The Voice of a Child

I was not respected as a child.  That’s not unusual.  Most of us were not.  Like many kids, I felt my needs and desires, in most arenas of my life, were an insignificant blip on a map of the adults in my world.  Sometimes seen, rarely worth acknowledging.  
How disempowering this is for a child, to be overlooked, your feelings belittled, lumped together as though all children are exactly the same? Basically, you are being told ‘You are a place holder. Nothing more.’

Thom Rutledge, self-help author, has written in depth on this subject and the devastating impact it has, saying ‘The lack of curiosity adults have about who children are is an inadvertent, but habitual, expression of disrespect.’ The point is, most adults don’t recognize it’s impact.  Each child is an individual, and as such, each will tolerate this disrespect in a different way. Some kids manage pretty well under these circumstances, confident in who they are, not needing the clarity and acknowledgement understanding would offer.  For me, it was as though I didn’t exist.  Inside I was thinking ‘I feel really strongly about this.’  ‘I have an important opinion about that.’  But, I was shut out so many times I finally came to realize it wasn’t worth opening my mouth.  No one would listen.  So I swallowed it down, suppressing my desires.  Hiding my opinions.  Sadly, stifling my voice.  

Most children experience this abuse on a regular basis, in almost every corner of their world.  It doesn’t just occur behind closed doors, hidden away like an unsightly wart.  You hear them being treated this way in school, at the grocery store, on sports teams.  It is an acceptable epidemic.

The child that’s told ‘You’re fine’ after being bullied on the playground, the teary little boy that’s offered an uncaring ‘Suck it up’ after a fall from the monkey bars, deserve better.  They deserve to be heard.  Not shut down with a quick, ready response.

Would the adults, making these callous remarks, have found it acceptable to say ‘Go away, your not worthy of my attention.’ instead?  Of course not.  But, the message is the same.

What is the result?  What affect does this have on a child?  What path will they choose to cope, to ease their pain?  Some, that are more tenacious, yet sensitive, like me, keep going back again and again, hoping for a different result. Confused by the oversight.  Convinced that if the offending adult could just understand the importance of the feelings surely the response would be different.  Others give up much sooner, unable to endure, choosing drugs, eating disorders, the Goth look, or the life of a recluse, in search of peace.  We all end up the same...beaten.

I realize now that I am worthy.  I do matter.  I speak from my heart and expect to be heard.  To those that think they can ignore me, think again.  I’m not going away.  I will not be shushed like an insignificant ‘thing.’  I am no longer that disempowered child.  I have found my voice and I speak with the knowledge and power of a warrior queen.   

I will hear the voices of the children when they speak.  I will acknowledge their thoughts, their feelings, their hurts and their dreams.  This pattern, this disease will end with me.