Watching Marae this morning on youth offenders that are in 'lock-up' and the question was posed, "Are you proud?" He had learned to play chess and while his group was placed third in a school competition, he was selected to go on to compete in a National competition. There was a bit of a pause and then a little laugh before 'Ricardo' (not his real name) replied, "Ah yeap." A beat skipped, a breath taken, a memory returned.
I was taken back to times when people I know (and love) have paused when asked this question or when praised. Even I've done that. His identity may have been withheld and the focus only on a blurry silhouette but what he did was so familiar - he leaned back and let out an uncomfortable laugh before responding. It was as if he was expecting to be punished or hit for feeling good about himself - for acknowledging his achievements. He didn't seem to know how to respond but he didn't want to sound dumb either, so he just says, "Oh yeap." He was probably hoping there wouldn't be a 'why' after that because that might really test him.
I know that feeling and it is uncomfortable ... but why do we feel like that? I can't tell everyone's story or suggest that I know why we do what we do so I'm just going to stick to my story which is the same anyway as those who are close to me.
We were raised without compliments. We were told to do things and we did them. "Go get the wood, do the dishes, make the beds, look after your sisters, bring the washing in, stir the pot," the list goes on. I don't remember hearing praises for doing any of those things, let alone for doing them well. I just got the, "Have you finished, yet? Did you wipe the benches too? Well, you took your time. Now, go do ... " There are no praises in any of that. But the times when I didn't listen properly or did the task slowly or wrong, or did something else instead - the consequences of those memories are ingrained. They're the memories that we shouldn't remember but we do.
It started with the yelling. Then the tongue would fold up between clenched teeth and a hand would rise up above their head. That's when I knew it was time to shut my eyes tight, lean back and hug my body - protect myself and hope it's over quickly. A lot of the time when I was young, my hands would try to protect my arse from the boot that was going to send me across the room but if I saw the hand raised, I knew it was my head I had to protect. I got such bad headaches after sometimes that I'd sleep and wake up to another hiding for 'being lazy'. Yeah, I remember those. Move fast to do things. Do it right or feel the consequence. Flinching and and cowering became almost instinctive behaviour.
I had to learn how to act when I received praise or compliments. Just knowing how to recognise a compliment, what they sounded like and how to accept them was really hard learning for me. I was in an institution at the time. I didn't realise that I was negative towards compliments until someone asked me why I hit people for saying nice things to me. I was 20. It made me think. Compliments were foreign to me. My feelings towards them was that people were either lying, sucking up or just getting smart. It wasn't natural. Well, it didn't feel natural. I learned in that institution how to recognise a compliment and how to accept one. The giving of compliments was easier once I accepted them myself. WOW! What an eye-opening experience!
This is the feeling I resonated with when I watched Ricardo pause, laugh and lean back. He was not comfortable with the question, 'Are you proud?' and did not know how to respond. He has probably not had enough people praise him and tell him good, positive things about himself. He has some learning to do. I hope the facility staff recognises what Ricardo did and fills his world with praise. Here's the kumara who needs someone to tell others how sweet he is because he won't. You can never go wrong with something so right.
Mā te kōrero ka tika. Mā runga i te manaaki me te aroha ka mau.
