Tyrants, intentions and parents

I went to see 'The Last King Of Scotland' yesterday, a very powerful and moving film. I found it provoking thoughts about all sorts of things, and also connecting a lot of lines of thought.

One thing that really surprised me was that in a curious way I found myself feeling a certain sympathy with the character of Idi Amin. Let's be clear, the film version of Amin is a brutal man, and the assumptions I brought into the cinema with me about the real-life man were ranged entirely against him. He and his atrocities were a prominent topic when I first became aware of news and current affairs as I grew up, so for me he's always been one of the first people I think of when dictators, oppressive regimes and human rights abuses come up in conversation.

Nevertheless, watching the film I found I could believe there was a possibility that the film's Amin had at least begun with good intentions; that he had not come to power with the sole intent of brutalising his country and his countrymen. At one point he describes himself as the father of his people, and this opens up an interesting parallel: the tyrant as father, the father as tyrant.

Amin's experience of leadership was of constantly being on the verge of completely losing control, with possibly catastrophic results. His repeated excesses were panicky, knee-jerk reactions. He went too far in the hope that a heavy hand would stamp out the threat to his control; his response to this policy's lack of success was to make the hand heavier. These words could easily be used to describe a great many people's experience of parenting, at least in some measure.

Most, maybe all, parents are capable of being tyrannical as a knee-jerk reaction - I know I am. I've had my moments where I've snapped into a sort of automatic response mode in which I just want to make Fred do what I say. I notice it happens in moments when something inside me panics and says 'I don't know how to do this! I'm trapped!' and it's as if by raising my voice I can fight/flight my way out of it. There was a boy at my school who, when tormented, would lash out randomly, flailing his arms and yelling and growling: in a way, it's a bit like that. Responding to the danger of losing control by letting go of control.

What goes completely out of the window when this happens is the purpose, direction or intention that's behind being a parent. Unless that intention is to raise a child - no, a person - who lives, thinks and behaves entirely according to parental prescription, regardless of inconsistency, abitrariness, or hypocrisy, and does so out of fear. I don't think any of us have that intention at all. The trick would appear to be to stay in touch with the intention, and not get sucked into battling for control.

Fussy logic

I had an interesting conversation with Fred yesterday. He's a fussy kid about certain things - eating, trying new stuff. He gets very stubborn, very insistent that he doesn't or won't like something when he doesn't know that. It's not exactly unique - plenty of kids are 'stubborn', or 'awkward', or 'fussy', or 'controlling'. It struck me though that a better word one could use is that he gets defensive, like he feels he has to defend his world. I put this to him, and it seemed to ring a bell for him. So I asked him what he felt he needed to defend his world from. 'Being controlled by someone else,' he replied.

So it was with some interest that today I read a report about academic attempts to define the family. Sounds a little dry perhaps, but I found it quite the opposite and will be digging deeper into it shortly. One thing that caught my eye was the notion that the concept of the family is a social construct based on ideological and power relationships.

The notion was a feminist notion and the power and ideology were patriarchal. Now, I don't accept that relationships are inevitably about power and trouser-wearing (I used to, but that's another story). For that matter, I don't accept that men are the binary opposite of women and children. However, if you view the family as a power struggle, that'll be your experience of it. And that's where I was reminded of my conversation with Fred.

Fred's been told often enough that I, his mum and his teachers have no interest in bossing him around for its own sake. That actually, the entertainment value of telling him what to do is pretty limited. He's heard that before, but hasn't taken it in. (Pretty common complaint, right?) So he's not really, truly, deeply listening. My automatic reaction of course is to repeat ad nauseam, hoping that one day he finally will listen. But he won't; chances are, he'll figure it out for himself quicker than hear me going on like a stuck record. So what on earth else can I do? It occurs to me that maybe here's a chance to shut up. I could try doing what I want him to do - listen. There's often a lot of mileage in doing what you want others to do.

Shut up and listen!

I'm looking for a new coach at the moment, and had an excellent sample session with one today. One thing I got from it was a clearer idea of exactly what I want to say - to the world, and also therefore myself. That message is -

Shut up and listen!

So for the next few days I'm seeing where shutting up and listening takes me. So far, for example, I've shut up and listened to Fred messing about like the ten year old boy he is, which led to a bunch of laughter where there might normally have been stern reproval on my part. I often make a lot of internal noise about how Fred ought to be; sometimes this is appropriate, but very often it's just habit. That's the 'shut up' part - setting aside the internal noise. Doing so makes it a lot easier to listen to the real-life boy who's actually in front of me, rather than the meek, quiet, seen-and-not-heard child part of me wants him to turn into sometimes. He's not like that, and I don't want him to be like that; so letting him be who he is and listening to that works out great for both of us. Cool!

We don't learn when we talk, only when we listen. That includes internal talk - judgements, expectations, assumptions and so on. I'm going to be looking for other ways I can shut up, and can't wait to see what I get to hear.