December 16, 2020

Raising a Quiet Kid

When I was a kid, I was bossy with my little sister and the younger children my mom took care of in our home. I was always the teacher when we played school. My family joked about how much I could talk. But my strong opinions and verbosity were saved for home; to the world I was a quiet kid. When my grandmother had a friend visiting, she was irritated with me because I couldn't bring myself to say hello or otherwise interact in a manner that would have made her proud to show me off. I was given a completely sarcastic "most loquacious" award in seventh grade, a new environment where I was anything but. When we visited distant cousins that I seldom saw, I wanted to sit and listen to the grown-ups talk at first. I always had so much fun once I went to play, but it took me time to feel comfortable enough to do so.
    
Our Introverted Child 
Now I have a child a lot like me. We are a household of introverts, but M is at the most extreme end of the spectrum. While she's always been plenty feisty with us at home when needed, and talkative when she's excited, she has always become very quiet in new situations or with new people. 

We first noticed this when she was a baby. Even with family members, whom we saw regularly, she needed time to warm up. She would hide her face, or cling a little tighter when we first got together. We all learned to not try to pass her from person to person right away, not to expect anything from her immediately. If we did, she'd cry and we'd feel badly, and it would only make the adjustment time take longer. 

Fast-forward through many, many experiences like this: 

-M's daycare provider when she was little spoke to me anxiously about M's motor development, saying one day, "She just never moves!" M was indeed slow to learn to walk, but she moved all the time at home. I think she was literally stilled by the stimulation around her at daycare. What exhibited as a motor delay may have been as much a manifestation of her temperament.

-She attended preschool for two years. We could see a lot of growth in her at home, and M often told us stories of what the teachers and other children said and did, including their facial expressions and tones of voice. But the teacher told us in conferences that she couldn't definitively say what M knew or didn't know because it was so hard to get her to speak in class or in testing. It was not until the second year of preschool that they told me she was "coming out of her shell" by doing things like responding during the daily circle time greeting.  

-This fall M was so excited to be doing soccer for the first time and wanted to play all the time at home. But at practice, she jogged in slow motion behind the other children, and was so hesitant to follow the coach's directions that she looked like she was blatantly disobeying a lot of the time. By the very last practice session, she was at last comfortable and it was clear for the first time to other observers that she was having a good time-- running hard, laughing, following instructions to the group. The coach was delighted and asked, "Where has THIS M been all season?" 

She's five now and doesn't need warm-up time when it comes to family anymore (though she does sometimes need help getting airtime since her older brother is just that much quicker to start socializing and tends to have a steady stream of things to say). But, in less comfortable, less familiar surroundings we see the same pattern. The newer or louder the situation is, the longer she is quiet. On the car ride home after an event, she'll talk animatedly about the experience, about which she has observed every detail. Our M is in fact funny, expressive, athletic, musical, and social, but the protective layer around her in many situations seems to also be a distinct part of who she is. 

Our Parent Experience
As a parent it can be easy to get frustrated with these sorts of recurring situations. Teachers and coaches and daycare providers don't know what she is capable of. They don't know how much she is learning, how well she can dribble a ball/play a tune/identify letter sounds/etc. When she doesn't appear to fully participate in the traditional sense, they must think she's not paying attention. Certainly things would be easier sometimes without these challenges. 

But most of the time, out and about and in group situations, we try to not force vocal participation (especially in the moment in front of others), lest it becomes a battle. We also try not to draw attention to M's reticence. Our pediatrician years ago recommended not calling her "shy" because she would hear that as part of her identity and it would make the challenges even more difficult. That made a lot of sense to us and so we don't use the s-word (but of course we can't predict or control when others do). Sometimes we simply respond to direct greetings and questions for her. Otherwise we let situations run their natural course, with others doing the chiming in and M observing, reminding ourselves that it doesn't matter what others think; we know she's taking it all in, whether or not she's speaking. 

There are plenty of times that if we can wait graciously, she joins in when she is ready. Meanwhile, we try to respect her process and-- before or after an outing-- name for her the strategies we notice as effective for her, like, "It seems like it helps you to watch for a while at first before you join in." We positively reinforce when she does happen to respond to a question or participate on her own. We encourage her to smile or wave if she doesn't feel like talking, and we celebrate smiles and waves too. Baby steps are progress. 

We've learned that giving an assist can go along way. I never liked being told to "just go play" when I was little because it wasn't as easy as it sounds, and it isn't easy for M. We got together last winter for a big loud holiday party with about six other families and a herd of children. M didn't know everyone really well and was inhibited to say the least. It was looking likely that she would be my sidekick for the whole evening and I wanted more for her (and me), so I took her hand and we went and sat down with a little boy who is very close to her age who wasn't running with the rest of the kids. With M next to me, I started playing with him and talking to him about the little snap circuits he was playing with, without paying much heed to M at all-- and soon she was speaking for herself and playing with the toys as well. I did a silent cheer and after a few minutes I knew she was stable enough that I could return to the grown-ups in the next room and leave her to play. She had so much fun the rest of that evening and that experience was a big success for her, socially-- and for us, in learning a way to help her when we can recognize that she wants to join in but doesn't know how to on her own. 

In a similar way, her older brother is naturally this sort of social catalyst for M a lot of times. We've seen her joining in with others, or taking risks in general, like bouncing on a trampoline or riding her bike down a big hill, when she wouldn't have done it independently but did because W did it first and made it feel more safe and accessible.   

Sometimes just creating situations where she can be one-one one with someone helps her out of her shell, too. We've had plenty of opportunities to notice over the last few months that FaceTime calls can be hard. When we talk as a group, she whispers things to me a lot but struggles to say much, and she also takes several moments to respond when asked a question. But, if we turn her loose with the iPad and let her just be with one person, like her cousin, alone, her voice is loud and clear and she has a great time, being silly, dressing up, and showing off this or that.  

Her Extroverted Niche
At least since she was two, M has been making us take our seats on the couch to watch one of her "concerts." She sings, dances, plays instruments, and doesn't allow anyone else to sing along or share the spotlight. This seems to stretch beyond play, though. 

Last year M took a dance class and I was pleasantly surprised how quickly M was fully participating. We didn't have to wait weeks or years to see her doing what the teacher was directing her to do, like we had before with swim lessons and since with soccer. She didn't raise her hand or join in with the silliness of the other girls while they did their stretches, but she danced! A little performance for parents with costumes on a real stage was a thrill that she still talks about. We had wondered whether she would get stage fright, but the lights and a room of people seemed to do the opposite for her.  

In playing the violin for over a year, we've seen this phenomenon a lot. She has played for family members and in recitals and she is eager to do so. She even played for her preschool class for show and tell one day (she might not talk to them but she'd play for them!). Sometimes there is a moment after she gets into position and before she starts when there's a slightly longer pause than one might expect, just long enough that I start to wonder if she will freeze, but then she plays the first note and she's off. 

M seems uncharacteristically comfortable on stage. We've found she will perform in situations when she definitely wouldn't have been willing to talk. It seems that music and performance give her voice, and certainly confidence, and those are big reasons her instrument has felt like such a good fit for her. 

How to Teach an Introvert?
M's violin teacher is a calm, soft-spoken person who smiles a lot and has a quiet voice. M has warmed up to her and can work well with her. She fully participates in her weekly lesson in all the ways one might expect. It wasn't always like that and it's been great to see that evolution. But there is also a group component to her violin program. Once a week she has a small group class with a different teacher, who is also kind, but is also louder and speaks quickly. In that setting, even though it's a very small group, M rarely speaks. When the teacher announces a piece they should all play together, M often sort of halfway plays along, her motions stilted and missing some of the notes because her senses are absorbed by watching the others (I'm honestly not sure if the fact that this class is held virtually via Zoom now makes this situation a little better or worse than in the past when it was in person). 

In M's group violin class right now, they are working on a group project: creating a musical story to perform. In one session recently, each of the other children in her violin group class had quickly weighed in to make one decision after another about their story. When it came time for the last decision of the day-- naming the main character-- and M was still not raising her hand or calling out like the others, the teacher called on M. When M couldn't quite bring herself to respond right then on the spot (and I couldn't save her because I didn't want to name the penguin for her), the teacher gave her an "assignment" to make that decision and let the group know by next time. Later the teacher wrote to us saying she hoped it was okay that she called on M even though her hand wasn't raised, saying that she knew M had a lot to offer, and asking our input on the best ways to help her join without causing her stress. I really appreciated that this teacher, even though she herself has a very different personality than M's, was in tune enough to manufacture a way to bring in M's opinions to the otherwise fast-paced oral decision-making process that would have left M out, and that she accommodated by giving think time and letting M submit her input another way. 

This was just a small thing that happened in one class. But it made me think of M's education in general. She'll do sports and lessons for years to come, and at some point she'll attend a school that isn't at home. This instructor had seen M for who she was, problem solved, and worked with us to best suit her. I wished, not for the first time, that I could choose or train every teacher and coach and boss she'll ever have. To develop a good rapport with her and see her strengths clearly: don't make a big deal of her quietness, know that she is actively thinking/questioning/creating in her head even if she isn't participating in traditional ways, know that you need to patiently earn her trust and find creative ways to help her open up and show her skills. Also: she's brilliant and sweet and fun and if all you see is shy and well-behaved, then you don't know her yet.   

My Own Evolution as an Introvert
In high school and college I was keenly aware that other people had dozens of friends while I had just a few close ones. If I tried to be clever or funny on the spot, I never quite hit the mark, but I had good ideas later once I'd had a little time to think. In school it can feel there is a desperate dichotomy of either fitting in or not. Because crowds and gregariousness didn't come naturally to me, I had always felt inadequate. 

Then, as a young adult, I learned more about what it meant to be an introvert. Out of the school setting, I could recognize that those people in the in-crowd weren't superior to me; they were simply extroverts, with a different temperament from mine, one that was fueled by socializing and novelty, and had with it a different set of skills than mine. I love big gatherings now and then; it just takes a lot of energy. I crave downtime afterward to feel balanced again. I could see there was a place for both types of people (and everyone on the spectrum in between) in the real world. While networking and cliques are certainly still part of the adult world, they aren't the only currency that makes one feel worthwhile. As a grown-up it's easier to find and make your own niches that work well for you. I've had my introvert stumbling blocks as an adult, like job interviews and when I have had to present in staff meetings. It takes a lot of self talk to get through it but I get a little better at it, a little more confidence that I'll live through it, each time. Thankfully we can pick and choose our roles in life and work so we are mostly in situations that are not unduly stressful to our personality type. Learning a little about introversion and extroversion made me more comfortable in my own skin, and honest with myself about who I was. I wonder if becoming a grown-up is a bit of a sigh of relief for many an introvert. 

Looking Ahead
While we may always see in M, at times, glimmers of that baby who clung tighter when we entered a new place, she isn't that baby anymore. There is big progress as she grows; her comfort zone and the tools she uses are always evolving. She has made friends through classes and sports, and this fall she would freely trot off to play in the field behind us while we watched soccer games. With several people and situations, she doesn't need time to warm up. She used to just breathe into the phone after asking to talk, but she'll talk now. She gives a big expansive wave to every car that passes us when we go on walks on the dirt road near our house.

With all the progress I see, I still worry. I know there will be more challenging situations ahead that I can't be present for, that will feel bigger than when she didn't move in daycare and didn't talk in preschool. I don't want my daughter to struggle with self esteem when she's older just because she approaches life in a quieter, more cautious way than many. I don't want her teachers to think she doesn't know things and have big thoughts just because she doesn't jump into the fray all the time. I want her to embrace who she is from a young age and focus on the gifts she has, and I want to help her identify strategies that work.  

Advice on Raising Quiet Kids from the book Quiet
With my children in mind, I've been reading for some time a book that was recommended by a friend, colleague, and fellow parent called Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking by Susan Cain. I recently finished it. The whole book was good and interesting but the last chapter, on "How to Cultivate Quiet Kids in a World that Can't Hear Them" was the most fascinating and worthwhile. If you don't have time to read the whole book, I recommend reading even just this chapter if you have a quiet child in your life-- and probably most of us do. Here are some of the big lessons I gleaned from it.  
  • Respect the way your child is; it is valid. Don't try to cure introversion. Think of it as a learning style. Cultivate the strengths of the way they are.
  • Know that there are hugely successful introverts in the world who are successful not in spite of, but because of, their temperaments (the book has many, many examples). 
  • Develop strategies for those times when your child needs to step out of their comfort zone for a bit. Talk with them ahead of time about what a situation will be like, and about simple ways they might respond to people to be polite and let them know they are listening, like giving a wave or a smile if they aren't ready to talk. Leave space after new situations like this for downtime. Some thrive on being busy and having lots of activities, but some don't. 
  • Try to develop a good sense for the times when your child can benefit from that little push to get over the hump, vs. when pushing them would be too much and would overwhelm them.  
  • Know that many introverts will seem reluctant to any suggestion of a new activity or opportunity. Don't force, but encourage them to try things. They need encouragement and little nudges for things that may cause anxiety at first but that they will be glad they did afterward, and bit by bit they will learn from these experiences that it's worthwhile to try things. 
  • Help them know and talk openly about what their style is. 
  • Stay nearby in new situations for as long as they seem to benefit from your presence. (I noticed early on that M was willing to enter the sandbox or playground or birthday party if she was holding my hand or close to me but not on her own.)  
  • Respect and celebrate every small step (eye contact, saying yes to a request to play...). They are all giant strides in the world of a kid.      
  • Help purposely set up play times and friendships with kids of similar temperaments or younger children. (We've often found M is more comfortable and quicker to interact with those she perceives as younger or smaller.) 
  • Arrive early to new/potentially intimidating situations. It is much harder to have to join an existing active group. 
  • Introverts often have one or two deep interests not necessarily shared by their peers. Praise them for these, encourage them, and help them find like-minded communities and friends. 
  • Structure group work when it happens so kids have clear roles. But also teach and expect kids to work independently sometimes (I see this one as especially relevant for teachers).
  • Give them think time before responding; don't prize speed.  
I've been thinking a lot about all of the smart advice from Quiet lately and hope to keep it in the forefront of my mind. I think this would all be important no matter where M spent her days, but of course right now she spends her days mostly at home as a homeschooler. I feel homeschooling her is doing her a service in a lot of ways. Understanding her temperament and respecting it in the way we do things is one big way I can personalize her education. I certainly don't force group work on her! I try to keep my tone and voice level when I'm frustrated with her because she is particularly sensitive to what she perceives as a "mad voice." I build her interests into the day. We help her find her voice when she needs that help; having an older sibling gives a fair amount of practice. At the dinner table, we try to teach her times and ways that it's okay to interrupt to get a word in. Of course she's not getting as much socialization practice as she could, this year in particular. I do consider that a lot. Then again I don't believe that just the fact of being in an environment with other people necessarily makes you become more socially adept. (Depending on the situation, it may just cause you to turn inward or put up more barriers.) We use the opportunities we have right now to prepare her ahead of time. We encourage and notice all the small steps she makes. She has so many strengths and we focus on those. I hope that by doing her early schooling in an environment where she is highly comfortable and can speak her mind freely and where she can develop confidence will help her in the long run. 

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