INBOX: Why I Will Never Shame A Child

by someone who grew up with a lot of shame

My father made a stern face, turned to me, and said, “If you continue being so big, you will need to buy two seats on the airplane.”

Yes, my weight was more than average. But why was I overweight? I think I was overeating because I was suffering from pain and shame.

My father was frightened that I might grow up being more husky than he had envisioned. In an attempt to scare me into losing weight, he told me that I would eventually have to buy two seats on an airplane.

At the time, I felt tremendous guilt, shame, and even fear. My body froze. I felt the blood rushing to my face. But because my father was caught up in his own fear, he didn’t notice what was happening inside of me.

I don’t think he intended to hurt me. He was worried about me. He wanted what he thought was best for his child.

But good intentions don’t always prevent us from hurting someone.

And honestly, I am not exempt from shaming others either. I learned this lesson not only from being on the receiving end of shame, but also from a time when I made a mistake myself.

Once, I was substituting for a class and felt that I had no control over the students. I picked on one boy and said, “Where did you learn to act this way? Is this how your parents act in your house?”

And guess what?

The boy stopped misbehaving.

It looked great.

But to my dismay, I later discovered the terrible mistake I had made. I had gotten the child to behave, but I had also shamed him terribly.

In this boy’s home, he didn’t even have two parents. His parents were separated.

I felt terrible.

Without making a big discussion about it, I patiently looked him in the eyes and asked him for forgiveness before Yom Kippur.

That experience taught me something important: Just because a damaging method works it doesn’t mean that it is the right thing. No, I shouldn’t have said what I said. And if I had no healthy way to get him to calm down, then, if there was no danger, perhaps I should have said nothing to him or perhaps sent him out of class rather than inflicting shame.

Unfortunately, my experience was not unique. I have also witnessed what happens when shame becomes a primary tool of discipline.

Most principals I know are truly amazing, kind people who are skilled at their jobs. There was one exception.

I once knew a principal who seemed to have complete control when he spoke. When a boy would speak, he would immediately respond with a quick shaming remark and a humiliating demeanor.

It worked.

The boys became quiet as soon as he spoke.

But what was really happening?

The boys in the room felt unsafe. Every student knew that if he disturbed, he could be shouted at and publicly humiliated. They felt that there was no sensitivity. Just control.

It was difficult to pinpoint exactly what was wrong with the principal’s behavior. He wasn’t necessarily using terrible words. But every boy could feel it.

It was in the tone.

It was in the volume.

It was in the lack of hesitation to embarrass a child in front of everyone.

Honestly, I have pity for that man. His primary tool for discipline was shame.

Had he had other tools, he would have been able to build the boys rather than crush them. But tragically, he never learned that there were healthier ways to accomplish the same goal.

A child can be sent out and spoken to privately. It may be harder for the principal or teacher, but it can be much healthier for the student.

A child can receive a consequence without being intimidated.

And a child can be disciplined without being made to feel worthless.

This brings me back to another personal experience. I remember how my father once secretly filmed me in shul and later showed me the video of my disastrous davening—how I was walking around and not focused. He had good intentions. He wanted me to improve my davening. Just as he wanted me to lose weight.

But I didn’t experience his intentions.

I experienced the shame.

I felt like a dirty piece of cloth. I felt like garbage that could be thrown out without any care or dignity.

Those experiences have shaped the way I look at parenting and discipline today.

The lessons I learned from both my painful experiences as a child and my experiences as an adult are the following.

If a child is more on the heavier side, that’s okay. That doesn’t make a child less precious. If you are struggling to make peace with your child’s weight, speak to a mentor or someone you trust. Find a way to love your child no less simply because he or she is a little huskier than you had imagined.

And if you feel that your child is overeating and that this may be contributing to the child’s weight, try to understand what might be behind the eating.

Does the child need more love?

More quality time with the parents?

More stimulation?

Could the child need help building friendships and feeling better about himself or herself?

There may be something underneath the behavior that needs attention.

And yes, if you want your child to eat healthier, you don’t need to embarrass the child. You can fill the house with delicious fruits, vegetables, and other healthy foods. Make the healthy choices appealing and available.

Don’t say, “Look how much you’re eating.”

You can simply make healthier food the natural choice.

And if you want your child to daven better, catch the child doing something good.

Compliment him.

Build his confidence.

Tell him how good he is.

When a child has a positive image of himself, you can tell him how precious his davening is to Hashem—and he is much more likely to believe that his davening has value.

I am not saying that you should be as soft as a reed with your children.

Children need boundaries. They need guidance. Sometimes they need to be told firmly that something they did was wrong.

But there is a tremendous difference between saying:

“You are good, and I see that you made a mistake and something wrong.”

or saying:

“Now that you did something wrong, you have less value.”

The first builds a child.

The second may eventually wound a child.

May we all merit to experience the time when there will be Jewish pride in its fullest, with the coming of Moshiach and the Geulah, today.