Quotes About Children

I realized that this is what many people in our society seem to want most from children: not that they are caring or creative or curious, but simply that they are well behaved. A "good" child—from infancy to adolescence—is one who isn't too much trouble to us grown-ups.

We complain loudly about such things as the sagging productivity of our workplaces, the crisis of our schools, and the warped values of our children. But the very strategy we use to solve those problems—dangling rewards like incentive plans and grades and candy bars in front of people—is partly responsible for the fix we're in. We are a society of loyal Skinnerians, unable to think our way out of the box we have reinforced ourselves into.

What matters most is the reason for our decisions, and the extent to which we're willing to provide guidance, to support children's choices, to be there with them—all of which is a lot more challenging than just saying yes or no.

Children need to be loved as they are, and for who they are. When that happens, they can accept themselves as fundamentally good people, even when they screw up or fall short. And with this basic need met, they're also freer to accept (and help) other people. Unconditional love, in short, is what children require in order to flourish.

Obviously, things work best when parents and teachers are helping kids to become good people—and, better yet, when they're actively supporting one another's efforts.

Historians have shown that "parents in the Middle Ages worried about their kids no less than we worry about ours today," and by the nineteenth century there is evidence of bars being placed on windows to protect toddlers from falling out as well as "leading strings so that young children wouldn't wander off during walks.

Since many—too many—of our children's values and attitudes are formed by the mass media, every parent ought to offer an informal multiyear course in media literacy.

Norman Kunc, who conducts workshops on inclusive education and non-coercive practices, points out that "what we call 'behavior problems' are often situations of legitimate conflict; we just get to call them behavior problems because we have more power" than children do. (You're not allowed to say that your spouse has a behavior problem.)

Competition makes self-esteem conditional and precarious, and it has that effect on winners and losers alike. What's more, the effect isn't limited to "excessive" competition. Rather, it appears that anytime children are set against one another such that one can succeed only by making others fail, there is a psychological price to be paid. *  *  *

Where did this disposition come from? And what are our long-term goals for people—particularly children—with respect to motivation?

Empowered kids are in the best position to deal constructively with disempowering circumstances. And we, as parents, are in the best position to empower them - as long as we're willing to limit our use of power over them.

The research is clear: getting children to focus on their performance can interfere with their ability to remember things about the challenging tasks they just worked on.67

if, like Charles Silberman, we think school "should prepare people not just to earn a living but to live a life—a creative, humane, and sensitive life,"22 then children's attitudes toward learning are at least as important as how well they perform at any given task.

How will this affect children's interest in learning, their desire to keep reading and thinking and exploring?" In the case of homework, the answer is disturbingly clear. Most kids hate homework. They dread it, groan about it, put off doing it as long as possible. It may be the single most reliable extinguisher of the flame of curiosity.

My advice is to make a point of apologizing to your child about something at least twice a month. Why twice a month? I don't know. It sounds about right to me. (Almost all the specific advice in parenting books is similarly arbitrary. At least I admit it.)

The point isn't just whether children know what to expect; it's whether what they've come to expect makes sense.

All failures – neurotics, psychotics, criminals, drunkards, problem children, suicides, perverts, and prostitutes – are failures because they are lacking in social interest.

Have you never, when waves were breaking, watched children at sport on the beach, With their little feet tempting the foam-fringe, till with stronger and further reach Than they dreamed of, a billow comes bursting, how they turn and scamper and screech!

During the wars of the Empire, while husbands and brothers were in Germany, anxious mothers gave birth to an ardent, pale, and neurotic generation. Conceived between battles, reared amid the noises of war, thousands of children looked about them with dull eyes while testing their limp muscles. From time to time their blood-stained fathers would appear, raise them to their gold-laced bosoms, then place them on the ground and remount their horses.

Then came upon a world in ruins an anxious youth. The children were drops of burning blood which had inundated the earth; they were born in the bosom of war, for war. For fifteen years they had dreamed of the snows of Moscow and of the sun of the Pyramids.

This is the greatest society in all of human history, the greatest country ever. Many of the decisions being made in Washington today by both parties are threatening that greatness. And if we stay on this road we're on right now, our children are going to be the first Americans ever to inherit a diminished country.

If we don't change the way Washington operates we're going to bankrupt our children and grandchildren.

There is a battle to be waged over what kind of country we are going to leave our children and grandchildren and that battle is happening now in Washington, not two years from now.

I'm not interested in babies at all. Babies to me are like wasps: pointless, irritating and even one can ruin a picnic. They're just not my bag at all.