For the Sake of Our Children
by Léandre Bergeron
translated by Pamela Levac
Excerpts from a father’s journal describing a life led
respecting and trusting children, from the naturalness of home birth and
breastfeeding on demand, through learning by living and through working together
on a small farm and in a rural natural food store.
May 14
When she emerges from between her mother’s legs, with her Chinese Emperor’s
topknot, covered in a greenish lotion that makes her look like a clear jade
statue, immobile, with me on my knees, holding out my hands to catch her, how
not to be blown away? Complete wonder. She takes her first breath so naturally,
opens her eye and gives me a look that is from another world. I set her on her
mother’s belly. A holy silence reigns in the room, in the entire house. She
looks at her mother as she had looked at me and then closes her eyes as if to
say that everything is proceeding as it should.
I think it was at that moment that I felt and understood the respect that we owe
our children.
Where did we get this twisted mentality that tells obstetricians to grab the
newborn by one leg, lift her up like a ham and slap her on the bottom to make
her cry out, to help her take her first breath? Even the most barbaric
barbarians never did that to their newborns.
The peaceful silence of this newborn tells us that we have made the right
choices so far. So why can’t this excellent beginning remain with us during the
rest of the time that we have together?
Why is there often a break in the relationship with our children? At birth, we
gaze at her in awe and we are centered on our child. We find her to be
beautiful, amazing and everything else but, one day, sooner rather than later,
this initial wonder is extinguished. Our daily routine doesn’t encourage
feelings of respect for our child but, instead, becomes the chore of “raising”
her. She’s demanding. We have to change her diapers, dress her fifteen – even
twenty times – a day, feed her ten or twelve times that same day, soothe her for
hours. The crack in the initial relationship has formed. We lose our patience.
Our child is no longer the miracle that she once was, but an obligation that we
have to wash, wipe, feed, drag around and raise.
I suspected when Déirdre was born that if parents knew how to meet the needs of
their children, those children would never become chores but would remain,
instead, a daily source of inexhaustible joy. Eighteen years later, I can say
that my intuition was right.
If she didn’t cry when she was born, it’s because she wasn’t tortured – before,
during or after the birth. This means that she was comfortable in her mother’s
womb thanks to a calm pregnancy, thanks to a healthy diet. This means that she
came out when her little body felt that it was time and not according to some
doctor’s busy schedule. This means that she was welcomed into this netherworld
with waiting hands, open arms, an open heart and, especially, an open mind. She
was received without prejudice, without anguish, without the fear that makes our
panicked minds cause precisely those problems we were hoping to avoid. This
means that nothing, nor anyone, can halt her full development as long as I am
there to watch over her.
May 16
She is welcomed like a distinguished guest. How should we treat distinguished
guests who honor us with their presence? I’m not talking about someone from a
so-called higher social class that we invite in order to make ourselves look
better or from whom to beg a favor. I’m talking about a person that we respect,
that we admire for who they are and who graces us with their presence, by
sharing their human warmth and compassion. Naturally, we are going to treat this
person with respect. We will seek her company, make sure that she is well taken
care of and that her needs are met. Generally, a distinguished guest is with us
for a limited amount of time. But if she decides to stay for good, then things
might turn sour. Everyone must adapt to the new situation. Her presence disrupts
our habits. Her halo begins to tarnish. She might get in the way. Sometimes
there is tension. Respect and admiration give way to power struggles. “She’s
taking up too much of my time.” “She’s there when I want to be alone.” “She is
too demanding.”
And when this guest is a newborn baby – a marvelous being, but at the same time,
someone who depends on us for even her most intimate needs – what then?
Fortunately, there is instinct...if it hasn’t been buried under piles of absurd
traditions.
June 1
Would I ever interrogate a distinguished guest? Never. I trust her. I give her
the benefit of the doubt. How dare I ask my child if she knows this or that?
Testing, assessments, interrogation at home and at school are the fastest ways
to destroy the trust that must reign between children and adults. Trust (or
confidence, which, etymologically, means faith in the other) is what symbiosis
is built on. When a child believes that a parent is on her side no matter what,
when there is complete trust and closeness, the child can develop in a healthy
manner.
If, however, the child feels constantly assessed, if parents doubt her and act
as if they don’t trust her, then the fine fabric of symbiosis is torn apart and
the child is thrown into a state of anxiety. How can this young and dependent
child possibly reestablish symbiosis? She can certainly demonstrate her anxiety
by crying. And how will the adult respond? Will the parent comfort the child? Or
simply tell the child to stop crying? If the child is comforted, symbiosis is
reestablished, anxiety dissipates, peace returns and life is bearable once
again. But if the adult tells the child to choke back her tears, not only does
the anxiety persist, the child has lost all ability to express herself.
And when the child swallows her tears, what can we see in her eyes? That she no
longer has the right to exist as she is. If she wants to survive – and this is
the fundamental drive of all beings – she is going to go crazy, off center, lose
her way, submit herself, subordinate herself to adults, lose her integrity and
lose herself in lies, hypocrisy and duplicity, simply in order to survive.
Perhaps not right away, of course. She will try, who knows how many more times,
with her tears, to reestablish symbiosis. Then one day, tired of the struggle,
she will give up. She will acquire a tolerance towards the aggression of adults
(parents and teachers) as she developed a tolerance towards the tasteless mush
she was forced to swallow as her first solid food.
June 4
I have noticed that it is not necessary to teach a child to be polite if you are
polite to your children. If we respect them, they naturally respect us. Genuine
politeness is nothing more than respect for other people that is learned through
symbiosis.
Léandre Bergeron is an author and activist who was born in
Manitoba. He studied in France and taught literature at Concordia University in
Montreal before moving to the Quebec countryside in the early 1970s with his
wife Francine to live a life of voluntary simplicity. His many works range from
a guide to home birth to the Dictionnaire de la langue québécoise and the
best-seller, Petit Manuel d’histoire du Québec. He is a tireless champion for
the underdog and has long advocated for educational, political and social
reform. His book For the Sake of Our Children, from which these journal entries
are taken, was published by Natural Life magazine’s publisher Life
Media.
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