Friday, December 9, 2016

Discipline and maturity... or the lack thereof

When I was a child, my mom disciplined me with a highly effective method -- she told me to go to my room and come out whenever I was ready, but I had to be sure I was ready.  Unlike getting a time limit imposed on my room banishment, rather than make me resent the punishment, this engaged my brain -- What did being ready mean?  What had I done or was I still doing that made me not ready?  What would happen if I came out before I was ready?  Most importantly, it forced me to take responsibility for my own behavior -- she was telling me that I had control over myself and my actions, and those actions had repercussions... but not repercussions imposed unfairly or artificially by some external force -- the consequences were all my own making.  Though no disciplinary tactic is one-size-fits-all, I consider the way I was disciplined to be a great gift -- it gave me a huge internal sense of control over myself, my own behavior, and my surroundings, as well as a great sense of responsibility.

When I work with children in my day job auditioning public school students for a scholarship ballet program, I try to utilize the "engage their brains and get them to take responsibility for themselves" method as much as possible.  If I just tell a class of 35 NYC public school students not to talk for the next ten minutes, there's a good chance that's going to do zilch.  However, if I engage them, asking if they think they can be so mature and so responsible that they can get through the next ten minutes without saying a word, and to give me a thumbs up if they think they can, and then if I affirm that I think they can too so they should prove me right, there's a marked difference in their behavior from if I were to just tell them to be quiet.  Perhaps the most important part of the audition process that I apply this method to is when I talk to the kids who get a callback about our school's ballet uniform that we have them then change into.  As most students auditioning have never taken ballet before, a dance uniform is far tighter and more form-fitting than anything they're used to wearing, and it makes many of them highly self-conscious in front of their classmates.  And being uncomfortable and self-conscious for a seven-to-nine-year-old frequently translates into giggling.  So I ask them if they like being laughed at.  And when they all shake their heads no, I ask them to raise their hands and tell me how it feels when they get laughed at.  The most common answers I get are "It makes me feel sad," "bad," and "like I did something wrong" -- and usually they deliver these answers while making the saddest, cutest faces ever as if they're reliving the experiences in their head.  When I ask if they want to make other people feel like what they just described, they say no, and when I ask if they think laughing at others is a mature thing to do, they say no.  So I affirm that they're doing a great job being mature right now, that I know they can keep it up, and that keeping it up means not laughing at others.  And with some occasional gentle reminders throughout the audition to take a deep breath in when they feel the giggles coming on, most children are mature about the uniform from that point on and don't laugh about it.  And I'm happy to say that in all the auditions I've been out to since Fall of 2015, though we've lost a handful of kids to the uniform because they weren't willing to wear it, I've never seen a child not willing to wear the uniform or do the callback because of another child laughing.

...But today was unique....  Today was not only disappointing but infuriating.  The children were fine -- uncomfortable when I first showed the uniforms to them, very mature and quick to sober up about it and accept that it was just a uniform like any sport, and very respectful to each other.  But when one boy came out after changing -- a boy who had shown incredible promise in the first part of the audition -- he was laughed at.  Not by a student... by an adult.  A teacher at the school walked by, saw the boy come out in his uniform, and laughed at him.  This is an adult who should be an example to the students who emulate the behavior of the adults in their lives.  An adult who should provide a safe environment for the students at the school to grow emotionally, socially, and mentally.  An adult who should know better than to make an impressionable child feel "sad," "bad," and "like he did something wrong" because he tried something outside his comfort zone.

The boy would not audition.  Eyes red, he said no and kept shaking his head.  So he changed back into his school clothes and, eyes still red and brimming with tears, went back to class.  What should have been a very positive experience for him -- regardless of whether he was accepted -- will now be a negative memory and a source of pain and discomfort.  Shame on that woman for not having the control and maturity of the eight-year-old students in her school.

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