Paul Tough is Cool Part 3: Still Nerdy

I was getting carried away with my interest in Paul Tough's recent talk the other day, so I thought I'd save my other thoughts for this post, just to spread things out a little. Here I go, nerdying out a little bit more, then I'll try to be done. Promise.

As I was saying . . .

Point the second. In response to his comments about a study done on baby rats [I believe this may be the study, or at least one related to what he discussed] where they've found that certain genes actually switch on and off based on whether the mama rat licks and strokes the baby rat in the first seven days of life, one woman asked about a related study that seemed to indicate that the administration of certain chemicals could have a similar effect on the rats' brains as the nurturance. I believe the answer was yes. And certainly, as someone who wishes that a pill would switch certain genes of my own on or off at times, and as someone who has seen the devastating effects of abuse and neglect and has wished a simple switch could heal people I care for, this is a hopeful breakthrough. And still, my heart sank a bit at the swiftness with which we would seek out a chemical to replace the love and care of a healthy relationship. Of course, creating healthy relationships is infinitely harder, but isn't it also infinitely more useful and effective? Even if a pill could reverse the brain damage caused by abuse, does that pill also surround that brain with a model of how to love, how not to pass on more failed relational interactions? How can we encourage a culture obsessed with instant gratification to choose the much much harder road in this instance??

And perhaps to that point, and to make my last point, in considering how to help children succeed, Tough contrasted studies about language development with studies about Attachment. I believe he was trying to help us shift our understanding of how to define success (the harder road worth taking, if you will)
. And yet, the whole way through, I was so certain he was building up to a point I don't think he ever made [though, my brain isn't exactly functioning on all cylinders, so perhaps I missed it, or perhaps we're supposed to wait for his book to see it]. I had seen glimpses of studies here and there [I believe this one gets at the point] that show that healthy attachment actually has a powerful effect on language development. Had he come to this as his climax, he might have helped us think about relational competence and stress management as the more valuable skills, but shown us how better language development is the cherry on top gained when you order your priorities correctly. Personally, I thought that would have been pretty cool. But his talk was still cool nonetheless.

I'm really sorry if this makes no sense because you probably were not at this talk with me, but maybe you're getting a glimpse into some interesting research studies/ideas I've found interesting. I would certainly love to engage on these questions with anyone who is interested! Comment away, Lobsters!

Paul Tough is cool Part 2: Getting Nerdy

So as I mentioned recently, I got to hear Paul Tough talk about how cool Attachment Theory. Paul Tough + Attachment = a double score in my book. If you're interested in a little sample of Tough's writings, check out this article. As I also mentioned, I was too nervous to ask any questions or make any comments in the public space after the talk, and only barely got up the guts to approach him directly. My thoughts were a bit insecure and a bit nerdy, getting into research studies I felt vaguely familiar with. If I had had more chutzpah, here are a few of the things I would have wanted to engage on:

First of all, if you don't know about Emmy Werner, you haven't had too much of a conversation with me about children or education. I'm enthralled by her work. So because that's probably true of most people reading this post, I'm gonna tell you about her now. Werner did a 32 year longitudinal study in Hawaii of children born in various circumstances, from wealthy to poor, two parents and none, homes with drug abuse or substance free, etc. [ Emmy Werner's work on Resilience.] After she sorted the babies born according to degrees of risk factors [like poverty, single parents, substance abuse], she found that a significant portion of the high-risk children actually grew up to be "competent and caring adults." Or in other words, despite being born into rough circumstances, the majority of those children were resilient. She found three protective factors that lead to resilience:

1)  Presence of a Caring Adult [Certainly consistent with attachment theory! But if not the mother, someone like a teacher or a coach or youth pastor can certainly play this roll]

2) High Expectations

3) Meaningful Opportunities [such as community service or leadership]

Her studies are certainly much more involved, but that's the nutshell as it's been taught to me. Isn't that inspiring and hopeful? Aren't those things as a community that we should be able to provide children? Even, and especially, children who may not have had positive attachments until they get exposed to a broader community, such as through a school. So cool. I think her study should be required knowledge for anyone working with children!

More later . . .

Through the monitor

Baby monitor snuggled up with stuffed animals in Sofia's crib.

Today, after attempting to put Sofia down for a nap, I instead heard her babbling to herself for a good long time. Eventually though, the babbling seemed to get much closer, and then started to sound like slobber-on-electronics. Turned out my theory was correct. She had grabbed the monitor off the table to the side of her crib [apparently not far enough off to the side], pulled it into the crib, and was talking right into it and attempting to eat it as well. She sure knows how to get my attention.


I'm thinking about communication a great deal lately. I have enjoyed having an outlet through this blog to communicate with all of you, even though most of you who read are invisible to me. This new outlet comes at the same time that I have this new little person to communicate with.


This past year, I've had to learn so much about non-verbal communication. Despite all the promises of baby books that I would be able to "learn to distinguish my baby's cries," I found out that it was not so easy. How many times did she cry, or make strange faces, or wave her hands around in weird ways and leave me baffled as to what she meant? So many.


My mom had the most brilliant idea this past Christmas [this is a bit of a tangent, just go with me here]. Who can afford to give every person in the family a Christmas gift anymore? And with our family so spread out, figuring out gifts that each person - that you haven't seen in two years - is an insurmountable challenge. For lots of our family gatherings, we've resorted to Secret Santa exchanges or White Elephant games in lieu of presents. But to bring back in some of that personal touch that made exchanging gifts with everyone so special, my mom's idea was this: we drew names, Secret Santa style, but instead of just getting that person a gift, you asked two questions:


1) What was your biggest challenge this past year?
2) What are you most looking forward to about this coming year?


With your recipient's answers in mind, you could make an informed gift buying decision that spoke to where they were in life. When we exchanged gifts, we shared what we learned about the person we were giving to, so the whole family got this efficient, but really meaningful update on each other and a beautiful opportunity to connect. It was so fantastic.


My answer to question number two was looking forward to being able to communicate with Sofia, as she acquired language. A few less befuddled guessing games, and we could really start getting somewhere. My aunt had drawn my name and got me a great book on baby sign language - isn't that perfect?! Sofia has already mastered a few signs. Though mostly, I think she's mastered the idea that signs get her things she wants. So when we're not clearly understanding her, she just runs through all the signs until we get it, and also fall over laughing. This is going to be a fun year!


While I am having fun hearing her express words in meaningful ways, so slowly, but surely, there's another part of me that is going to miss the way we've communicated this past year. Even if I don't feel confident about translating all of her cries, we did develop our own mommy-baby language of sorts. I felt adamant about finding ways to figure out what she was thinking and feeling, as confusing as that process might have been. I was able to subconsciously come to know her quirks, her funny eye-rolls, tilts of her head, inflections in her babbles. I was able to learn things about her moods, her energy level, her interests, her fears. And there was something so uniquely intimate in that bond we developed.


When I can resort to words with everyone else, I rely on those words to tell me what people mean. Of course, that's not a great idea, since most communication is non-verbal [hence Emily's wise distaste for talking on the phone, because she knows that she's missing most of the conversation that way]. But I'm lazy. I take people at their word, I'm gullible like that. But Sofia has been teaching me to listen more fully, because apparently I didn't learn that lesson well enough in my MSW program. As I take that lesson into my communication with my husband, with friends, with my family, I'm finding so much more intimacy in my relationships.


And so as Sofia learns words, it feels bittersweet. I know my lazy self. We won't have to work quite so hard to understand each other, so we won't, and we'll probably miss a bit of content about the other's inner self that way.


So as fun as it was for Sofia to say "tick tock" when she saw some cool clocks this morning, I hope I'll keep looking to see her eyes light up, her mouth form that little "o!" of excitement, and feel the way her body lurches towards the object of her fascination. I hope she has changed me forever, at least to some degree, so that we can maintain this intimacy, and I can learn to be a mother/wife/daughter/friend who listens more fully.