Context vs. Cortisol

Some lessons are crucial for our children to learn. They can seem so important that the thought of these teachings being missed conjures primal fear. Now, if we learned anything from Star Wars, it’s that fear leads to anger (I think—maybe it was the dark side). When we get angry, even if we feel like we’re not yelling (I have realized), anger still leaks out through tone or vibe. Have you ever tried to convince those around you that you weren’t angry knowing you were? The problem is that it’s stressful for the child when a parent is angry.

 Parental approval is vital for kids. Easily forgotten. It can also be taken for granted that they know they are loved. Approval builds security. Parental anger causes stress in the form of insecurity. Stress creates more cortisol than is needed. Too much cortisol decreases our ability to learn or remember things. I won’t go into the science here, but yelling at someone when they forget something important decreases their ability to form the memory you may want. The feeling when being yelled at will be robust. Recalling the thing that was the cause of the yelling? Not so much. That type of recall memory, or learning, actually decreases. Can you see the cycle that’s being set up here?

This may seem counterintuitive. Some parents reason that if a forgetful child is scared or feels bad enough, it will make them remember. Let’s use the classic example of lost shoes. It’s time to walk out the door to go to some event that we’re already running late to. The six-year-old can’t find her shoes. The “If you would put your shoes away” talk happens every few days. It feels justified to unleash a little frustration. “Feel bad? Good. Maybe now you’ll remember.” They will surely not forget next time. But they do. Was the punishment and shaming not severe enough?

In reality, inducing fear, stress, or self-hate only decreases someone’s ability to learn and thrive. They are more likely to forget next time. All the focus has been on fear of being loved—nothing to do with shoes.

Recently, a friend asked me about buying a pocket knife for her son. She thought getting a knife with a camp-color handle would be cool. I pointed out that a camo knife would blend right in with the environment it is commonly used in when put down or dropped. That is, after all, the pattern’s primary function. I imagined a family camping trip. The knife slips out of the child’s pocket. Or maybe it’s left on a stump. The child is now upset and frantic that they lost the gift they were so excited about. I suggested just getting their favorite color. Hopefully, orange, though any bold color would do, especially with a metallic sheen.

Let’s continue with the example of a child losing a newly gifted pocket knife. Now, picture you are attempting to unpack the car to set up a camping trip. Maybe you’re tired from the amount of work that went into getting packed in the first place. Perhaps the three-year-old keeps running too close to the lake, and you’re having a hard time just unloading the car. Now you just realized you forgot flashlights and have no idea what you’re going to do. At this moment, a frantic ten-year-old runs up, panicking about a lost pocket knife. The one you just bought and told them to take care of is gone after the first ten minutes of use.

They already feel bad about themselves. They are coming to you for reassurance. Instead, they receive a heavy dose of shame and self-doubt. 

Now, after making them feel bad, any parent usually feels bad themselves. This comes in a wave shortly after the car is unpacked. The three-year-old is happily playing a safe distance from the lake, and the flashlights you did pack after all are found. When remorse hits, we may try to backpedal. We try to help them find the knife, apologize, or maybe promise to buy a new one.

Cortisol, stress, anger, and bad feelings all around. What’s the alternative? Context. Context for the parent first, and then the child.

The context for the parent is almost always fear. In this scenario, the parent may be scared of the three-year-old falling into the lake and drowning. This is distracting to the point that the flashlights are forgotten, sparking fear of upset kids and a failed camping trip. If this camping trip fails, it will be even more challenging to get the kids outside, and their screen addiction will run rampant, preventing them from developing any skills. This will send them on a downward trajectory for the rest of their lives. Now the ten-year-old lost their knife after a few minutes—see this, it’s proof, it already started! These kids have no skills and are being left behind.

Our protective instinct is actually being challenged here.

Your personal details may be different. This is just an example of the type of fear that is underneath the anger that turns into a child-shaming adult tantrum. How does one prevent this spiral? Name the fear. “But I don’t feel scared, I feel angry.” Yes, at times, we are less than emotionally honest with ourselves. This is a powerful tool. A tool that we can become skilled with by practicing. Ask yourself what the fear that sparked the anger really is and prepare for answers. Squaring off with the fear is the quickest way to disarm the fury bomb. As you find anger mounting, just ask yourself, “What am I scared of?” More than likely, it’s your child not being okay.

Now that our emotions are in the proper context, we are prepared to put the situation in context. In this example, we may reflect on the last time we lost our keys, phone, one of our kids, or the flashlights only moments ago. Now factor in the extra decades of practice and life experience you have on a ten-year-old. With the right mindset, it becomes much easier to use context again, this time as a teaching tool rather than cortisol.

A simple way to do this is to explain, “This is why we do this thing this way,” rather than simply, “Do this thing this way.” Put the thing you are asking in context. If you can’t answer the “why” and feel the urge to say, “Because I said so,” it may be time to go back within and investigate the fear.

Here’s an example:

“Don’t lose your knife.”

“Okay. I won’t.”

“I’m serious. I’m not getting you a new one if you lose it.”

“I know.”

First, the tactic for teaching is fear (cortisol). Invoking the fear of not getting a replacement knife. Second, the only thing this young person learns is that they are not trusted.

Instead, examine the context. For a child who has never kept up with a wallet or car keys, keeping up with anything will be a new experience. Giving ways of thinking rather than threats. Share a personal story. “I’ve learned, after many hours spent looking for my keys, to keep them in a little box on my dresser or in my pocket. Those are the only two places they could be if not in the ignition. It took me a little while to stick to this, but now it’s a habit, and I don’t lose them anymore. Do you have a special box to keep important things in?”

Now, we are on the same page with the child. They are a first-class citizen on the same level as the openly fallible parent. In this way, we share our shortcuts born of experience rather than instructions backed by threats.

Fear is a weak and temporary motivator when compared to actual understanding. Next time you feel your cortisol pumping, take a breath and name the fear. Then, practice finding context.