This issue cuts to the bone. For us, the greatest positive impact on the children comes from flipping the traditional 90/10 ratio in meetings with the school. Instead of schools, principals, and teachers dedicating 90% of their time and energy focusing on the child and only 10% to themselves. At some point, there’s no more water to wring from the dishcloth. The benefit of continuing to twist and turn is minimal—the child is as it is.
Reversing this approach makes all the difference.
When 90% of the focus shifts to how we as adults—including schools, principals, and teachers—act, behave, and improve our knowledge and skills, and only 10% remains on the child as deviant or problematic, the results are great. Just amazing. Everyone benefits. I applaud the adults who have the courage to reflect on themselves. Flip the script!
As the recipient of such parenting (and undiagnosed as ADHD until 2 years ago) I can understand both that my parents were the product of their upbringing which was about compliance and corporal punishment, and give how heritable ADHD is, that my parents were likely dealing with their own undiagnosed ADHD.
I know I used unhelpful parenting strategies with my two ADHD kids who, like me, weren't diagnosed. I lost it often because they were really challenging and I didn't know how else to get them to do the things needed. It's tough being a parent at the best of times, let alone having kids who have particular and unrecognised needs. Both were (and still are) highly intelligent, got bored easily, needed time to process and to shift from activity to activity. Motor restlessness isn't always feature of ADHD - and this is why girls and women are often not diagnosed until later in life. But I tell you what - doodling and fidgeting have been my mainstay during meetings!
Great material. The protagonist in my current teen novel series is a girl with ADHD in the 1920s and this figures prominently in her self confidence and creates performance anxiety when the stakes are ramped up (she's unable to perform a feat of magic for reasons unknown to her and she blames it on her own "insufficiency"):
And then Sarah spoke. Her words hit the hardest, cutting through me. “She can’t focus,” she said, her voice cold and dismissive. “She never could. She’s not going to help us. We're on our own.”
I flinched. Suddenly, I was eight years old again, standing in front of a classroom as the teacher scolded me for not paying attention. Lazy girl, stupid girl. The other kids had laughed, and I’d stood there, cheeks burning, unable to explain why my mind had wandered, why I hadn't heard the question. They always thought they were teaching me discipline, but the only lesson I learned that day was how to hate myself.
Now, I was letting my friends down in the same way. And I hated myself accordingly.
This issue cuts to the bone. For us, the greatest positive impact on the children comes from flipping the traditional 90/10 ratio in meetings with the school. Instead of schools, principals, and teachers dedicating 90% of their time and energy focusing on the child and only 10% to themselves. At some point, there’s no more water to wring from the dishcloth. The benefit of continuing to twist and turn is minimal—the child is as it is.
Reversing this approach makes all the difference.
When 90% of the focus shifts to how we as adults—including schools, principals, and teachers—act, behave, and improve our knowledge and skills, and only 10% remains on the child as deviant or problematic, the results are great. Just amazing. Everyone benefits. I applaud the adults who have the courage to reflect on themselves. Flip the script!
yes!!! I applaud you.
As the recipient of such parenting (and undiagnosed as ADHD until 2 years ago) I can understand both that my parents were the product of their upbringing which was about compliance and corporal punishment, and give how heritable ADHD is, that my parents were likely dealing with their own undiagnosed ADHD.
I know I used unhelpful parenting strategies with my two ADHD kids who, like me, weren't diagnosed. I lost it often because they were really challenging and I didn't know how else to get them to do the things needed. It's tough being a parent at the best of times, let alone having kids who have particular and unrecognised needs. Both were (and still are) highly intelligent, got bored easily, needed time to process and to shift from activity to activity. Motor restlessness isn't always feature of ADHD - and this is why girls and women are often not diagnosed until later in life. But I tell you what - doodling and fidgeting have been my mainstay during meetings!
Great material. The protagonist in my current teen novel series is a girl with ADHD in the 1920s and this figures prominently in her self confidence and creates performance anxiety when the stakes are ramped up (she's unable to perform a feat of magic for reasons unknown to her and she blames it on her own "insufficiency"):
And then Sarah spoke. Her words hit the hardest, cutting through me. “She can’t focus,” she said, her voice cold and dismissive. “She never could. She’s not going to help us. We're on our own.”
I flinched. Suddenly, I was eight years old again, standing in front of a classroom as the teacher scolded me for not paying attention. Lazy girl, stupid girl. The other kids had laughed, and I’d stood there, cheeks burning, unable to explain why my mind had wandered, why I hadn't heard the question. They always thought they were teaching me discipline, but the only lesson I learned that day was how to hate myself.
Now, I was letting my friends down in the same way. And I hated myself accordingly.