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when the rules are broken. You will be unable to direct him properly
unless he learns that undesirable conduct will cause more pain than
it is worth. Here are five principles of discipline.
DIRECTIONS
Five principles of discipline. No laws can be effective unless
penalties are imposed when they are violated. So too with rules
governing your child's conduct: You will be unable to direct him
properly unless he learns that undesirable conduct will cause more
pain than it is worth.
This principle implies that you must subjugate your own personal
feelings, likes and dislikes when exercising them might not serve a
useful purpose. To illustrate: A father has often slept late on
Saturday mornings while his young children raced about the house
making noise. Usually he merely rolled over in bed and put a pillow
over his head to keep out the sounds. One morning, however, he
awakened with a headache while his children pounded their drums.
His first impulse was to reach out from bed and spank them. But a
second thought convinced him that his children were behaving
properly in the light of their past experience, since they had no way
of knowing that this was different from other Saturdays. Therefore,
the father spoke to them reasonably, telling them that their noise
disturbed him. If, after his explanation, they had continued to
pound their drums, he could legitimately punish them to stress not
only the importance of obedience but also that they must sacrifice
their own interests for the good of others.
The child who knows that his punishment is dictated by his parents'
love for him will become a partner in the punishment at least to
some extent because he realizes that it is for his own good. That
is why wise parents sometimes permit their youngsters to choose
their own punishment when they have violated rules. The youngster
who recognizes the need for punishment and who willingly accepts it
takes an important step toward the goal of all his training the
disciplining of himself, a process which will continue until death.
2. Let the punishment fit the crime. In applying this principle, try to
put yourself in the child's place. A four-year-old girl was playing in a
side yard with several boys of her age. A neighbor observed her
exposing her sex organs to them and reported the fact to her
mother. The mother raced to the yard, grabbed the girl by the arm,
dragged her into the house and beat her with a strap, raising welts
upon her back. This mother should have realized that her daughter
lacked the experience to know that her action was not proper.
Moreover, the punishment was entirely out of keeping with the
offense. It was based on the mother's own sense of shame and not
that of the child. It was an exercise of hate not of love.
Therefore, if you would help your child to achieve his true purpose
the living of his life in accordance with the will of God so that he
may save his soul, and if you would see your good influence
continue for untold future generations, provide an example that
gives the holy guidance he needs.
What this saint said to his priests also applies to us as mothers and fathers in our
dealings with our own children. Every time I read this letter, which appears in the Office
of Readings for the feast of St. John Bosco on January 31, I admire the wisdom of it,
but at the same time I am convicted by it: I am forced to acknowledge that if this great
saint saw my parenting, he would tell me that I indulge in too much unholy anger
toward my children.
In his letter, Don Boscos primary focus seems to be on the anger that creeps into the
parental acts of rebuking, disciplining, and punishing. There are other kinds of unholy
parental anger, such as when a child brings some need to a parent who doesnt want to
be bothered and the parent reacts with irritable frustration. Here the anger is outside
the setting of a parent disciplining a child. But let us stay within this framework and try
to understand why anger so easily creeps into disciplining and punishing a child.
St. Thomas Aquinas says that we are typically angry in the face of some injustice done
to us, and that what especially provokes anger is the element of contempt or scorn in
the one who does us some wrong. Thus, if a child is rude to his or her parentsif a
child shows them, whether in word or deed, scorn rather than respect the parents are
"set up" for anger. They are in exactly the position in which people naturally feel anger.
Anger grips the parents so strongly precisely because they feel justified in rebuking the
disrespect of their children. They feel that they would deny their most basic sense of
justice if they were to suppress their anger. Thus the poison of anger slips into their
soul under the cover of justice.
St. John Bosco would hardly counsel parents to deny their sense of justice. He would
not admire parents who are so lacking in self-respect that they dont even mind the
disrespect of their children. He would certainly expect parents to "dare to discipline."
But he would warn against the anger that puts "contempt in our eyes" and "insult on
our lips." Anger in that sense, he warns, is never justifiednot by the disrespect of our
children, not by anything else.
This great saint also had a keen sense of how impotent angry words of rebuke are. In
the same letter, we read: "In serious matters it is better to beg God humbly than to
send forth a flood of words that will only offend the listeners and have no effect on
those who are guilty." If we are honest with ourselves, we will acknowledge that the
louder our voices are raised in angry rebuke, the more powerless we are. We
sometimes reach the point where our anger becomes in part a rage at our own
powerlessness and is no longer merely anger at our disrespectful children.
On the other hand, there is great power in the meekness advocated by St. John Bosco.
On one famous occasion he took a group of boys from prison for an outing in the
country; he declined the help of the prison guards and was able by himself to bring all
the boys back to the prison at the end of the day. The guards were amazed that not
one tried to escape. His fatherly way that dispensed with all anger was more powerful
than any prison guard.
We can put it like this. The meekness of St. John Bosco may at first look weak, even
wimpish, and the loud anger of a father berating his child may look strong and manly.
But the reality is just the opposite: The gentle appeal to the child is full of a mysterious
authority and persuasive power, whereas the loud anger just serves to estrange the
child from the father and to undermine the fathers authority in his childs eyes.
Perhaps the main thing we can gather from this letter of Don Bosco is that in boiling
over with anger we fall short of a loving attitude toward our children. We lose sight of
their well-being. We do not experience our anger as benefiting them, but only as
denouncing them for their bad behavior. We do not give any thought to how our anger
will be received and whether it has any chance of being heard and of helping the child
to grow. If we did, then we would take into ACCOUNT the fact that it "has no effect on
those who are guilty." But we ignore this obvious fact because in flaring up with anger
we yield to our own impulses and urges far more than we tend to the good of our
children. There is a self-indulgence in being swept away with anger. We lose touch with
the spirit of service to our children of which Don Bosco speaks when he says: "Let us
place ourselves in their service. Let us be ashamed to assume an attitude of superiority.
Let us not rule over them except for the purpose of serving them better."
I repeat that the spirit of Don Bosco does not prevent us parents from being firm with
our children. Rather, this great Christian teacher of youth would counsel us to draw
boundaries, to be unyielding in essential matters, to expect respect, and, when
necessary, to impose punishments. He surely also knew from his vast experience that
there are moments when these things have to be done forcefully. You could call this
forcefulness in disciplining "anger," and thus, in a sense, it would follow that Don
Boscos instruction allows for justified anger. But there is often a bitterness in the anger
of parents, an insulting edgesomething that wounds rather than builds up, that
estranges rather than bonds. When this failure to love enters into our parental
firmness, a good thing is spoiled.
I have said that the opposite of anger is meekness. I would direct the reader to the
beautiful chapter on meekness in Dietrich von Hildebrands great work, Transformation
in Christ. He explains the contrast between Christian meekness and all that is brutal
and violent; he also explains the contrast between Christian meekness and all that is
weak and spineless. He beautifully brings out the particular reverence that the meek
person shows toward the other as spiritual being and as person. This reverence,
opposed to the bitterness of anger, must stand at the heart of all our parenting.
I conclude with these challenging sentences from the letter of Don Bosco: "My sons, in
my long experience very often I had to be convinced of this great truth. It is easier to
become angry than to restrain oneself, and to threaten a boy than to persuade him.
Yes, indeed, it is more fitting to be persistent in punishing our own impatience and
pride than to correct the boys." The saint is saying to us that we should not be deceived
by the sense of "justice" that drives our anger; there is often a poison in this anger,
and it is more important for us to spit this poison out of our spiritual system than to
rebuke our children for disrespect.
The first need, then, is precisely this: that a father be present in the family. That he be
close to his wife, to share everything, joy and sorrow, hope and hardship. And that he
be close to his children as they grow: when they play and when they strive, when they
are carefree and when they are distressed, when they are talkative and when they are
silent, when they are daring and when they are afraid, when they take a wrong step
and when they find their path again; a father who is always present. To say present
is not to say controlling! Fathers who are too controlling cancel out their children,
they dont let them develop.
The Gospel speaks to us about the exemplarity of the Father who is in Heaven who
alone, Jesus says, can be truly called the good Father (cf. Mk 10:18). Everyone knows
that extraordinary parable of the prodigal son, or better yet of the merciful father,
which we find in the Gospel of Luke in chapter 15 (cf. 15:11-32). What dignity and what
tenderness there is in the expectation of that father, who stands at the door of the house
waiting for his son to return! Fathers must be patient. Often there is nothing else to do
but wait; pray and wait with patience, gentleness, magnanimity and mercy.
A good father knows how to wait and knows how to forgive from the depths of his
heart. Certainly, he also knows how to correct with firmness: he is not a weak father,
submissive and sentimental. The father who knows how to correct without
humiliating is the one who knows how to protect without sparing himself.