When people offer spontaneously, without thinking, their offhanded remarks possess a special kind of power. We frequently assume that extemporaneous comments are truthful, or at least that they honestly reflect the way the speaker feels. Unintentionally overheard comments can be especially influential, since we assume they were frank expressions, not tailored specifically for our ears, just ask Mitt Romney.
For example, our five-year old grandson prefers to wear button-up shirts instead of the polo variety. We believe that’s because of a remark that some sweet nursery or Sunday School teacher once made that resulted in him referring to button-up shirts as “Mr. Handsome Shirts”. After all, what male wouldn’t want to wear a “Mr. Handsome Shirt”.
Of course such statements are not always positive. At a parent-teacher conference my wife Diane once overheard her Kindergarten teacher tell her mother, “Don’t bother ever giving Diane dance lessons, because she has no rhythm at all.” This has stuck with her for all these years and made her feel inhibited and avoid dancing. Some people may say perhaps for the best.
In his book Uncommon Therapy famed hypnotherapist Milton Erickson describes how he once treated a young woman who was convinced that her perfectly normal feet were grossly oversized and ugly. This belief kept her from ever going outside the house. On pretense Erickson made a home visit ostensibly to see the young woman’s “sick” mother. He acted quite annoyed and grumpy and “accidentally on purpose” stepped on the young woman’s foot. As she recoiled in pain he said loudly, “If only you could grow those feet big enough for a man to see!”. His crabby and spontaneous statement had more credibility with the young woman, than all the reasoning in the world would have had, and ultimately did the trick as, she re-shuffled her thinking about her self-image.
Over the years Diane has prepared and given children’s sermons in various churches we’ve attended. She always says that the children’s sermon is an excellent way to communicate with the adults in the audience. Since the message is not intended specifically for them, their defenses are down. Also their critical judgment is often suspended, as they are distracted and charmed by the youngsters’ response to the message.
Such casual messages function similar to what are called indirect or embedded suggestions in hypnosis. An indirect suggestion is a type of instruction phrased as an offhand comment, used during hypnosis to encourage patients to follow a desired course of action without specifically telling them to do so. The power of indirect and embedded suggestions lies in their ability to by-pass normal conscious resistance and influence people on an unconscious level.
An embedded suggestion is another special kind of a hypnotic suggestion that is usually buried in some sort of mind-numbing context, like a boring conversation. The suggestion is typically repeated, but since it doesn’t stand out dramatically, it is usually not consciously perceived.
I once attempted to use a variant of these techniques with a young woman I was seeing for counseling. Outside my immediate family, she was probably the most argumentative person I had ever met. Even when I was repeating back exactly what she just told me, she would disagree. Most of all she was highly self-critical and I was trying to help her realize that she did possess some positive features. One day I was talking to her and the secretary called me out of my office, to handle an emergency. When I returned the chart containing my progress notes was in a slightly different position. It was hardly noticeable, but I realized that she had must been reading my notes. For the next session, I carefully prepared a fake progress note to put in a dummy chart that looked just like the real thing. This note contained all the positive messages that I wanted her to realize. If I had said these things to her, she would have just argued with me and rejected them. When she came in for her session, my secretary made a prearrange call to my office, and I excused myself, claiming that it was another emergency. After about 15 minutes I returned. The client seemed both pleased and frustrated. She obviously liked what she had read, but seemed bursting, wanting to argue the points. She was not able to, however, because she was loathe to admit she had been surreptitiously reading my notes.
Back in June, Ann Von Brock, a blogger with United Way in Asheville, North Carolina wrote a piece entitled, “Can One Passing Comment To a Child Really Make a Difference?” It was about the power of adult influences on a young people’s lives. She describes how her 7th grade biology teacher once wrote “has potential” as remark on her report card. Although Von Brock admits she was a an underachiever for much of her school career she says, “… somehow I hung onto the comment of that one teacher and always believed that I was a smart kid.” She concluded that seemingly casual comments can be “powerful”, “ motivating and inspiring”, but just as easily “crushing” depending upon the people, the setting, the tone, and the context.
I suppose there are two important lessons you can draw from the power of passing comments. First, if some casual comment is hurtful or discouraging, then reengage your critical thinking and challenge it. If parts still seem true, then use it as a motivator for positive change. Second use your own casual remarks constructively. You can never really know how much influence a word of encouragement or a positive comment can have in the long run. We are constantly confronted with opportunities that can change people’s lives with very little effort or cost to ourselves.
I respond to casual remarks as much as anyone. When I was in high school, the first day of varsity football practice, the coach looked at me and realized my brother had played for him a few years earlier. He said to the people standing around, “Stawar’s brother was an All Conference Guard, but Terry here isn’t good enough to carry his cleats”. I suppose that was meant to be inspirational but it ended up being more prophetic. Was it important to me or did it affect me? I would like to say no, but then I do remember it, 48 years later.
On the other hand many years ago I attended a two-day training workshop. It was in a resort area and everyone dressed very casually. On the first day I wore a tan jacket. On the second day I overheard people at nearby table talking about what people were wearing. One of them said, “You should have seen this tan jacket some guy was wearing yesterday. It was really cool.” I don’t think I had never heard a spontaneous positive comment about my apparel before. I believe I wore my “Mr. Handsome” tan jacket for at least the next decade.
Toyland Tribulations
31 OctLike high fashion, the American toy industry is dominated by trends and exclusivity. There’s nothing more satisfying than getting your kid the hot new toy that your neighbor can’t seem to find.
In fact, there was even a rather mediocre Christmas movie — 1996’s “Jingle All the Way,” which implausibly pits Arnold Schwarzenegger against Sinbad in a rather violent pursuit for the year’s most popular action figure.
Over the past 30 years, I personally have traveled far and wide in hot pursuit of Strawberry Shortcake dolls, Gameboys, Transformers, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Millennium Falcons and Zhu Zhu Hamsters.
Years ago, I remember submitting an application to Toys R’ Us for the privilege of buying a Cabbage Patch Doll. Like kidnappers, they called me a couple of days later and told me to be at the store at 10 a.m. sharp if I wanted to buy the doll. When I got there, they took a small group of us chosen ones to a darkened back room, where they had a pallet full of new Cabbage Patch dolls completely covered by a black sheet of canvas. When it was my turn, I grabbed a doll and was escorted to a cashier. I didn’t even know how much it was going to cost, but things had progressed way too far to ask questions. I felt like I was buying a couple kilos of heroin.
Trends in toys constantly repeat themselves. With our three boys and now a grandson, it seems like we have gone through at least three generations of Star Wars, as well as several of Transformers, and now Teen Age Mutant Ninja Turtle toys. And just when it seems like it’s over, the Lego version appears and it starts all over again.
We made the mistake of giving away our daughter’s extensive collection of Strawberry Shortcake dolls and paraphernalia to a family that had three girls. How did we know our daughter would end up having three girls of her own and never forgive us? We still have a couple generations of Star War toys stashed in plastic bins in our basement. I’m too lazy to dig through them for the grandkids. Besides, they belong to our sons and are my backup plan in case the government ever privatizes Social Security.
The United States Toy Industry Association reports that Americans purchase more than 3 billion toys annually. With the average cost of about $7 per toy, that quickly adds up to more than $21.2 billion in direct toy sales.
According to CNBC’s Christina Berk, however, there is trouble brewing in Toyland this holiday season. Toy sales have been declining over the past decade and the trend is accelerating, according to a Goldman Sachs report Monday. As a result, Goldman downgraded the toy industry’s rating from “neutral” to “cautious.”
According to financial analyst Michael Kelter, the “amount spent on traditional toys in the U.S. per capita is down 30 percent from $85 per person to $60 per person since 1998.”
Part of the reason may be the tremendous growth in digital games played on tablets and smartphones, which are edging out traditional board games and puzzles. When videogame consoles are included, the market share of digital games has increased from 1 percent to 20 percent in the past decade.
Declines are also expected this year in the sales of Hasbro’s flagship boy toys — Transformers and Nerf weapons. Mattel, which relies heavily on perennial girls’ favorites, such as Barbie, also has been hurt by flat sales in recent years, as well as a huge decline in the preschool toy market.
Perhaps it’s the overall economy that’s to blame, or maybe it is kid’s attraction to online games and activities. Advances in electronics have certainly made toys awfully flashy and sophisticated. Some people may think that modern toys have become too complicated and explicit to encourage creative play and they lean toward classic toys that require more imagination.
As a child, I owned a red plastic console that was advertised to track missiles and satellites in space. It had a tiny opaque screen that only showed vague shadows of small plastic cutouts of spacecraft as you turned a crank. I must have spent hours staring at that opaque screen in anticipation of my current job, at which I still spend hours staring at a screen. I would have given anything if that screen would have shown a little detail, color or miracles of miracles, actually said something.
Perhaps modern toys are not imaginative enough to stimulate much creative play. In this regard, I always think of Patricia Lee Gauch’s classic children’s book, “Christina Katerina and the Box,” in which, to her mother’s horror, a young girl comes up with a number of imaginative uses for a large appliance box on their front lawn. I was thinking about this recently as I watched our grandchildren play with sticks in our backyard, which consists primarily of sticks and tics.
Watching them jogged my memory and I remembered one of my early favorite toys — the stake. Although I had a homemade swingset that my father had constructed from pipes, my favorite outdoor toy was a three-foot long, sharpened, solid-steel stake. I think it may have once been part of a of horseshoe game or perhaps belonged to a surveyor.
While a metal stake may seem like a dangerous and inappropriate plaything, the story gets worse. I remember two games we made up using the stake. The first was “Oilwell.” My friends and I hammered the stake into the ground and then attached a rope to it. We threw the rope over a tree branch and then pulled the stake out of the ground. Then we poured water into the hole left by the stake and lowered the stake again back into the hole drilling for oil until the oil (mud) finally came gushing out of the well. We added a bunch of toy trucks, cars and plastic soldiers to the scene to complete the tableau. So basically we played for hours in a large mud hole with a large sharp metal stake suspended over our heads.
Our second game wasn’t much better. Our house had once been a boarding house, so it was configured rather oddly. For example, we had two front doors. My bedroom had its own door to the outside and it lead to a porch with a railing. The steps had been removed so it was sort of like a little balcony.
I always imagined it was the deck of a ship and our backyard was the ocean. We used the porch as our pirate ship until one day Bobby suggested that we turn it into a whaler. Of course, to do this we needed a serviceable harpoon. We took the metal stake with a rope tied to it and fastened the other end of the rope to a column supporting the porch’s roof. We then took turns hurling the stake into the yard at old basketballs and pieces of newspaper (whales).
How we managed to avoid impaling some small child or skewering one of the neighborhood dogs or cats is still a mystery to me. We did managed to loosen the column supporting the porch roof and a few years later when it finally collapsed, my father removed the porch, filled in my door, and put in a window instead.
I will leave the precise interpretation of our “games” to the Freudians out there, but in retrospect perhaps children are better off with less “creative” toys after all. When I was 11, I misplaced the steel stake and started my career making toy soldiers out of molten lead, but that’s another story. And don’t get me started on my chemistry set, its alcohol lamp and “The Great Bedroom Fire of 1961.”
Originally published in the Southern Indiana News-Tribune
Tags: back porch, cabbage patch dolls, childhood, Comedy, harpoon, hazard, Humor, imagination, metal stake, mutant ninja turtle, ninja turtle toys, strawberry shortcake dolls, toys