The power of affirmation

“Mommy needs you to be a man,” I overheard the mother say to her toddler as they crossed the street. She had the best intentions, I know, along with a heavy bag of groceries in her arms. Her son wanted to be carried home. It was nap-time and his little legs were tired from trailing Mama through the supermarket and across the highway toward home. I wanted to carry her groceries for her and let her hoist him up in her arms. But this was New York City, and I had a quasi-toddler of my own—my mini-Schnauzer Aengus, with a limping rear leg. Anyway, my generosity may have been met with skepticism, even fear, by this urban mom, so I did not offer.

Her words reverberated with me as I walked home along the river. Why, “Mommy needs you to be a man,” I thought? She didn’t mean that. She meant “I have to carry these groceries—they can’t walk home, you can.” Her son doesn’t know how to be a man yet—only that Daddy is one and that he is not as big or as strong as Daddy.

In my days as a toddler teacher and parent guide, I used to tell parents to “affirm the child’s feelings” when you could not give them what they wanted. Some parents thought that was a load of hooey until they tried it. Example: a toddler is screaming that they want the stuffed bear that you left in the car. You can say “Be a big girl now and stop crying—you’re too old for bear anyway.” More tears, more yelling for bear. But what if you say “You miss your bear! Oh, you’re so sad about leaving bear.” Suddenly the eyes focus, the crying subsides. She has been heard. Somebody knows how she feels. Somebody cares.

This is not an imagined scenario. I have witnessed it many times. Over 12 years of teaching toddlers and 21 years of parenting, the power of the affirmation has been my strongest ally.

When a crying two-year old screamed for Mommy as she left him for the first time in an unfamiliar place, I did not say “Stop crying, your Mommy will be back soon.” What does “soon” mean to a toddler anyway? I said “You miss your Mommy. You feel sad. You want your Mommy to come back.” Now you might think that kind of talk would provoke more tears but it never did. Soon the toddler would become settled and get distracted by a colorful toy or book and the tears would stop.

Mothers and fathers who waited outside the doorway would later ask, “What did you do?” in amazement. When I told them my strategy of affirmation, I think some secretly imagined I had a stash of sweets for crying children. But when they tried the affirming language themselves, they knew better.

I wanted to stop the grocery-laden mother with the crying toddler and tell her my secret, but I knew better than to interrupt an overwhelmed parent on a city street.

That power to affirm another’s feeling is not limited to parents and toddlers. As parents, mates, colleagues we often find ourselves at a loss to make things right for each other. We say things like “You’ll find another friend, another job” when what we need to say is “I know how sad (worthless, afraid, angry) you feel. I hear you.”

My husband’s ingrained response to difficult feelings is to deny them. Over the years I have tried to instill in him the power of affirmation. Instead of “Don’t be depressed, Cass,” I ask him to just hear me and affirm what I say.

Recently, when he was in a funk, I said, “Are you depressed?” To which he replied, “I shouldn’t be.” “Should” is another word that doesn’t belong in the realm of feelings. We feel what we feel. Sometimes all we need is someone to know it, someone to hear us.

- Cass Collins