If you want to understand kids today, you need to understand feelings

I’ve been teaching at Rider University for 15 years now, and the cliche is true: Those kids keep me young. Especially as I get older. When I started, I was 33. I had some students who were 22. We were basically in the same age group.

Now I’m 48. I had an all-freshman class this semester. They were all 18. Oy.

But thank goodness, because a bunch of them saved my relationship with my 10-year-old son. Not even kidding.

See, my 10-year-old had turned into an obstinate dillweed. I mean, I love him and all, but he’s definitely starting puberty and he can be a real … well, a real obstinate dillweed.

I made mention of this in passing on the last day of class. It was the end of class. Semester was over. I don’t even know where it came from, but there I was, telling a handful of 18-year-olds how my son was giving me fits.

What they explained to me - the boys, specifically, and all of them, no matter their race, color, creed, or social standing - was life-changing.

*****

“Wait until your father gets home,” was something my mother would say to me when I was acting like an obstinate dillweed as a child. And ooh boy, did I not like hearing that. Because when my father got home, my mother would tell him whatever obstinate dillweed-like thing I did, and then my dad would yell at me.

That’s right. My father yelled at me. Call DYFS, right?

Of course he yelled at me. That’s what fathers do to their sons when they’re acting like obstinate dillweeds. They yell, the kid cowers, punishments are doled out, everyone sits down to dinner. Rinse, wash, repeat.

So that’s what I’ve been doing with my son. He obstinately dillweeds, I yell, cowering, punishment, dinner.

And it’s not working. Not at all. When I was a kid,

I’d be off the obstinate dillweed train for a good week or two after a hollering; my son would not only stay on the train, he’d be collecting tickets and calling out the station stops.

I was at the end of my rope. So much so, I admitted my parenting failures to a bunch of 18-year-olds. At 4:15 p.m. On a Thursday. When they were leaving class.

*****

“No, it’s all about feelings,” is what they all pretty much said.

I looked at them without comprehension. They patiently explained to me how the world has changed.

Basically, they were taught about feelings. Like, in school. They were taught how to deal with feelings. Like, in school. They were taught how to manage their feelings. Like, in school.

When I was in school, I was taught how to read and write. They were taught that, in addition to how to deal with emotions.

And what they told me is that they didn’t respond to anger when they turned into obstinate dillweeds. In fact, they don’t really respond to emotion that’s directed at them. They do, however, respond to emotion based on how it makes the other person “feel.” This is the basis of the Great Feelings Teachings of Public School In These Overly Sensitive Times. It’s not how you feel that matters; it’s how you make others feel that matters.

So they told me to calmly tell him when he was acting like an obstinate dillweed, what he was doing to upset me, and how it made me feel. Then I was to walk away. So…

Old method: “WHY YOU LITTLE GET OVER HERE THAT’S IT NO MORE IPAD YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE OBSTINATE DILLWEED!”

New method: “The way you’re treating your sister makes me sad and disappointed.”

I was excited to try this namby-pamby baloney, knowing there was no chance it was going to work. Fathers have been successfully yelling at their sons for eons. There’s no way …

*****

Not only is it working, it’s like a new day has dawned. I tell the kid I feel sad, he not only stops what he’s doing, but he apologizes and seems to genuinely mean it. My household is back to threat level blue, down from orange. The namby-pamby baloney works. The only obstinate dillweed currently in my house currently is me. Things are back to normal.

*****

It’s hard to break old habits, harder to break habits that seem to be biologically wired into us. There has been a sea change in how our children are taught to deal with their feelings. Basically, they’re actually taught how to deal with their feelings; we weren’t.

As a result, we’re the ones that need to learn. And as it turns out, it’s not nambypamby baloney. It’s actual communication. Mind, blown.

Jeff Edelstein is a columnist for The Trentonian. He can be reached at jedelstein@ trentonian.com, facebook. com/jeffreyedelstein and @ jeffedelstein on Twitter.