Friendly Fives - Children Safety Issues

Recently I answered a stranger safety question on another site, a question that I have been personally asked many times before and thought this would be helpful to my students and friends as well.

A mom's question: "My five year old daughter loves people. How can I teach her that it’s not okay to talk or hug everyone she meets?"

Here is my perspective:

When my son was five he was very open and outgoing and loved talking to adults. I was conflicted on how best to approach the subject of strangers, searching for a logical non-threatening explanation.

Adults don’t realize that we give children conflicting ideas when dealing with strangers. Although we tell our children not to talk to strangers, they witness their parents talking to strangers all the time. We say hello to people we pass in the street when strolling. We have conversations with strangers while waiting in lines at the grocery store or clothing store. When someone says how cute our child is, we sometimes turn to our child and ask, “Can you say hello to the nice lady.” Besides at this age, you are practically always at their side, so you need to prepare them for the times you are not with them.

Here are just a few of the things we teach in our free stranger awareness program we offer twice a year at our school. This program* is awesome and I recommend** everyone to go see it with your child.

First, you must define – who is a stranger to your child. When I told my five year old son he couldn’t speak to strangers, he kept assuring me he wouldn’t. Then a few months later, he asked me, “Mommy, what’s a stranger?” Blew me away! I never defined the word. I just assumed he knew what a stranger was. Remember sometimes a “stranger” can be someone they know, like a neighbor that lives down the street, but you don’t know very well.

Second, don’t tell them that all strangers want to hurt them. That’s not true. It’s better for you to teach them the scenarios that may come up. Our program does just that. We use plenty of role-play and so should you. Give them the tools to deal with strangers. We teach what to do when a stranger initially approaches or asks them a question. We cover several rules that they must follow.

One rule is that adults that need help MUST ask other adults, not children. Role-play the ploys that stranger use, like giving them candy, money, asking help to look for a missing dog, or getting that free bike out of their van or garage. Remember if a stranger asks your child to do anything, they MUST have your permission FIRST. No ifs, ands, or buts.

Third, point out people that your child can trust if he or she gets lost in a store, the cashier, the security guard, a mom with kids. If you have more than one child and are going out in a crowd, such as a fair or carnival, take a tip from schools, dress the children with the same bright colored shirts. When you need to, it’s easier to find a block of color right away.

Parents must be coaches, making their children more confident in their own abilities to handle certain situations. Even at the age of five, we can prepare them by giving them the tools and ideas that are effective. We must learn to make abstract words and concepts more concrete for children this or any age.

*copywrite program by Ambrose Academy 1994

**My recommendation is based on clients' comments, plus it is good.

Self Discipline

Most martial arts schools that teach children usually offer a word of the month or concept or question of the month.

A few months ago, our question of the month was, “What is discipline?” I'm surprised when the kids in our class give us only one definition for discipline, that it means punishment.

While this is a valid definition, we need to teach a more positive outlook on discipline. In the most basic sense, discipline means self-control, which should be applied in two ways.

First you need the strength to keep from doing the things that get you into trouble, such as dishonesty or disruptive behavior. Second is the strength you have, inside, to do what you know is right. The strength to put homework before play, to get along with siblings as well as other family members, to keep your room clean, to eat the right foods, to get the right amount of sleep, and to live up to your responsibilities to the family and household. 

Discipline can be imposed by authority figures (parents, teachers, etc). And this is, generally, a necessary and desirable first step, as discipline is often a matter of repetition in order to develop consistency.

However, the discipline we need to instill in our young people is self-discipline. It is one trait which when mastered makes life easier, less stressful, and more fun.

As adults, the consequences of an undisciplined life can be disastrous. With growing responsibility thrust upon them, an unfocused vision of life means that some may flounder for years just trying to get their act together.

Often, our martial arts school is the first to convey to young people such concepts as self-discipline, focus, respect and responsibility in very concrete ways, in ways children can relate and understand.  That is what is great about most martial arts programs.

By introducing the concepts of self-discipline, responsibility and focus at an early age, plus encouraging children to practice, explore and take these concepts outside of the kwoon (school), you help make their lives better. It's not about (the approval of) their parents, teachers, or friends, although it is a great fringe benefit when everyone is proud of you, but it's more about them (their own self satisfaction). Self-discipline is a trait or habit that yields a very satisfying and rewarding life.

Usually your students stay with you at least a couple of years if not more. We as educators (that is what we are as martial arts instructors) can make a positive impact and continually reinforce behavior that makes the child stronger in will and character. If you can get just a few of them to start thinking about it now even at the age of six, seven, or eight, they will be much better off later.

She's Come a Long Way Baby!

Saturday was testing day at our school and I for the first time in my life got emotional during a test.

I first met Emelia (names changed to protect the innocent)  when she was about to turn seven years old.  Her uncle, a student at the time, kept saying, “I need to bring her here. She really needs it. It would help her so much.” Finally her concerned grandmother brought her in and signed her up.  

Her motor skills were poor, almost non-existent. She couldn’t jump. She would look down at her feet and try, but she couldn’t do it.  Whatever we asked of her, she would need a few seconds to process the information and then look at her arm or hand as though willing them to move.  She couldn’t get her body to do anything she wanted. There was such a disconnect between her brain and her body that it was disturbing. 

The same disconnect was apparent in other areas.  She was unable to express herself.  The words just would not come. She tried and then would just stop. She also needed many more seconds to process and understand what people were saying to her. She would become embarrassed, flustered, and scared.  She seemed as though she was waiting for everyone to make fun of her or reject her. Apparently this was something she was very used to outside of our school.  She had been labeled.  And everyone labeled her. Whenever anyone spoke to her, her fists would involuntarily go to her mouth. She hid behind her hands.

After a few weeks, we discovered that there was nothing “slow” about her.  She was smart, even if she couldn’t get the words out.  She was good natured and funny.  And more importantly, she was always willing to try.  Sibok (pronounced see-bok, meaning chief instructor) Rocco Ambrose, always made sure Emelia knew how well he thought of her and her efforts.  She just needed a positive, safe, and nurturing environment. A place where her efforts were applauded, her accomplishments were lauded, and where everyone (no negative peer pressure allowed) wanted to help.  So her training began.  That was three years ago.

This past Saturday was testing day.  Ten-year-old Emelia stood in front of Sibok ready to test for her brown belt.  Her focus was intense, her eyes clear.  She listened intently to the directions given her.  She responded immediately. (Prior to the test, I had reminded Sibok to give her a few seconds to process a question, but it was unnecessary.)  She was so on top of things that I was awed. 

Her physical techniques were clean.  She generated power and flow.  The only thing that needed work was her scissors kick.  She could only get it up to her chest.  But if you only knew what an accomplishment that was for her, you would have cheered.

I had spent months with this little girl to get her ready for this test and many tests in the past. I didn’t realized how vested I was in her development until I started to tear up.  When at the end of her test, I saw her looking at Sibok, waiting for his critique; I realized that she couldn’t be called a little girl anymore.

When Sibok came into the office to get her new brown belt, he looked at me (crying and sniffling) and concerned said, “What’s wrong?”  Nothing of course, I was just so proud and awed.