Last week, the results of a major, 35 year study by Cambridge University have revealed children who flourish best as adults are those who have had 'families that provide love, security and support', regardless of the family structure.  In other words, whether the family is the conventional mum and dad, or a single parent, or a same sex couple etc., is immaterial when it comes to people's happiness and success.


Of course, the findings have attracted criticism from those who still, erroneously, believe that the traditional family is the gold standard.  My own experience confirms the Cambridge results.  I have known many different types of families, and, fortunately, most were loving and supportive, and the children happy.  Besides, let us not forget that Adolf Hitler, Joseph Stalin, Mao Tse Tung and most monsters of history came from traditional families.


What matters, in terms of the adults' communication in a family, is their relationships with each other.  Children thrive when they know they are loved, but even more so when they are witness to and surrounded by loving relationships. Role models and their impact matter vitally, often subliminally.

I must apologise to my readers for missing my 'Sunday sermon'.  Technical hitches with the blog site left me frustrated and unable to write a new post.  Thanks to my blog mentor, I have recovered my blog site.


Some very wise person said:
"Madness is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results."
Yet we are all victims of this.  It's a kind of stupidity, mixed with stubbornness, fear of change and lack of imagination.
When I see a parent shouting, yet again, at their child who is crying, yet again, I do want to ask the parent if it has ever occurred to them that their methods of dealing with their child's behaviour are not working and have they ever thought of trying a different approach.  When it comes to children, it is worse than madness to persist with unworkable methods.  It is positively harmful over a long period of time.


One of the best mothers I ever knew used to forestall saying 'No' to her children all the time by initiating enjoyable activities for them.  She didn't wait to scold them for licking out the bowl after making icing, she would hand them spoons and say "I want that bowl cleaned out!"  This had the effect of making her children restrained in their behaviour, and as such, delightful kids. It's a shame that there are not more parents like her.

In my blog, I occasionally mention that I have been a teacher of public speaking.  Going from teaching children to adults was, as a teaching friend put it:
"From conscripts to volunteers."
As the courses rolled on, I became more and more fascinated with the psychological and human aspects of public speaking.  In frequent global polls on phobias, public speaking consistently tops the list.  People fear spiders, snakes, even death less than speaking in public - which logically means that if you are delivering a eulogy at a funeral, you would prefer to be in the coffin!


The usual reasons given for people's fear of public speaking are:
"I'm shy."   Or
"I'm afraid of being humiliated."
These reasons sound perfectly human and understandable, but if we look closer, the underlying message is "I'm vain."
Being shy and being afraid of making a fool of oneself are excuses.  Public speakers are, in a supreme sense, messengers.  They are there to deliver a message, be it informative or persuasive.  Of course, it's natural to check one's appearance before speaking, but after that it is the speech and not the speaker that is important.
If a speaker drops his notes, or even falls off the podium, it is human and forgivable. Audiences often warm to a speaker if a blunder is dealt with in good humour.  The one thing that audiences cannot tolerate is when a speaker wastes their time, usually by the tedium of the content and delivery, or by telling an audience things they already know.


An amusing speaker once said:
"I don't mind if members of the audience look at their watches while I'm speaking, but I do mind if they tap them to see if they're still working!"

When I became a teacher I had to learn a lot, and fast.  Teachers' College was useless when it came to helping us deal with the actual classroom and day-to-day situations. We spent two years on educational theory and other academic abstractions, unconnected, as usual, to reality.


Being a fairly opinionated and outspoken person, I decided very early on, that it would be wrong of me to use the classroom as a platform for my views.  I am pleased to say that I never did preach to my pupils, on any issue.  Yes, I questioned their views and played "devil's advocate" on many occasions, but I did not state my beliefs.  Expressing enthusiasm for one's interests is a far cry from stating an opinion on political or religious issues.


This was very important when I came to teach public speaking to adults, for if the students knew my opinion on a particular subject, they would be less likely to speak against my view, fearing, unnecessarily, that I would be subjective in my judgement of them.  For a start, I was more interested in how they spoke than the content of their speeches.  I used to say to classes, at the outset:
"If you have an unpopular viewpoint, by all means express it, as long as you can support it with evidence."
I wanted no censorship and by not expressing my personal outlook on any issue, the students felt free to state their opinion on any issue.


One regret I do have about my teaching life is that I talked too much, a failing, I think, of many teachers.  But unlike many teachers, I didn't use my talking as a means of disseminating my beliefs.
Too many teachers I have known or heard of, abuse their power by preaching to classes.  By all means question, but don't attempt to indoctrinate.  That is not what teaching is all about, no matter how committed the teacher is to their cause.

This week I wish to post a wonderful poem by Kahlil Gibran.  It is mainly addressed to parents, but its truth is universal:


Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.


You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot
visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.


You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
...
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness

My experiences as a teacher, especially as a teacher of public speaking, have revealed how vital self-confidence is to all achievements.
Self-confidence and ego are different things.  Self-confidence simply recognises one's abilities, potential and limitations, whereas ego is so insecure it must prove itself regularly, with displays of strength, knowledge, power.


I taught a teenage boy years ago who was never arrogant because he was so self-confident.  When he spoke to his peers, they listened.  When he joked with a teacher, he knew exactly how far to go. His self-confidence made him well liked and respected. He had his vulnerable side, but it was not large.
Building confidence in one's students is, I believe, an important part of a teacher's job.  I have found that a little bit of praise goes a lot further than a heap of criticism.


A story on this issue that comes to mind is one from Summerhill School.  Neill, the head, was concerned about a new arrival at the school, a boy of about 12.  He lacked confidence so much he became quickly anti-social and didn't attend any lessons.  One day, as Neill was looking out the window of his office, he saw this boy spit a tremendous distance.  So the next day, Neill announced that at 1pm there would be a spitting contest.  Needless to say, the boy won and soon afterwards began attending lessons and mixing happily with the other pupils.
By finding the boy's one 'strength' and boosting it, he had also helped boost his self-confidence.  Unusual though the method was, it worked.
When I repeated this tale to a headteacher years ago, he snorted:
"A spitting contest!" - missing the point of the story completely.

The anthropologist Malinowski discovered many interesting aspects of the society of the Trobriands, part of the Solomon Islands of Melanesia.


One of the most curious customs was how children are brought up.   The parents remain their children's playmates throughout the early years and beyond.  All authority, all boundaries are set by the uncles, aunts and cousins of the children.  This notion runs counter to modern Western thinking, where parents are both the playmates and authority, and reject vehemently any outside criticism or interference in their parenting.  This creates a problem for the children.  One moment they are being hugged and told how much they are loved, and the next moment they are being shouted at by the same person, and told they are bad for transgressing a parental rule.  This 'angel/devil' approach helps create a psychological schism and can lead to all kinds of mental conflicts later on.


If the people who are your first guardians bring you up with unconditional love, while others impose the necessary discipline, these conflicting images of parents and oneself would not exist.
Some say that this creates two sets of people for the child - parents who are loved, and others who are hated.  But if restrictions on behaviour are administered with sense and sensitivity, the child will accept these boundaries more willingly than if they are enforced with threats and punishments.


The Trobriands are a much happier people than most of us Westerners are.  I believe it's all in the upbringing.