I was sitting at a rectangular dinner table with my wife, Donna, my daughter, and her three children—six of us. During the animated conversation, I glanced at my grandson Bruce, age eleven, who was sitting to my right. He was tearing up, so I asked him, “What’s going on?”
Quietly, he choked out the words, “Nobody’s listening to me.”
“Hmm, it sucks when people don’t listen to you. Would you like to figure a way to get what you want?”
He nodded.
“Let me check this out,” I said. I turned to Bruce’s mother, who was sitting across from him, and asked if she had even HEARD Bruce speak. No. Bruce’s grandmother across from me? No. And I told Bruce that I hadn’t heard him speak either. “You do have a soft voice, and there was a lot of noise at the table.”
“Bruce,” I continued, “it sucks when people don’t listen to you. Listening means to pay attention to you after hearing you, but in this case it’s not that nobody was LISTENING. The truth is that nobody HEARD you at all. People can’t pay attention to you if they can’t hear you. Understand?”
He thought for a moment and blurted out, “So how do I get people to HEAR me?”
Without a thought, I threw my arms out as far as I could and looked at the three people closest to me—including Bruce—while I opened my mouth and eyes wide, lifted my eyebrows, and shook my head. It was quite an attention getter, and Bruce immediately laughed out loud as he understood what I was teaching him.
In just a few moments, Bruce had moved from tears to laughter. I didn’t sympathize with him. I didn’t tell him that nobody meant to hurt his feelings. No, I listened to him. I felt his pain, and then I helped him see what was true. And then, when he realized the truth of the situation, he asked for a solution, which I demonstrated.
I also told him that he could wave his hands or whatever it took to get people’s attention, but he also needed to do that without any irritation. Why? Because anger drives people away. They want to listen even less.
Later the same day, we were all playing a game that involved a lot of conversation and comments. Suddenly, Bruce stood up and waved his arms at everyone sitting at the table.
I looked at him and said, “What are you doing?”
Donna leaned over and said to me, “He’s doing exactly what you told him to do.”
And then I remembered the conversation from earlier that day. I laughed as I said, “Nice going, Bruce. You must have something to say. Go for it.” He had learned how to ask more productively for attention instead of feeling like a victim.
Our children need us to listen to them, accept them, love them, and teach them how to be happy in the world. As we do that, we give them a gift far greater than a beautiful home, electronics, and endless entertainment. We can learn how to love and teach our children. Find out by going to RealLoveParents.com.
