Children should remain silent, and they are âgoodâ when theyâre quiet, but âbadâ when they are not, because they are disturbing the adults and causing trouble. This attitude runs through the way people interact with children on every level, and yet, they seem surprised when it turns out that children have been struggling with serious medical problems, or theyâve been assaulted or abused.
The most common response is âwell why didnât the child say something?â or âwhy didnât the child talk to an adult?â Adults constantly assure themselves that children know to go to a grownup when they are in trouble, and they even repeat that sentiment to children; you can always come to us, adults tell children, when you need help. Find a trusted adult, a teacher or a doctor or a police officer or a firefighter, and tell that adult whatâs going on, and youâll be helped, and everything will be all right.
The thing is that children do that, and the adults donât listen. Every time a child tells an adult about something and nothing happens, that child learns that adults are liars, and that they donât provide the promised help. Children hold up their end of the deal by reporting, sometimes at great personal risk, and they get no concrete action in return. Sometimes, the very adult people tell a child to âtrustâ is the least reliable person; the teacher is friends with the priest who is molesting a student, the firefighter plays pool with the father who is beating a child, they donât want to cause a scene.
Or children are accused of lying for attention because they accused the wrong person. Theyâre told they must be mistaken about what happened, unclear on the specifics, because thereâs no way what theyâre saying could be true, so and so isnât that kind of person. A mother would never do that. Heâs a respected member of the community! In their haste to close their ears to the childâs voice, adults make sure the childâs experience is utterly denied and debunked. Couldnât be, canât be, wonât be. The child knows not to say such things in the future, because no one is listening, because people will actively tell the child to be quiet.
Children are also told that they arenât experiencing what theyâre actually experiencing, or theyâre being fussy about nothing. A child reports a pain in her leg after gym class, and sheâs told to quit whining. Four months later, everyone is shocked when her metastatic bone cancer becomes unavoidably apparent. Had someone listened to her in the first place when she reported the original bone pain and said it felt different that usual, she would have been evaluated sooner. A child tells a teacher he has trouble seeing the blackboard, and the teacher dismisses it, so the child is never referred for glasses; the child struggles with math until high school, when someone finally acknowledges thereâs a problem.
This attitude, that children shouldnât be believed, puts the burden of proof on children, rather than assuming that there might be something to their statements. Some people seem to think that actually listening to children would result in a generation of hopelessly spoiled brats who know they can say anything for attention, but would that actually be the case? That assumption is rooted in the idea that children are not trustworthy, and cannot be respected. Iâm having trouble understanding why adults should be viewed as inherently trustworthy and respectable, especially in light of the way we treat children.
And children will sometimes think adults are liars because it hasnât occurred to them that adults can be wrong. Whenever teachers told me to ignore my bullies and that will make them stop, I progressively became more and more frustrated because I didnât understand why they were lying to me. (The only teachers I began to go to about it after a while were the ones who tried to help but knew they couldnât magically prevent the bullying from happening.)
When a kid told me they hurt their leg in the ballpit where I worked, I would ask where it hurt and look at it. Instead of dismissing the kid, Iâd ask them if they wanted their parents to pick them up, if they just wanted to sit for a couple minutes, or if they were okay to keep playing. Not only did that teach them that I listened to them and believed them, but it also made them better at recognizing their own injury status because the kids who were more hurt wanted their parents but the kids whose pain had already passed would want to go back in the ballpit.