How to Talk So Teens Will Listen & Listen So Teens Will Talk

by Adele Faber

  Instead of Put-downs …

  When people are upset, questions and criticism can make them feel worse.

  Listen with a Nod, a Sound, or a Word

  Sometimes a sympathetic sound, grunt, or word can help a friend feel better and think better.

  Instead of Dismissing Thoughts and Feelings …

  When a friend brushes your feelings aside, you’re not likely to want to continue the conversation.

  Put Thoughts and Feelings into Words

  It’s much easier to talk to someone who accepts your feelings and gives you a chance to come to your own conclusions.

  Instead of Dismissing Wishes …

  When a friend dismisses your wishes and puts you down for even having them, you can feel demeaned and frustrated.

  Give in Fantasy What You Can’t Give in Reality

  It’s easier to deal with reality if a friend can give us what we want in fantasy.

  “So what do you think of these examples?” I asked. The kids’ responses came slowly.

  “It’s not the way we talk, but maybe it would be good if we did.”

  “Yeah, because the example showing the ‘wrong’ way really makes you feel like junk.”

  “But you can’t just say the ‘right’ words. You have to mean them or people will think you’re being phony.”

  “In a way a lot of it doesn’t sound natural. It’s a different way of talking. But maybe if you get used to it …”

  “I could get used to hearing it. I don’t know if I could get used to saying it, and I don’t know what my friends would think if I did.”

  “I think the whole thing is awesome. I wish everybody would talk to everybody this way.”

  “Would that include kids talking ‘this way’ to their parents?” I asked.

  That stopped them. “Like when?” someone questioned.

  “Like when your mother or father is upset about anything.”

  I could see by their puzzled expressions that this was a new direction for them.

  “Just imagine,” I went on, “that one night your mother or father comes home from work tired and full of complaints about the day: the traffic was heavy, the computer was down, the boss didn’t stop yelling, and everybody had to stay late to make up for lost time.

  “Well, you could react by saying, ‘You think you had a bad day? Mine was a lot worse.’ Or you could show you understand with a sympathetic ‘Oh,’ or by putting your parent’s thoughts and feelings into words, or by giving them in fantasy what you can’t give in reality.”

  The group was intrigued by my challenge. There was a short pause, and then, one by one, they reached out to their imaginary parents:

  “Boy, Mom, sounds like you had a hard day.”

  “It’s a real pain when the computer goes down.”

  “You must hate it when the boss yells.”

  “It’s no fun being stuck in traffic.”

  “I bet you wish you had a job where you could walk to work.”

  “And that you never had to stay late again!”

  “And that your old boss would retire and you’d get a new one who doesn’t yell.”

  They were all grinning at me now, obviously pleased with themselves.

  “Know what?” a girl said. “I’m going to try this tonight with my mother. She’s always complaining about her job.”

  “I want to try it with my dad,” a boy said. “A lot of times he comes home late and talks about how tired he is.”

  “I suspect,” I said, “that there are going to be some very appreciative parents out there tonight. And don’t forget to bring them to our final meeting next week. It will be interesting to see what happens when we all put our heads together.”

  a quick reminder

  Feelings Need to Be Acknowledged

  Girl: Briana is such a snob! She walked right by me when she saw me in the hall. She only says hello to the cool kids.

  Friend: Don’t let it get to you. Why should you care about her?

  Instead of denying feelings:

  Acknowledge feelings with a sound or word:

  “Ucch!”

  Identify feelings:

  “Even though you know what a snob she is, it can still make you mad. Nobody likes being ignored.”

  Give in fantasy what you can’t give in reality:

  “Don’t you wish one of the popular kids would give Briana a taste of her own medicine? Walk past her as if she doesn’t exist. Then smile and give a big hello to somebody else.”

  Seven

  Parents and Teens Together

  Tonight was a first for all of us. As each family entered the room and took their seats, there was an undercurrent of tension. No one knew what to expect. Least of all me. Would the parents be inhibited by the presence of their teenagers? Would the kids hold back knowing their parents were watching them? Could I help both generations feel comfortable with each other?

  After welcoming everyone, I said, “We’re here tonight to explore ways of talking and listening that can be helpful to all members of the family. Now, that doesn’t sound as if it should be hard, but sometimes it is. Mostly because of the simple fact that no two people in any family are the same. We’re unique individuals. We have different interests, different temperaments, different tastes, and different needs that often collide and conflict with one another. Spend enough time in any home and you’ll hear exchanges like:

  ‘It’s so hot in here. I’m opening the window.’

  ‘No! Don’t! I’m freezing!’

  ‘Turn that music down. It’s too loud!’

  ‘Loud? I can hardly hear it.’

  ‘Hurry up! We’re late!’

  ‘Relax. We’ve got plenty of time.’

  “And during the teen years, new differences can develop. Parents want to keep their children safe, protected from all the dangers in the outside world. But teens are curious. They want a chance to explore the outside world.

  “Most parents want their teenagers to go along with their ideas about what’s right or wrong. Some teenagers question those ideas and want to go along with what their friends think is right or wrong.

  “And if that isn’t enough to fuel family tensions, we also have to deal with the fact that parents these days are busier than ever and under more pressure than ever.”

  “You can say that again!” Tony called out.

  The teenager sitting next to Tony muttered, “And kids these days are busier than ever and under more pressure than ever.”

  There was a chorus of “yeahs” from the other teenagers.

  I laughed. “So it’s no mystery,” I continued, “why people in the same family, who love one another, could also irritate, annoy, and occasionally infuriate one another. Now then, what can we do with these negative feelings? Sometimes they come bursting out of us. I’ve heard myself say to my own kids, ‘Why do you always do that?’ … ‘You’ll never learn!’ … ‘What is wrong with you?’ And I’ve heard my kids say to me, ‘That’s stupid!’ … ‘You’re so unfair!’ … ‘Everyone else’s mother lets them’ … “

  There were smiles of recognition from both generations.

  “Somehow,” I went on, “even as these words are coming out of our mouths, we all know, on some level, that this kind of talk only makes people more angry, more defensive, less able to even consider one another’s point of view.”

  “Which is why,” Joan sighed, “we sometimes sit on our feelings and say nothing—just to keep the peace.”

  “And sometimes,” I acknowledged, “deciding to ‘say nothing’ is not a bad idea. At the very least, we don’t make matters worse. But fortunately, silence is not our only option. If ever we find ourselves becoming annoyed or angry with anyone in the family, we need to stop, take a breath, and ask ourselves one crucial question: How can I express my honest feelings in a way that will make it possible for the other person to hear me and even consider what I have to say?

  “I know what I’m proposing isn’t easy. It means we need
to make a conscious decision not to tell anyone what’s wrong with him or her, but to talk only about yourself—what you feel, what you want, what you don’t like, or what you would like.”

  I paused here for a moment. The parents had heard me expound on this topic many times before. The kids were hearing it for the first time. A few of them looked at me quizzically.

  “I’m going to hand out some simple illustrations,” I said, “which will show you what I mean. To me, they demonstrate the power that both parents and teenagers have to either escalate or deescalate angry feelings. Take a few minutes to look at these examples and tell me what you think.”

  Here are the drawings I distributed to the group.

  Sometimes Kids Make Parents Angry

  When parents are frustrated, they sometimes lash out with angry accusations.

  Instead of Accusing … Say What You Feel and/or Say What You’d Like

  Teenagers are more likely to hear you when you tell them how you feel, rather than how rude or wrong they are.

  Sometimes Parents Make Kids Angry

  When teenagers are insulted, they’re sometimes tempted to return the insult.

  Instead of Counterattacking … Say What You Feel and/or Say What You’d Like

  Parents are more likely to listen when you tell them what you feel, rather than what’s wrong with them.

  I watched as people studied the pages. After a few minutes I asked, “What do you think?”

  Tony’s son Paul was the first to respond. (Yes, the tall, skinny boy was Tony’s son.) “I guess it’s okay,” he said, “but when I get mad, I don’t think about what I should or shouldn’t say. I just shoot my mouth off.”

  “Yeah,” Tony agreed. “He’s like me. Quick on the trigger.”

  “I understand,” I said. “It’s very hard to think or speak rationally when you’re feeling angry. There have been times my own teenagers have done things that have made me so furious, I’ve yelled, ‘Right now, I’m so mad, I’m not responsible for what I might say or do! You’d better stay far away from me!’ I figured that gave them some protection and gave me a little time to simmer down.”

  “Then what?” Tony asked.

  “Then I’d go for a run around the block or take out the vacuum and do all the floors—anything physical, anything that would keep me moving. What helps you cool off when you’re really, really angry?”

  There were a few sheepish grins. The kids were the first to respond:

  “I shut my door and blast my music.”

  “I say curses under my breath.”

  “I go for a long bike ride.”

  “I bang on my drums.”

  “I do push-ups till I drop.”

  “I pick a fight with my brother.”

  I gestured toward the parents. “And you?”

  “I go right to the freezer and finish off a pint of ice cream.”

  “I cry.”

  “I yell at everyone.”

  “I call my husband at work and tell him what happened.”

  “I take a couple of aspirin.”

  “I write a long, mean letter, and then I tear it up.”

  “Now imagine,” I said, “that you’ve already done whatever it is you do to take the edge off your anger and that you’re a little more able to express yourself helpfully. Can you do it? Can you tell the other person what you want, or feel, or need, instead of blaming or accusing them? Of course you can. But it does take some thought, and it does help to get some practice.”

  “In the cartoons I just handed you, I used examples from my own home. Now I’d like to ask all of you to try to recall something that goes on in your home that bothers, irritates, or upsets you. As soon as you think of it, please jot it down.”

  The group seemed startled by my request. “It can be a big thing or a little thing,” I added. “Either something that has happened or even something that you imagine could happen.”

  Parents and kids glanced at each other self-consciously. Someone giggled, and after a few moments everyone started writing.

  “Now that you’ve zeroed in on the problem,” I said, “let’s try two different ways of dealing with it. First write down what you could say that you suspect would only make matters worse.” I paused here to give everyone time to write. “And now what you could say that might make it possible for the other person to hear you and consider your point of view.”

  The room fell silent as people grappled with the challenge I had set for them. When everyone seemed ready, I said, “Now, will each of you please take your papers and find a parent or a child who is not your own and sit next to him or her.”

  After a few minutes of general confusion—amid sounds of shifting chairs and shouts of, “I still need a kid!” and, “Who wants to be my parent?”—people finally settled down with their new partners.

  “Now,” I said, “we’re ready for the next step. Please take turns reading your contrasting statements to each other and notice your reactions. Then we’ll talk about it.”

  People were tentative about getting started. There was much discussion about who would begin the scene. But once the decision had been made, both parents and teenagers assumed their new roles with conviction. They spoke softly to each other at first and little by little became more animated and louder. A mock fight between Michael and Paul (Tony’s son) drew all eyes in their direction.

  “But you always put it off till the last minute!”

  “I do not! I told you I’ll do it later.”

  “When?”

  “After dinner.”

  “That’s too late.”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  “Yes, it is!”

  “Just quit hassling me and leave me alone!!”

  Suddenly they both stopped, aware that the room was silent and everyone was looking at them.

  “I’m trying to get my kid to start his homework earlier,” Michael explained, “but he’s giving me a hard time.”

  “That’s because he won’t get off my back,” Paul said. “He doesn’t realize that the more he bugs me to do it, the more I put it off.”

  “Okay, I give up,” Michael said, “now let me try the other way.” He took a deep breath and said, “Son, I’ve been thinking … I’ve been pushing you to start your homework early because that’s what feels right to me. But from now on, I’m going to trust you to get started when the time seems right to you. All I ask is that it get done sometime before nine-thirty or ten at the latest, so that you can get a decent night’s sleep.”

  Paul flashed a big grin. “Hey, ‘Pop,’ that was much better! I like that.”

  “So I did okay,” Michael said proudly.

  “Yeah,” Paul replied. “And you’ll see, I’ll do okay too. I’ll do my homework. You won’t have to remind me.”

  The group seemed galvanized by the demonstration they had just witnessed. Several teams of parents and kids volunteered to read their contrasting statements aloud. We all leaned forward and listened intently.

  Parent (accusing):

  “Why do you always have to give me an argument when I ask you to do anything? You never offer to help. All I ever hear from you is, ‘Why me? Why not him? I’m busy.’”

  Parent (describing feelings):

  “I hate getting into an argument when I ask for help. It would make me so happy to hear, ‘Say no more, Mom. I’m on the job!’ “

  Teen (accusing):

  “Why didn’t you give me my messages? Jessica and Amy both said they called, and you never told me. Now I missed the game and it’s all your fault!”

  Teen (describing feelings):

  “Mom, it’s really important to me to get all my messages. I missed out on the game because they changed the day and I didn’t find out until it was too late.”

  Parent (accusing):

  “All I ever hear from you is ‘Give me…,’ ‘Get me…,’ ‘Take me here,’ ‘Take me there.’ No matter what I do for you, it’s never enough. And do I ever get a thank-you? No!” />
  Parent (describing feelings):

  “I’m happy to help whenever I can. But when I do, I’d like to hear a word of appreciation.”

  Teen (accusing):

  “Why can’t you be like the other mothers? All my friends can go to the mall by themselves. You treat me like a baby.”

  Teen (describing feelings):

  “I hate being home on Saturday night when my friends are all having fun at the mall. I feel I’m old enough now to take care of myself.”

  Laura, who had been listening with special interest as her own daughter read the last statement, suddenly let out a shriek. “Oh no, Kelly Ann! I don’t care what you say or how you say it, I am not letting a thirteen-year-old go to the mall at night. I’d have to be crazy—with what’s going on in the world today.”

  Kelly turned red. “Mom, please,” she entreated.

  It took us all a moment to figure out that what had been a practice exercise for the group was a very real and current conflict between Laura and her daughter.

  “Am I wrong?” Laura asked me. “Even if she’s with friends, they’re still kids. It’s just plain irresponsible to let young girls go wandering around the mall at night.”

  “Ma, nobody wanders,” Kelly retorted heatedly. “We go into stores. Besides, it’s perfectly safe. There are tons of people around all the time.”

  “Well,” I said, “we have two very different viewpoints here. Laura, you’re convinced that the mall is no place for an unsupervised thirteen-year-old at night. You foresee too many potential dangers.

  “Kelly, to you the mall seems ‘perfectly safe,’ and you feel that you should be allowed to go there with your friends.” I turned to the group. “Are we deadlocked here, or can we think of anything that would satisfy the needs of both Kelly and her mother?”