Driving Lessons Teach Important Parenting Skills
(and Expand our Knowledge of the Role of Adrenalin in Parenting)
by Sarah Chana Radcliffe, M.Ed., C.Psych.Assoc.
SHE'S DRIVING ME CRAZY!!
“No! Stop right now!," I screamed frantically at my teenaged daughter. And this, after twenty years of parent education and counselling. But I couldn't help it. I felt so threatened, so stressed out, as if everything depended on this moment. Under this kind of pressure, I lost my rational abilities, my knowledge of what I "should" be saying and doing. Instead, I clutched the door and screamed again: "Stop! I mean it!"
To tell the truth, I was surprised at myself. I thought that I was beyond all that. I thought that no matter what the circumstances, I would always be able to control myself. Of course, I have "lost it" on many occasions during my sixteen years of childrearing, but not like this. It was certainly within the realm of possibility for me to shout at a youngster - something which I always regretted. So if I found myself yelling for some reason or other, I would take note, find what was causing me to over-react and under-think, and then promptly fix it. By the time the child provoked me in the same way on a subsequent occasion, I knew I would be able to handle it "the right way" - and I did.
However, this was different. This breakdown of communication between myself and my sixteen-year-old daughter was unprecedented in many respects. Firstly, this was a beloved, easy-to-raise child who virtually never provoked me. The last time I screamed at her must have been at least thirteen years ago during some frustrating toddler antics. Secondly, no matter how much I tried to anticipate the trouble and prepare myself to respond more appropriately, I just couldn't seem to get a handle on it. This was actually beyond me. Every time she did it, I reacted in the same, destructive way. I was destroying her self-esteem, her personal confidence and our very relationship: I was teaching her to drive.
Admittedly, she had driving lessons as well. I was just her "tutor." We would practice driving around the neighbourhood. We parents are not supposed to say that. We're not supposed to say that someone is "driving us crazy" since, ultimately, our choice of response is our own. If we choose to collapse in a frenzied, tantrum - well, that's our choice. No one makes us do that. No one is responsible for our temporary insanity. And I still agree with this point; I'm not changing my mind on it. It's just that, when it comes to teaching a daughter to drive, it's very different. In this case, it is possible, correct and accurate to say, "she's driving me crazy."
Now her driving teacher wouldn't understand. Her driving teacher thinks that she's the best student she ever encountered. Perhaps this is true. But the driving teacher has a special brake in her car, doesn't she? And I don't. All I can do to stop the car from swerving into the lamp pole, is scream. Which I do.
Still, I find it disappointing. I would like to be able to say in a calm, sweet voice something like, "Darling, do you see that lamp post coming up rapidly on the right? Do you think you could steer the car a little to the left, Sweetheart, so that we could avoid driving into it?" But no, not me. I open my mouth and scream: WATCH OUT WOULD YOU?? WE'RE GOING TO CRASH!" Naturally this only alarms her and makes her quite annoyed with me. I regret it immediately. In fact, I am filled with remorse. Why did I do it?
The explanation is quite scientific, actually. You see, during times of threat (both physical threats such as the appearance of a poisonous snake and psychological threat such as being the victim of verbal abuse) the body goes into the "fight or flight" response. This is a particular stress reaction in which the body gets literally ready to attack or to flee. In this readiness routine, adrenalin and noradrenaline pump rapidly through the system, readying the body for quick movement: the pupils dilate, the breathing becomes rapid and shallow, digestion slows down or ceases, sweat gland activity is increased, and blood and oxygen drain from the brain into the larger muscles becoming prepared for rapid movement.
Notice the last part of the previous sentence: "and blood and oxygen drain from the brain...". This part is very important for understanding "why I do it" (scream, that is). You see, the brain is emptying of blood and oxygen, leaving it somewhat dysfunctional apart from the emergency system it is operating regarding fighting or fleeing from danger. The frontal cortex of the brain is out of commission and the amygdala is in control. This presents a problem in parenting because the amygdala is a rather primitive part of the brain which controls emotional processing and automatic responses. The cortex is where we do our thinking - when its fed by a good supply of blood and oxygen. During the fight or flight response, no significant thinking can occur. Instead, we will run on some type of automatic programme and behave in ways of which we don't even necessarily approve (when our cortex considers things later on). In fact, it is during this stress response that our mouth seems to operate on automatic, saying things which we regret EVEN AS WE'RE SAYING THEM. It's as if one part of our brain is observing the scene and asking the other part, "What on earth are you saying??" What is being said is said is some tape programmed into your brain during childhood possibly (i.e. the voice of your mother who you never wanted to sound like or perhaps previous teachers or older siblings) or your own primitive, uncensored, uninformed emotional reaction having all the sophistication of a one year old's response to frustration.
So that explains it. I scream because of adrenalin. My life is at risk (I figure) and adrenalin saps the oxygen from my brain, leaving nothing there but a primitive scream reflex. Having figured this out, I solved the problem by taking up reading in the car. I read, my daughter drives. She doesn't really need me to point out the near crashes; she's actually doing great - much better since I stopped trying to be helpful. I stopped screaming and our relationship has healed. Perhaps there's something in this we can learn concerning everyday parenting experiences.
When we scream, obviously the stress response is at play. A child's misbehaviour or lack of co-operation threatens us and sends off the alarm in the brain, hurling us into the fight or flight response. Since almost all of us KNOW that we shouldn't be screaming, we are screaming only because of oxygen deprivation. If we put oxygen back into the brain, the siren will turn off! Therefore, do what grandma told you: Count to 10 s-l-o-w-l-y, breathing deeply with each count. Fill your brain with oxygen and start to THINK about a good parenting solution.
And don't drive with your daughter.
