Family Repression.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXI, Issue XVII, 24 October 1903, Page 62

Family Repression.

From the time when he first begins to show a consciousness of his surroundings the baby becomes a thirst, i after knowledge. His eyes open d’ide in wonder; V's hands reach out eagerly to grasp experience; his feet lead him into all sorts of unexplored by-ways; even his little snub nose and the button of a mouth beneath, when they are not experinn*ntally smelling and tasting on their own account, form, of themselves, an animated interrogation point. How unjust we grown people are to

those same little interrogation points! Even for us who have left some deeades behind us in our flight through time, and have, therefore, gained a greater or less stere of experience, life possesses probabilities and possibilities all as yet unexplored or even hinted at. Though we have learned the s- If-eon-trol which forbids our showing upon the surface the eager search with which life is filled, everything within us reaches out in the self-same way to the unknown, the unattained; until the grave closes over man almost the only thing of worth that life holds for him is the knowledge that is withheld.

We know all this, but we do not recognise it. or. recognising it. we ignore it. This surely must be so or we would not perpetually treat the eager little questioner to the impatient "hush.” which is so often the only response lie r. t-eives to questions that arise most frequently from a desire to know. And what if the questioning be not. according to our minds legitimate? (Tl’it may lie false judgment on our part, little as we like to eall it so. I What othir means have the iittle souls of finding out those things which cause them to be devoured with curiosity? How are they to learn the distinctions

between right arid wrong, good and evi if they do not ask? The human eoi sciousness is constantly in a state < unr&st if it be in a healthy conditioi and the treatment of this state shoul lie constructive rather than destructive though the latter line is the one up, which most parents base the trainin of their children, reluctantly as the fa, must lie admitted. Repression at ever point where there seems to be a pr, mise of exuberance of growth ineonsis ent with adult life is now known. R prxssion of tastes, repression of wish,repression of affections! All must 1 brought under the stern regulation ,

rule and measurement. Whatever exceeds the line must be lopped off. But only up to a certain point does the analogy between the plant vegetable and the plant human hold good. The human plant cannot be pruned without doing it serious injury, nor can it be dwarfed in one direction without assuming abnormal proportions in another. It may be trained and led to seek the light in some new direction, but the time-hon-oured system of ‘‘don’t” has proved the undoing of many a parent who had no suspicion as to what the real want ot success might be attributed. Would you then let children do as they please and become the spoiled, unmanageable beings we so often see 1 ? Yes, my good madam, let them do as they please, but first see that they -please” to do right. There is too much recognition of evil in the world. Evil exists certainly, but why should it be kept he.ore the minds of children _»y constant admonitions not to do this or that when, perhaps, nothing in their natures has as yet been appealed to by this especial form of evil? Our army of soldiers is led to move in one direction by following the flag they love, not by shunning the one they hate. There will not be a great necessity for repressing evil tendencies - if the standard of right l>e set up for all to follow and evil ignored wherever possible. One of the most dreadful of all things in dealing with children is so repressing them that they are not allowed to analyse their own motives of give a statement of the argument which led them to a certain action. A child may commit a disobedient action from a perfectly pure motive. Mistaken zeal, a hope of special approval when the thing was explained, has led many a child into an action diametrically opposed to commands. Alas! That explanation was never permitted, and the child was punished instead of receiving approval for judgment. Every child before being condemned should be accorded a just hearing before a judge that should be impartial, and able to weigh evidence and motive. Were this plan -faithfully pursued, many an uplifted hand would be dropped without inflicting the blow, for the motive would be found to be lack of judgment rather than a desire to do wrong. And if the former, it is probably dearly the parents’ own fault. We should remember that a child resembles a traveller in foreign lands, and has no means of learning what he wants to know but by his eager “why?” His habits of observation are as yet unformed, or, at least undeveloped, so he has nothing upon which to base his judgment but that which is told him by those who have been longer in the countrv than he. Upon the manner in which this information is conveyed (if it be conveyed at all) depends much of the future of both parent and child. A hasty “don’t” or an impatient “because—l tell you to” may close the subject for the time being, if an apparently unnecessary question has been put. but the wise parent will explain rather than

repress the spirit which has prompted the “why?” This means will establish a perfect confidence between parent and child, and will ere long lead to sueh a communion of thought between the two that requests or commands will be met by obedience founded on respect, and will be unquestioned because heretofore reasons have been given and their justice acknowledged. In other ways is this wise. A command once given stands for the hour only. A reason once given stands for all time and saves future questioning. “Mother, ean I go down Harrow’s Lane for daisies this morning?” “No.” “Why?” “Because I say so.” Result —the eager questioner snubbed and sullen; the mother master of the situation for the time being. But tomorrow and next day again comes the same eager question, with the same result. until further requests are angrily forbidden. If, on the contrary, the mother had quietly given a good reason for the refusal. there would have been no further trouble or loss of dignity. If she had said, for instance. “No. the grass is high and you will get your feet wet.” ■ or. “I do not wish you to go because there is a case of scarlet fever down there.” or. “Farmer Harrow’s fierce bull is loose.” the whole question would have been settled in 1 moment. If parents consider it beneath their dignity as parents to answer an eage - - “why?” when they give a command, they ean save the situation absolutely by supplementing their command in this way. with a reason before there is any chance for a question. Only by learning the reasons of their elders can the juniors form any possible judgment of their own. Yet parents will keep their children in an utter state of unenlightenment as to proper motives for any special line of action, exacting only a blind obedience; and later these same parents will feel themselves hardly done by if their children, when thrown upon their own resources, become involved in a serious entanglement. But what else is to be expected from such a system? The next item of repression which is most pernicious in its results is the repression of expression of thought. Through this baleful influence many men and women have failed utterly to find their proper niche, the position ,n life which would bring out the best that is in them, until it was almost too late to be of service to themselves or others. While, for instance, the world is not suffering from a dearth of authors, and could, perhaps, readily spare some toiling in the ranks, it is nevertheless a fact that there are manv who have “died

with all their music in them.” by reason of the uncongenial atmosphere by which they were surrounded. Other and happier circumstances, encouragement to form habits of expression, attempts to reach the innermost thought as yet almost unformed and tangible, might have given to the world mightier minds than any we have yet seen. It is contended that if there be anything in a man. it is bound to come out. Yes. as a plant will, perhaps, force its way between the crevice of a rock. But who is so foolish as to say that the pale, delicate, green shoot which has struggled against all kinds of adverse circumstances and has finally triumphed, through sheer force of will and an indomitable sense of latent power, can in any way compare with the plant it would have become, had it been properly trained and matured and encouraged from its birth? To hear the sacred secrets of her child’s inner soul is. or should be, a mother’s dearest privilege; but it is one. alas, which is not prized as it should be It is her province to hear the plans and ambitions which stir the heart of growing youth to guide, advise, to mourn with, to rejoice. The ambitions will seem childish, th< hopes vain. It is not for her to judge, but to wait. Each woman thinks her children swans, but many of them are but ducklings, and some of them “ugly ducklings” at that. Even for the last there is a saving grace in the true, pure, mother love which encourages confidence rather than re presses it. The doctrine inculcated by “do” is far better than that put forth by “don’t.” It has been tne fate of

many parents to be disappointed in the outcome of their children’s career. But for this disappointment who is cheifly to blame? They were self-deceived. The glamour of their own desires shone over all the future, and without striving to find out exactly for what the children were fitted, the older predestined the younger to a certain course in life. The result has been the world’s loss without anyone’s gain. Many a man has made a poor minister who would have made an excellent blacksmith and who would tune gladly followed the latter calling. Many a woman has become a third-rate singer who would have been a first-rate dressmaker. Many a woman has Iteen obliged to stick to her needle when she might have roused the world as an actress. Many a man has followed the plough when he should have been an orator. Suppose it really comes to pass “in time”? What can repay the ane successful so late in life for all the sweetness missed? What is tn redeem the years spent in cramping, uncongenial occupation? What is there for the parents to do then but to acknowledge sadly that they have made a bitter mistake? And what good will that do—after the mischief is done? But the bitterest, the most cruel, of all forms of repression is that exercised in a failure to encourage expression of affection, not only between parents and child, but among the children themselves. There is something in the nature of every infant which appeals for sympathy anil affection. One of his first conscious acts is to reach up his tiny hand and pat softly the cheek of the face bending over him. be it that of nurse or of mother. If

there be no response in kind, the little one is at first filled with grieved though intangible surprise, but he soon learns not to offer his endearments where they are not appreciated. Hungering for expressions of love from his mothers lips, for careases from her hand, he shrinks closer and closer within himself. He must find another, a teacher, a grandmother or an older sister on whom he can lavish, unrestrained, his repressed devotion. It is the sad fate of some to meet no such outlet. Planted in the midst of a family to whom all outward expression of feeling is "nonsense," and not finding the outside congenial spirit that might keep the tender spark alive and his whole nature sweet, he becomes silent and reserved. His waking hours are filled with tender dreams, and slowly he forms around him a choice circle of imaginary companions. He learns little of the values of life, for with its real side he allows himself as limited a connection as possible, dealing only with the beautiful "may be’s" and "might be’s." He dwells on these to sueh an extent that they finally seem to him the only real things. The people around him are little other than puppets. To a birl this system of repression is specially disastrous. The boy goes out into the world finally and diverts his mind by his fight for life. He soon finds for himself an alter ego on whom he ean lavish the wealth of his pent-up affections. The girl stays at home, day after day. growing more and more dissatisfied with herself and her surroundings. She. too. has her dreams and hopes, but they are naturally of a different nature from the boy’s, tending more to domestic felicity and less to worldly ambitions. Then comes the time when the first advances of love are made to her. Frightened at her new experience, frightened at herself, she needs now more deeply than at any other time in her life her mother's demonstrated affection. But in the circumstances she cannot turn to that mother either for sympathy in her emotions or for help to understand herself. If her first lover be an honourable man. such a girl has found a haven of rest. Otherwise —the deluge! She has no means of discussing the man’s character, motives or actions. She must take all for as he states it, or she must aimggle blindly on by herself, against great odds, to find the truth. But the fact remains that almost any offer of marriage presents great attractions to a girl who has led a life of repressed affection. If the prospective husband has some traits of which she does not quite approve, she hopes for the best, and forgives all for the sake of the love he offers and that whieh she thinks she gives. Many times both of these are of the most spurious kind, but of this she has no means of judging before marriage. She has never been led to try to understand herself, much less others. Let those who feel that this may be a little overdrawn look around among their acquaintances for instances of prematurely early marriages and "runaway matches.’’ Among them all the eases will be found very rare where the families of the young couple have been persons given to affectionate expression of feeling. “Why should I be constantly showing my affection for my children, kissing them and caressing them when they

come in or go out or go to bed?” asks some father resentfully. "Do I not provide for them and look after them the very best I know how? what greater proof of love do they want?” There is something which the soul craves—something beyond bread and butter and shoes. To provide only for material wants is to neglect that which is above all earthly things—the soul—and for which there must come a terrible day of reckoning. EMMA CHURCHMAN HEWITT.