Crushed Heart

Crushed Heart

Shopping malls are great places to observe human behaviour, especially parents and their children. Observation of human behaviour should also lead to learning. I am not always sure what the lesson to be learned is when I find myself in “behaviour-observation” situations. Perhaps I do it naturally and trust that even if the lesson is not immediately obvious, it will reveal itself when needed.

Recently I was sitting at a table in the food court of a mall. The scenario- a child, (I would guess about 6 or 7 years old) sitting with an adult male who she referred to as Daddy. He was very quiet and barely looking at her as she played with a bag of small chocolate balls. Up comes Mommy to join them while she waits for the food.

I have to admit I was paying keen attention (minding their business as some would say) because I was intrigued by the father’s attitude and his refusal to engage in any way with either mother or child. The child continued chatting and making attempts to engage both parents in her childish play.

I missed a little bit of what preceded this exchange but here is what I observed:
Mother: Oh these are my brains, ok (as child lay a few of the balls on the table).

Then the mother proceeded to take out one ball and place it on the table. Her words to the child were, “ here is your heart”. Then she came down with a crushing blow with her hand to the little chocolate ball on the table. “ There. I’ve crushed it”

Any one else horrified with me? Until I can get past being flabbergasted so that I can process the depth and significance of this action to raising emotionally sound children, my thoughts revolve around how is this child learn about loving and caring, having empathy. And what is she learning about parenting?

As always I shake my head and think once again that when we are faced with teenagers and young adults who do not have the necessary social and emotional learning skills, we seek to place blame anywhere else but on the early years and the experiences and models these young people were exposed to. Some find it hard to relate the present behaviour patterns to these early experiences. They can’t see how the early childhood has anything to do with the teenager. In their words… they should have got over all that by now. Or, … they should know better. Or… they should learn how to ‘behave’. But who taught them?


When a child’s heart is so dramatically and obviously crushed by her own mother (even in jest or in the guise of play), and it is accompanied by a pleased-with-oneself expression, what marks are left on the child? I would really have liked to listen to that child and hear what she was thinking and how she was processing that action and those words. My best hope for now is that she is immediately able to shield herself in some way from the obvious hurt, even if it means pretending that it is not happening, or lying to herself that her mother doesn’t mean that, until she has some support to work through it.

My lessons may not present themselves for a while, but I am aware of the reminders of the importance of exploring a “client’s” early life whenever they present challenges that they are presently facing with family and other relationships. It is also a reminder to look deep and wide for the real causes of any emotional ill-health and dig them out at the roots, rather than trying to put a temporary plaster on a wound.