grateful and we realize that it is appropriate to express appreciation.  Thus the activities we perform at the Seder naturally lead us to the thoughts and feelings we express in Hallel.  The Chinuch writes this in the course of his discussion of the commandment not to break any bone of the korban Pesaach.  There is another context in which breaking something is significant.

 

I mentioned that the Rambam describes someone who becomes angry as being tantamount to worshipping an idol.  The gemara, however, equates anger with idolatry only when, in expressing the anger, the person breaks a vessel.  Why doesn’t the Rambam make this distinction? The Seder HaAruch posits that the Rambam wants to teach us that anger can lead to breakage indirectly and insidiously, even when the damage isn’t immediately evident.

Our children are vessels, they are the kli machazik of our Torah, the repository of our future.  When we speak to them in anger, we risk damage to that vessel that is the soul of our child; damage that may not be evident, but is painful just the same.

Every couple of hours, while you’re preparing for Pesach, sit down with a child for just a minute or two.  Smile, sigh, and say, “hi, how are you doing?”  The bracha for you and your child in those few moments may not be evident, but it is real just the same.

 

 

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 718-344-6575.

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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

 

This is the last of a series of articles that began with four statements.

 

I can’t let him see me cry.

 

You made mommy sad.

 

You shouldn’t get so angry.

 

You don’t hate your brother.

 

As we’ve seen in the past articles, the first three statements are inaccurate.  

 

The fourth one may be dangerous for your child.

 

Noted parent educator and author Elizabeth Crary wrote: Children who recognize and trust their feelings are more able to resist uncomfortable touch.  You can model talking about your feelings.  Avoid labeling feelings as good or bad – feelings are neither good nor bad.  Avoid discounting feelings – “You don’t hate your brother,” or “You shouldn’t feel mad about a little thing like that.” 

[Pick Up Your Socks...and Other Skills Growing Children Need; Parenting Press, Inc. 1990; page 106 (Teaching Personal Safety Summary Sheet)]

 

I have had parents tell me that they know how important it is to validate their child’s feelings.   Here’s an example:

 

My son Menachem told me that his brother Yoni took Menachem’s camera without his permission and left it at the playground and now it’s lost.  Menachem said, ‘he always takes my things no matter how many times I tell him not to, and you can make him buy me a new one, but I’ll never get back the pictures that I took while we were on vacation.  I hate him!”  I validated Menache’s feelings, I said, “you sound really angry, but I’m sure you don’t really hate your brother, now do you?”

 

This particular mom’s version of validating her son’s feelings was to inform him that she is aware of what he is feeling and that what he’s feeling is not appropriate.  Unfortunately, many parents seem to understand validating in the same way that this mother did.   Telling your child that you know how he feels and he has no right to feel that way is not validating his feelings.   What you’re actually doing is expressing your displeasure and discomfort with the feelings your child just expressed.  Your child is now supposed to stop feeling what he just told you he was feeling so that you won’t feel displeasure and discomfort.   What you described as validating was actually discounting your child’s feelings and expecting him to validate yours.

 

I explained to this mom that it would be more helpful for her to think about recognizing and respecting her son’s feelings as genuine without correcting or judging them.  She was not sure she liked this idea.

So I’m supposed to agree that Menachem should hate his brother for what happened?

 

No, accepting your child's feelings doesn't mean you agree with his feelings.   It means that you are interested in and respectful of how he feels.  When the Torah teaches us “lo tisneh es acheecha b’lvavecha” the targum Yonasan ben Uziel translates it to mean that we shouldn’t sound happy with someone while feeling hatred toward them.  Rabi Yitzchak miKorvil, the SMaK, is more explicit.  He wrote, “don’t hate him in your heart while showing him a pleasant countenance; make clear to him your hatred.”   [MiMayanos haNetzach, Vayikra, page 78]

 

I thought you’re only supposed to hate someone who did an aveira and repeated it after you give him tochacha?

 

Yes, and you said that Menachem has repeatedly asked Yoni not to take his things without his permission.   What would you prefer?  Would you like Menachem to hide his feelings from you?   I think it’s much healthier for him to express himself to you.   If you continue to tell him that his feelings are unacceptable, it may be that he’ll stop feeling that way.   I think it’s far more likely that the next time he feels that way he will make sure not to tell you.   Are you sure that’s what you would prefer?

 

So I’m supposed to feel okay with him hating his brother?

 

No.  I don’t expect you to be okay with his hating his brother.  What I would wish you would realize is that his telling you that he hates his brother may imply that he is not okay with it either and he’s turning to you to let him speak it out so he can get past it.  Let him express his anger, his frustration, his resentment, rather than being ashamed of feeling that way sometimes, which is what you do to him when you tell him that he mustn’t hate his brother.  Help him learn to cope with his feelings and express them appropriately.

 

Rivkie was having trouble coping with her feelings.   She expressed herself by telling her son Menachem that he had to stop hating his brother because she couldn’t stand how it made her feel.   Rivkie was so caught up in how terrible it was for her to hear that Menachem hated his brother that she missed the message within his words, the message that he felt bad about hating his brother.   She wasn’t able to help Menachem, and ending up making him feel worse about himself so she could feel better about herself.

 

The danger in this entire scenario is that Menachem might learn to tolerate mistreatment rather than trusting his instincts and emotions.   He might decide that telling his mother that he is angry with someone for touching him inappropriately will upset her; he isn’t allowed to hate someone for causing him harm.   Rather than telling his father or another trusted adult, he might internalize the message that it is bad to hate anyone, and you have to accept what you receive, even when it makes you uncomfortable.

 

Telling Menachem not to hate his brother for losing his camera could lead him to accept inappropriate touch?  Are those in any way comparable?   Perhaps for you, an adult, the violation of your property and the violation of your personal space are two very different things.  For a 10 year old, they might not be.

 

Teach your child to listen to the messages his emotions provide to him, to share them with you, and to express himself in ways that respect himself and others.

 

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 718-344-6575.
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Author: Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

 

This series of articles began with four statements.

 

I can’t let him see me cry.

 

You made mommy sad.

 

You shouldn’t get so angry.

 

You don’t hate your brother.

 

One of these four statements may actually be dangerous for your child.  The other three are simply inaccurate.  Over the past two weeks, we’ve discussed the inaccuracy of the first two.

 

This week we’ll see what is inaccurate about the third one, and what to say instead.

 

Let’s begin by exploring the contrast between anger and three other emotions as addressed in Pirkei Avos.

 

Rabbi Eleazar ha-Kappar used to say: Jealousy, lust and [the desire for] honor put a man out of the world. [4:28]

 

What about anger?  Why isn’t anger in that list?  And what does Pirkei Avos teach us about anger?

 

Rabbi Eliezer used to say: do not be easy to anger. [2:10]

 

There are four types of temperaments.  One who is easily angered and easily appeased: his shortcoming overrides his virtue.  One whom it is difficult to anger and difficult to appease: his virtue overrides his shortcoming.  One whom it is difficult to anger and is easily appease is a chassid.  One who is easily angered and is difficult to appease is wicked. [5:14]

 

The Torah is acquired with 48 ways. These are: ... slowness to anger. [6:6]

 

There is no Mishna that prescribes moderation in jealousy, lust or the desire for honor.  We are not taught to be slow to become jealous, and no virtue is accorded to one whose lust is seldom aroused.  Conversely, there is no Mishna that warns us against anger in the categorical terms reserved for the other three.

 

The reason for this is that there is nothing categorically wrong with the feeling of anger.   We may go very wrong in how we express our anger, but there’s nothing wrong with feeling angry sometimes.

 

The feeling we describe as anger is an internal message that something is not the way we would like it to be.   It may be something that someone said or did, and it may be something we are angry about at ourselves.   Like most emotions, anger is a catalyst for action.   In other words, anger is an emotional reaction to something we have experienced and it drives us to do something in response.

 

Rochel loves to play morah.  She sets up four chairs next to each other and puts a doll onto each of the chairs.   Then she very gently explains things to them that she had learned in her first grade classroom earlier that day.   It’s really quite adorable to watch, until her three-year-old brother walks into the room.  Mendy likes nothing better than to tip each of the chairs until the doll falls onto the floor.  For some reason he finds that absolutely hilarious.   Not surprisingly, Rochel does not share in the glee.  I can understand her being unhappy about it; what I don’t understand is why she gets so angry about it.  It’s bad enough when she screams at him at the top of her lungs.   Very often pushes him until he falls down.   When I ask her why did you push him and knock him down, she says, “Because he pushed the chairs and knocked my dolls down so I knocked him down.”   So then I say to her, “would you like it if I knocked you down onto the floor now because you knocked your brother down onto the floor?” and she’s says no.   More recently, she’s tried to explain to me why it’s not the same thing.  She tells me the she had a reason to knock him down because he knocked her dolls down for no reason but I don’t have a reason to knock her down because she did have a reason for knocking him down, and all of this seems to make perfect sense to her.   I keep telling her that none of this would happen if she would just stop getting so very angry at her brother for knocking her dolls off of the chairs onto the floor.  I even said to her, “did any of your dolls ever get broken, did any of their clothing ever get torn, why you make such a big deal out of it, why must you get so angry, you shouldn’t get so angry!”

 

Whoa, as you are telling that over to me you sound a bit angry yourself.  How do you sound when you say that to Rochel?

 

I probably sound pretty angry because I’ve been through this with her so many times and I can’t seem to get anywhere.

 

I see.  And if I were to say to you, “you shouldn’t get so angry!” how do you imagine that would be helpful for you?

 

You’re right, it wouldn’t be helpful to me at all.  So how do I get her to stop getting so angry?

 

I don’t know that you need to get her to stop getting so angry.  I would rather you help her figure out what to say and what to do when she is that angry instead of what she’s been doing up until now.   Even though none of her dolls has been broken or torn, her pretend play has been interrupted and I can imagine that that’s very annoying for her, especially since it sounds like it happens pretty often.  Are you suggesting that Rochel have no reaction to Mendy’s disruptive behavior, that she should calmly accept his intrusions?

 

No.  I see what you mean.  It’s not that she should not get so angry, it’s that I want her to do something different to respond when she is angry at him instead of what she’s been doing up until now.

 

My conversation with his mom was now about how to help Rochel figure out how to respond to her brother’s annoying behavior in a way that mom considers acceptable, rather than accepting annoying behavior with equanimity.  

 

When you say to Rochel, “I understand that you become angry when Mendy knocks your dolls onto the floor, and I don’t want you to push him.  What could you do instead of pushing him,” what do you think Rochel will say to you?

 

She’ll probably say “I don’t know what else to do.”  Then what?

 

Then say to her, “Please think about it, and be’ezras Hashem we’ll talk about it some more tomorrow.”  Slow down.  Give her a chance to think.  And make sure you sit down with her the next day to continue your conversation.

 

Over the course of our conversation, mom mentioned the fourth of the statements we’re discussing in this series of articles, “You don’t hate your brother.”  

 

That’s a hard one, and it can be dangerous if mishandled.   G-d willing next week, we’ll see how.

 

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 718-344-6575.

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