One is not the loneliest number any more than No is the most negative word. According to Harry Nilsson’s 1968 title song, One was sad because it spoke of an absence and the longing when someone has gone away. It made for great melancholic song writing. But in reality, it told only half the story. Perhaps the departer was abusive. Perhaps the departer was controlling. Perhaps the party remaining behind felt suffocated and the separation is not only needed but essentially to break the neurotic liaison. The word, no, always tells half the story and is usually usurped by authors who want to tell of a rebellious and anarchic narrative. Fast forward half a century, no has become a much more powerful word, not because of its simple opposition, but because of its justified assertion.
No is a declaration for self. Parents and their kids exchange this word with each other as demarcation of their identities and hence a struggle of opinions ensues. But the dialog is far more enriching when kids assert their opinions and challenge decisions as their voices gradually become equals. Wouldn’t parents rather raise kids who challenge the status quo than to be subservient to it?
No is a statement of independence. We do things for our kids. Then we do things with our kids. We then standby and watch them repeat what they have learned and finally, they do it for themselves without our supervision. Learning to tie their shoes is a perfect example following this learning curve as proposed by Furman’s work on independence. Everything is like tying shoelaces, it’s just a matter of complexity.
No has become a much more powerful word, not because of its simple opposition, but because of its justified assertion.
No is an affirmation of control. Essential to a child’s identity and independence is their need to exert a reasonable level of autonomy. Refusing to being picked up early from school by a parent so she can hang out with her middle-school friends before she takes public transit home by herself sometimes is not only reasonable, but essentially for her sense of self-determination. Allowing room for your child to exert this aspect of control not only builds trust, but accountability.
No is an invitation of partnership. When an adolescent is secure in her own identity and is confident in her choices to exert a reasonable level of autonomy, the young adult can be far more cooperative. Their contribution is a true act of cooperation to bring about a higher outcome and little or no time is spent on reclaiming individuality as that is not disputed. Flushed with their own ideas and experiences, they can and should challenge another’s thinking in a collaborative context. This level of alliance is only possible when one begins the conversation with “There’s an alternative…”
We have taught our children well to listen to our no’s. As parents, it is difficult to have this spoken back to us. But as good parents, trust that we have raised good kids. The conversations are now different. Our children are now older. The conversations are more mature. Don’t shun the word because it chimes of a bedtime routine from once upon a time; embrace it because the word can actually begin new dialogs and possibly a new relationship. And that’s something worth singing about.
