internal vs. external locus of control – Lion's Whiskers

Frogs’ Legs: Two Tales

admin — Tue, 19 Jul 2011 00:00:00 +0000

Two very short stories that illustrate internal vs. external locus of control, or Are you and Inny or an Outy?

Two frogs decided to go on a journey and see something of the world. Eventually they came to a farmyard, and while they were hopping across it, the farmer happened to set down a pail of new cream in their path. As they were both in mid-leap, they could not help but splash down into the bucket.

“Oh, help!” cried the first one, flapping at the slippery inside of the pail. “Oh, help, we can’t reach the top! What shall we do!? We shall surely die!”

The second one was busy kicking, although with nothing to push against but cream he could not leap up and out. He kept trying, however, while his partner wailed and moaned and flapped at the high smooth walls.

“We’ll never make it out of here,” moaned the first frog, and in despair, sank to the bottom of the bucket and drowned.

But the second frog didn’t stop kicking, kicking, kicking, and before long he had churned that cream into butter. Soon enough it was so hard that he could jump out of the pail and hop back to his pond.

Two old frogs were on their way to the swamp on the other side of the forest, when they fell into a very deep hole. A large group of tree toads happened to witness the accident, and they all gathered around the rim of the hole. “Oh dear, they’ll never get out,” one of them said. “It’s just way too high to jump,” and they began to repeat that over and over, as tree toads do. “They’ll never get out. They’ll never get out.”

Down in the hole, one of the frogs heard that and despaired, but the other frog kept jumping, and falling back, and jumping, and falling back, and jumping until finally he managed to grab the rim of the hole and scramble out.

“Wow, that was amazing,” the tree toads trilled as the frog began hopping away.

“Eh?” he said, looking around. “Whatcha say?”

“That was amazing!” the tree toads chorused again.

The frog shrugged. “Sorry, can’t hear you. I’m hard o’hearing.” And away he hopped.

Go Climb a Tree!

admin — Sun, 03 Jul 2011 00:00:00 +0000

One of my son’s favorite activities as a child was to climb trees. Any tree would do: spindly little Charlie Brown Christmas-type trees, grand dame oaks, distinguished firs, sticky pines, scratchy cedars, or the budding cherry blossom—his all-time favorite. At around age three, he began his tree-climbing pursuit in earnest. He started developing his physical courage muscles on the trees in our yard. It didn’t take long for him to master the first few limbs on his favorite tree and, like Jack and his beanstalk, want to spend everyday climbing higher and higher and higher. It was those first few attempts at getting higher that our coaching as his parents became really important!

My son, E., age 8

He’d hang from his arms on the lowest limb, gaining an appreciation for gravity and the feel of his feet off the ground. He wasn’t fearless to begin with. And neither were my husband and I. Heights are one of my husband’s few dislikes; though he has gained mastery over this particular fear by continuing to place himself in situations that test it. We are both mindful not to pass along our fears to our kids—as much as possible! We also wanted to coach our kids to gain what social psychologists term an ‘internal locus of control’. The natural evolution for a child is to move from more of an external locus of control (relying on his/her parents, fate, luck, or other external circumstances to guide decision-making and behavior) to an internal locus of control (whereby a child is more self-motivated, self-disciplined, and believes his/her behavior is guided by personal decisions and/or efforts). Securely attached kids, it turns out, also show a higher degree of internal locus of control.

To learn more about how I coached my son to develop physical courage, READ ON!

First of all, we never lifted our son into a tree to get him started. He had to reach new heights all on his own steam. He

Once he was physically capable enough to reach for his next tree branch, as it would seem nature had intended, he also had the language capacity to ask “Mommy, do you think I’m okay up this high?” “I don’t know sweetie ‘cause I’m not in your body, what do you think? How do you feel right now?” would invariably be my typical responses. I wanted to reflect back his question in ways that would force him to listen to himself instead of turning his gaze to me as his safety gauge, thus drawing his attention from the task at hand and really putting him at risk!

Of course, I was spotting my son carefully, while working on not projecting my own anxiety or judgments. Of course I was nervous for him in moments—as was my husband. Instead, I channeled my anxiety into coaching and reassuring him that I was his spotter. I climbed trees right along with him to refresh my memory of what is required physically, mentally, emotionally to climb a tree well. I reminded him that at any time, he could slowly, carefully climb back down. I coached him to pay attention to whether or not he had a handle on the limb a.k.a. the situation! If he didn’t feel okay, I coached him to ask for help. My husband channeled his worry into building a few tree forts together, at reasonable heights, to distract our son from always wanting to peak out at us from the tippy tree tops.

I found my son in his favorite tree one day when he was seven and his feet almost touched the ground from the height of the tree’s lowest limb. He was in tears. I asked him what he was sad about. His response, “Mommy, I never want to grow up. EVER!” I was flummoxed for about a moment. I was impacted by his grief about getting older. Fortunately, I was wise enough not to start off with a lecture about merits of adulthood, but zipped it and asked a simple question instead: “Why?” I asked. “’Cause grownups don’t climb trees.” “Are you kidding me? Of course they do! Firefighters climb trees to rescue kitties. Tree surgeons heal sick trees. Loggers climb to cut down or trim trees. Telephone service people climb trees to install phone wiring. And so on, and so on.” His response: “Oh! I guess I can grow up then!”

The long and short of it is that we made the inspired decision to move to an island covered in trees to truly support our son’s love of tree-climbing, escape other parents’ fearful glares when he climbed at the local playground, show our son that adults can still climb trees and have fun whilst following their own bliss, and raise our kids free-range style for awhile.

The truth about the internal vs. external locus of control personality continuum is that sometimes we need to rely on an external locus of control to help us out of sticky situations: a prayer to God to relieve a worried mind, excusing a poor test result due to having missed the review class, asking a friend or parent what advice they may have, or otherwise forgiving ourselves and cutting ourselves some slack. But, we won’t always be there to be our child’s reliable spotter, or even cheerleader, so my goal is that my kids develop an internal locus of control to know that they are, in fact, the masters of their own destiny. When my now-adolescent son peeks out of tree tops on a daring ropes course, his fearless smile wide with pride, he knows he did it all by himself…and that he’s solely responsible for getting himself safely back down to the ground! I still breathe a sigh of relief when his feet finally touch the ground, offer up thanks for his safe return, and beam with pride myself as he now laps me on this wacky ropes course called LIFE.

A Footnote:

On the eve of our departure from our island home, on our way by RV to Upstate New York, a film crew making a movie about people of all ages who continue to love the lost art of climbing trees came knocking at our door. “You’ve come to the right place! He’s in the backyard climbing,” I said, pointing them in the direction of our son’s favorite tree.

Go out and climb a tree TODAY!

What’s your favorite tree-climbing story? Post it in our comment box…we’d love to hear from you!

My son inspired his sister to take up tree-climbing, too. B., age 5

Focus Locus Hocus Pocus!

admin — Thu, 23 Jun 2011 00:00:00 +0000

As a parent, I find that the more widely I read on subjects not related to parenting, the more I find ideas that give me a new way to think about my parenting decisions. While reading articles on business and marketing, I came across the subject of Regulatory Focus Theory.

This theory, formulated by Professor E. Tory Higgins at Columbia University, proposes that there are two categories of people when it comes to goals. There are the people who have a Promotion Focus, and people who have a Prevention Focus. Promotion Focus is what motivates a person to move toward an aspirational goal, working actively to achieve something that counts as an advantage. The Higgins lab puts it this way: “A promotion focus emphasizes hopes, accomplishments, and advancement needs.” The Prevention Focus creates more cautious behavior, motivated by preventing loss, and is guided by obligation, duty, and rules. As the Higgins Lab says, “A prevention focus emphasizes safety, responsibility, and security needs.” A person’s regulatory focus can either be chronic or momentary, i.e. normal state or induced by a given situation. Promotion-focused individuals may speak of their goals using language such as “I could” “I want to” “I plan to” “I hope to,” while prevention-focused individuals may use language such as “I should” “I have to” “I’m supposed to” while discussing goals.

In marketing and communication, knowing what chronic regulatory focus your audience is likely to have helps you get your message across effectively: “This product will give you a healthy, youthful glow!” vs. “This product will reverse the signs of aging!” “Help your kid get a jump start on his next grade this summer,” vs. “Don’t let your child lose ground this summer!” It’s a subtle difference, but one that advertisers can use very deliberately. And since regulatory focus can be induced, marketing and advertising can play that card as well. (I read about this first in a business magazine, remember?)

So what’s this got to do with parenting? There are at least two connections that I see:

1. We are well-advised to have some idea of our own chronic regulatory focus when it comes to our goals and decision-making, especially as they relate to our families. If we have a prevention focus, we will perhaps be more susceptible to product advertising that plays on our fears and our impulses to be cautious to avoid negative outcomes. The myriad of safety products in the parenting marketplace is stunning, and is clearly targeted toward parents with a prevention focus. And here’s the catch: as the Higgins Lab has found, regulatory focus can be experimentally induced, or situational. Thus when it comes to parenting, we may all skew toward the prevention focus, because what parent doesn’t want to prevent harm or danger to her children?

However, intellectual courage allows us to be critical consumers of information and ask questions about the assumptions that are at work in the media. If we have a chronic prevention focus we can ask if it is being deliberately poked and prodded into a heightened and exaggerated state by the the messages we hear and see; if we find ourselves favoring a momentary or temporary prevention focus we can question whether it is being induced by manipulation of the information we are being shown. We know about internal vs. external locus of control in parenting; we know that being overly protective of our children robs them of the ability to develop self-efficacy and self-reliance. So can we deliberately induce our own prevention focus to become more of a promotion focus (where the advantage is a more courageous and empowered child)? Can we step away from the blazing red warning signs that flash at us from every side and say, “Actually, go ahead and climb that tree, sweetie. I believe you can do it and I’ll watch you from here.”

2. The second reason that Regulatory Focus Theory may be useful to think about in a parenting context is to understand our children’s regulatory focus when it comes to goals (our goals and their goals). It’s essentially a more subtle understanding of a rewards vs. punishments system, carrots vs. sticks. We may be promotion-focused ourselves, and think that offering goodies as incentives is a great way to motivate our child. But if the child is prevention-focused, the goodies may not be that tempting, or not tempting enough to make up for a perceived loss (loss of play time while doing chores, for example). Conversely, we may be prevention-focused ourselves, and find that our dire warnings about consequences fall on the deaf ears of our promotion-focused child (the child who is busy climbing the bookcase to ferret out the t.v. remote for the seventh time, for example. There may be other reasons, such as lack of impulse control, at work in this example, but I think it’s a good illustration of climbing toward a goal!).

I have learned through experience that my own daughter is much less motivated by potential rewards than she is by potential losses. Right now (she’s 12) we operate in a “sleepover-based economy,” where the status quo = two sleepovers (Friday and Saturday) each weekend. Because I want her to develop an internal locus of control, I have told her I will no longer remind her about her chores, and that if she forgets any of her chores on a given day she loses a sleepover. Forget another day, and there goes the second sleepover. What I could do is experiment in shifting her to a promotion focus by making the status quo = zero sleepovers; then, doing chores without reminding for half the week earns one sleepover and doing chores for the second half of the week earns a second sleepover. But for right now, her prevention focus is helping her achieve the goal of remembering her chores.

“But wait, Jennifer!” you say, “Why would you want to shift her to a promotion focus if the prevention focus is working?”

Let’s go back to the Regulatory Focus Theory. An eager, promotion-focused person is likely to be more flexible and creative in finding ways to reach a positive outcome; a vigilant, prevention-focused person is likely to be more thorough and diligent in taking steps to avoid a negative outcome. Both can generate success, both can achieve goals. (Both approaches can potentially create an A+ student, for example, or a junior tennis champ, if that’s your idea of a great goal.) A prevention-focused child might be very good at studying for and acing tests, but not so good at thinking outside the box – he likes the box. He wants to stay in the box. A promotion-focused child will stack the boxes in order to climb up them to reach a goal, but might not study for a test in a subject that doesn’t interest him.

So why favor promotion focus? Because Lion’s Whiskers is about courage! By definition, the prevention focus is protective and vigilant against threats and losses; in other words, it’s about fear and external locus of control. The duties, obligations and responsibilities which guide the prevention focus come from the outside – from parents, teachers, society, church, and state. Is innate temperament a factor in regulatory focus? Yes, research suggests so, but research also suggests that environment and nurturing play a role as well. Babies are mostly aspirational, promotion-focused – they know what they want and do whatever they can to achieve it (screaming is an effective strategy). It’s only as they mature and learn rules and expectations that they may become more prevention-focused. Thus, as parents we may have the opportunity to influence our children’s regulatory focus and nudge it toward promotion and away from prevention. Ultimately, we want our children to eagerly reach for their own goals, not just follow the goals we impose on them because they have to.

Regulatory focus isn’t the only factor at play by any means, but it’s a useful one to take into account in our conversation. I hope you find it that way.

Sources:

Halvorson, Heidi Grant, Getting Others to Embrace Risk, Harvard Business Review, May 23 2011

Kirmani and Zhu, Vigilant Against Manipulation: The Effect of Regulatory Focus on the Use of Persuasion Knowledge, American Marketing Association

Mooradian, Herbst and Matlzer, The Interplay of Temperament and Regulatory
Focus on Consumer Problem-Solving Modes, Social and Personality Psychology Compass 2/4 (2008)

Summerville, Amy and Neal J. Roese; Self-Report Measures of Individual Differences in Regulatory Focus: A Cautionary Note, 2009

HELP!

admin — Thu, 16 Jun 2011 00:00:00 +0000

I’ve been thinking about emotional courage, and the struggle we have, as parents, to encourage our kids to do things on their own. Lisa has explained this beautifully in her posts about internal vs. external locus of control. Ironically, although we want our children to learn to look within themselves when they want to accomplish something, one aspect of emotional courage is having the courage to ask for and accept help. Yes, we want to teach the kids is to discern the difference between needing help and not really needing help. Much of the time, when K. asks for help, she doesn’t really need help, she just doesn’t want to put in the effort or she wants company or attention – she has some other need that isn’t really a need for assistance with the task at hand.

Leaving aside for the moment how we discover and answer what the true need actually is, I want to follow this idea of knowing when you really need help, and how you find the courage to ask for it in a successful way – especially when we have become proud of our ability to do things ourselves. Lisa has talked about this in her Push-Pull Factor. I’ve tried to make a point of saying things along the lines of, “If I know you can manage it yourself I’d like you to give it a go. If it’s something you really can’t manage on your own I will help you. That is my job.” Or when she hands me something and says, “Will you hold this for me?” I will say, “Is there a reason you can’t put it down on the table we are standing at?” I’m trying to get her to notice for herself if she really needs my service at this particular moment or if it’s actually something else she wants.

That being said, I also want her to know that she should not hesitate to ask me if she really does need help. My job is to be ready to respond quickly to an authentic need, especially if she hasn’t yet figured out that she does need help. It’s a bit like being a life guard, I suppose. There you sit by the pool, doing nothing at all but observing, until someone starts choking and flailing. That’s when you jump in, not before.

I’ve looked for stories that demonstrate asking for and accepting help, but before I get to those I want to mention a good story about when not to ask for help, and that’s The Boy Who Cried Wolf. In the first few months that K. was home from Ethiopia she had a couple of laughs at my expense by putting on a show of crying and sobbing to see if I would come running – which I did. I suppose it was important to her to know I was paying attention, but I had to nip that behavior in the bud. Calling 911 for a frivolous reason can land you in jail; a few tellings of TBWCW seemed to get us past that issue.

Anyway, as for stories about asking for or accepting help: a very common tale type from around the globe is the “animal helper tale,” and these stories frequently involve the hero accepting help from an animal whose capacity to help seems rather dubious – a mouse, a bird, a frog, etc. I found this one in the Usborne Book of Myths and Legends, and it’s from Africa, although I’m afraid I haven’t been able to track down where, exactly. Congo region is my closest guess. I have retold it in very condensed form; when you retell it, please go ahead and add details that you know will delight your child. If you are unsure how to do this, please read my post on how to tell a story.

There is a village that the sun does not shine upon, because a neighboring chief down the river has stolen the sun. The people of this dark village miss the sun and wish they could have it back again, and a brave young man, Mokele, offers to find it and bring it back. As he begins to build himself a canoe for the journey, the wild animals come to him and ask to go along to help because they miss the sun, too; we have excellent hearing, say the wasps, I have good eyesight and can find things, says the turtle. A leopard comes, a bird of prey comes – eventually the canoe is filled with animals with hardly any room for Mokele, who has welcomed them all in a most gracious way on this mission. When they reach the neighboring village Mokele begins negotiating with the chief for a price to return the sun; this chief does not want to give up the sun, but is frightened by the leopard into agreeing to decide a price. When he goes off to consider how to get out of this promise, he tells his daughter to make a poisoned drink to give Mokele – but the wasps have flown behind and listened to that plot, and they warn Mokele. Meanwhile the other animals have begun searching for the sun, and the turtle finds the sun in a cave and pulls it out. The bird of prey flies the sun back up into the sky, the daughter falls in love with Mokele, and the young man and the young woman return with the animals to their village, where the sun is shining brightly for everyone again.

Returning the sun to the sky is a pretty big job, and I think that Mokele was wise to know he would need help. He showed courage and initiative to volunteer for the job, but he didn’t claim to be able to do it alone.

The Nemean Lion

admin — Tue, 07 Jun 2011 00:00:00 +0000

We have a lot of lion stories on this blog! Choose a warm weekend night this spring to tell this one, but first, see if you can find and identify the constellation Leo. Sharing a story under the starry sky is magical, and because you do it in the dark, your child’s imagination is wide open. (We see Leo in the spring in the Northern Hemisphere: if you are in the Southern Hemisphere, you are of course looking for Leo in the autumn sky.)

Mighty Herakles (Hercules to the Romans) was made mad with rage by Hera, the wife of Zeus. In this fit of madness he murdered his wife and children. As punishment and penance, he was

assigned twelve labors, or enormous tasks, (giving us the word “Herculean” for a huge job). The first of these labors was to slay the dreaded Lion of Nemea.

Now, you must understand that Hera and Zeus often quarreled, and they chose favorites among mortals to champion and needled each other through those helpless surrogates. Because the people of Nemea had a shrine to Zeus, Hera had sent a monster to torment them: a lion that was said to be twice the size of normal lions, with a pelt impervious to arrows and blades. Herakles, too, was a favorite of Zeus, which was why Hera had afflicted him with murderous rage. (We have been discussing internal vs. external locus of control on this blog, recently, with explanation of how children learn to take responsibility for themselves, thus developing self-efficacy. I’ve also discussed it in the context of Ancient Greece with my reviews of Trojan War books for kids.)

When Herakles reached the woods of Nemea, where the monster had caused such devastation among the people, he quickly found the lion’s den. Discovering that it had two entrances, he blocked one up with a giant stone and then rushed in through the other entrance, wrestling the lion to the ground. The beast roared and struggled, but Herakles gripped it by the throat, strangling it to death. The hero then tried to skin it, but his knife was useless. It wasn’t until he used the lion’s own claw that he succeeded. Herakles ever after used the lion’s impenetrable skin as his own armor. And that was one labor done.

Hera honored the lion by placing him into the sky as the constellation Leo. In reflecting on this story, I think of the mighty Herakles with the lion’s pelt to protect him from physical harm, and it just seems ironic to me. He didn’t need that armor to protect him from the terrifying Nemean Lion, obviously! He had no shortage of physical courage or strength or prowess. What he needed protection from was the manipulation of his emotions and actions by the gods. If I look at the capricious Greek gods as metaphors for my strongest impulses, it seems to me that the armor, the protection, the courage I need is the courage to face my negative emotions (anger, jealousy, fear) without going mad; but more than that, that if I do let my negative emotions run away with me in a destructive way, I then face the consequences of my actions with self-reflection. Taking responsibility for my actions may mean more than performing twelve labors – what, after all, did Herakles get out of all those labors other than even bigger muscles? If we are to be something more than puppets to our emotions, then we must own our mistakes, sit with the knowledge of what we have done or failed to do. We cloak ourselves with the impenetrable armor of money, or technology, or social status to protect us from knowing we have done wrong, and from the necessity of changing our behavior next time.

As a parent, I have tried hard to show K. that “I wasn’t trying to, it was an accident,” is not really a sufficient reply when carelessness or anger cause harm. “The Devil made me do it,” or “It was the will of jealous Hera,” or “I was upset when I said that,” don’t absolve us of responsibility for our actions – whether accidental or deliberate. Neither does rushing off to make amends with some Herculean effort of atonement to show how very very very sorry we are. If nothing is learned, the results will be no different next time and the potential for damage just as great. Carrying around proof of my atonement may only be a way to deflect further punishment and avoid responsibility and maintain an external locus of control.

I’ll try to find Leo in the sky tonight, and point it out to K. while we talk about Herakles and the Nemean Lion. Maybe I’ll ask her what she thinks. Maybe I’ll tell her what I think. Maybe we’ll just look at the stars.

You might want to read: our 5-Minute Courage Workout on Saying I’m Sorry, as well as our long post describing what is emotional courage.

photograph from Starrynighteducation.com

Courage Book Review – The Wanderer

admin — Mon, 30 May 2011 00:00:00 +0000

Last week I reviewed two illustrated versions of the Iliad. Today, we take up the tale with adaptations for kids of the Odyssey. Although with the earlier epic highlighted the control of the gods, the takeaway for this week is self-control. Once again, we explore internal vs. external locus of control.

Again, we have the masterful Rosemary Sutcliff at work with The Wanderings of Odysseus. As many adapters of the story do, she rearranges the events into a chronological narrative. (The original is full of flashbacks and intercut with “meanwhile, in Ithaca” scenes.) Sutcliff moves Odysseus briskly from the smoldering ruins of Troy to the island of the Cyclops, where they are captured by the bloodthirsty Polyphemus. From the extreme external locus of control found in the Iliad, we now have an interior locus of control. “The Greeks were near despair. But there was a plan forming in Odysseus’ head, by which he might save at least some of them.” In Homer (I have the Fitzgerald translation) Odysseus says, “And now I pondered how to hurt him worst, if but Athena granted what I prayed for. Here are the means I thought would serve my turn.” Odysseus gets credit now for the plan; you may recall Athena was responsible for putting the thought of the Trojan Horse into his mind. So we have moved to an interior locus of control in this narrative – and it will be much to the regret of Odysseus, for as they escape from the blinded Cyclops, the cunning man gloats and mocks: “If anyone asks who blinded you, tell them it was Odysseus, son of Laertes and Lord of Ithaca, Odysseus the Sacker of Cities!” It is this moment of foolish braggadocio that costs Odysseus so dearly, for Polyphemus cries out to his father, Poseidon, god of the sea, to take revenge. Oops.

A beautifully illustrated version of the story, The Adventures of Odysseus by Hugh Lupton and Daniel Morden, although shorter and with fewer episodes, follows the structure of the original more closely. We have a quick prologue about the Trojan War and then “Nine long years had passed since that great and terrible victory.” The retellers give us a quick update on Penelope besieged by suitors on Ithaca, and then show us Odysseus washed up on the shores of King Alcinous’ island. Brought in as a nameless guest, Odysseus begins to cry as a bard sings of the Trojan War. Here, the tale begins in his voice, as he relates the dangers and tragedies Poseidon has subjected him to. Here is Odysseus describing the events in the cave of the Cyclops. “One of my crew drew his sword and stepped forward, intending to plunge the blade through the Cyclops’ skin and kill him as he slept. I had to restrain him. The Cyclops was our only means of escape.” In this version the plan for blinding Polyphemus is presented as more of a group effort. But then, at the escape, “I had to gloat. ‘Polyphemus! It was not Nobody who blinded you! It was somebody! It was Odysseus! A ram among sheep! King of rocky Ithaca! Remember my name for the rest of your life of stumbling darkness!'”

With both books we have the revenge of Poseidon which drags out Odysseus’ return for ten weary years. Ten years is a long time to repent of gloating and bragging! When Odysseus does finally reach Ithaca, his self-control is astonishing, for he does not run immediately to the wife he has been yearning for all these years. No, he has to lay his plans for ridding his palace of the destructive suitors and reclaiming his rights as king. In both versions, the destruction of the suitors is complete and merciless, meted out after careful, self-controlled planning. You may have qualms about this aspect of the story, but it is true to the original. And it does show an interior locus of control! Both adaptations are excellent, although the Lupton/Morden retelling is shorter. They are both great for older (10 or 11 and up) independent readers or for sharing aloud with them. As with the Iliad retellings, these may be picture books but they are not for young children. Not only is the violence quite gruesome, but the questions about responsibility and self-control are much more appropriate to tweens. For them, both books are highly recommended.

Are You Raising an Outy?

admin — Sun, 29 May 2011 00:00:00 +0000

What does internal vs. external locus of control have to do with coaching courage in my child?

Firstly, the cool thing about locus of control is that it is one of those few areas where parenting really matters! It seems that locus of control is not a genetically-driven trait, but more a nurtured and learned personality adaptation. The goal in parenting is for children to develop an increasingly internal locus of control over time, combined with a flexibility to move along the continuum depending on life circumstances.

Given that a child’s sense of diminished control over his/her environment is associated with psychological vulnerability to anxiety in particular, it is imperative that parents coach their kids to really listen to their own inner thoughts, values, feelings, and body. The more children believe that they are active agents in the successes or failures of their lives—the more likely they are to take responsibility for their actions and develop the six types of courage.

Secondly, the natural evolution for a child is to move from more of an external locus of control (relying on his/her parents, peers, luck, or other external circumstances to guide decision-making and behavior) to an internal locus of control (whereby a child is more self-motivated, self-disciplined, and believes his/her behavior is guided by personal decisions and/or efforts). It is our role as our child’s parent to coach them to take increasing responsibility in their lives. We do our children a grave disservice if we continually protect them from the consequences of their own behavior, for example.

We’re all likely to want to rescue our child at some point during their development: deliver a forgotten instrument to school, pick up their smelly laundry off their bedroom floor, or sell their raffle tickets for the baseball team fundraiser. But, here’s the thing: if we continue to be our child’s rescuer, he/she will be less prepared or emotionally, physically, morally, spiritually, socially or intellectually equipped to handle the challenges on the path ahead.

No matter how uncomfortable it is to seem like a bad parent for not delivering the instrument, how nauseating the discarded dirty sock smell, or how much your kid will not look good to his/her coach and peers for only selling one raffle ticket. Being willing to endure your child’s tantrum, the disapproval of others, and (OMG, if you’re like me this one really smarts) not looking good as a parent, leads to the long-term gain of your child’s increasing independence, confidence, and in psychology-speak self-efficacy.

Trust me, you want your child to get the lesson the first time! Otherwise, you can be assured you’ll be learning it again and again and again until your child achieves the kind of independence and self-efficacy needed to grow up. My son only had to lock himself out of the house once to remember his keys for the next two years. My daughter only had to forget her instrument once for her to remember that violin for the rest of the year. Every time I overfunction and pick up the stinky socks at the same time I’m telling my son to do so, I’m turning him into an outy! Surprisingly, he doesn’t seem so motivated to pick them up himself because the invisible laundry fairy continues to magically do it for him?!

The startling news is that today’s college student favors an external locus of control. In other words, we may be dropping the ball as parents in preparing our kids to be powerful agents in their future success. Children and college students surveyed between 1960-2002 show that young Americans (by an astounding 80% increase) are more likely now than in previous generations to believe that the circumstances of their lives are controlled by outside forces instead of the result of their own efforts. Yikes!

This research could also be indicative of a significant cultural shift (since 1960) in favor of an external locus of control. Kids are developing more of an external locus of control, not as healthy development would have it, by becoming increasingly dependent on their parents and/or influenced by outside others, forces, or trends. What does that mean about our children? According to the meta-analysis conducted by Twenge, Zhang, & Im (2004):

The results are consistent with an alienation model positing increases in cynicism, individualism, and the self-serving bias. The implications are almost uniformly negative, as externality is correlated with poor school achievement, helplessness, ineffective stress management, decreased self-control, and depression.

Read my previous post Are You an Inny or an Outy? to learn more about internal vs. external locus of control. My next post, next Sunday, “The Cheese Stands Alone” will give an example of how humbling and hard it can be to raise an inny!

What are you doing to boost your own or your child’s internal locus of control?

Sources:

Chorpita, B. & Barlow, D. (1998). The development of anxiety: The role of control in the early environment. Psychological Bulletin, 124, (1), 3-21.

Rotter, J.B. (1966). Generalized expectancies of internal versus external control of reinforcements. Psychological Monographs, 80, (whole no. 609).

Twenge, J., Zhang, L., & Im, C. (2004). Itʼs beyond my control: a cross-temporal meta-analysis of increasing externality in locus of control, 1960-2002. Personality and Social Psychology Review, 8, (3), 308-319. Retrieved from http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/15454351

Weems, C. & Silverman, W. (2006). An integrative model of control: Implications for understanding emotion regulation and dysregulation in childhood anxiety. Journal of Affective Disorders, 91, (2), 113-124.

Courage Book Review – the Black Ships

admin — Mon, 23 May 2011 00:00:00 +0000

Yesterday Lisa talked about internal vs. external locus of control. Today I want to talk about extreme-external locus of control! I want to talk about Helen of the Fair Cheeks and the death of Achilles. Yes, the Trojan War.

Offering the Trojan War (and its backstories) to kids 11 years old and up is a fascinating and dramatic way to explore the concept of personal responsibility. The gods are the ultimate puppeteers here: Thetis dips Achilles into the River Styx to make him invulnerable; Aphrodite sends Paris to go fall in love with (already married) Helen; Apollo sends disease to the Greeks to punish Agamemnon for kidnapping Chriseis; Athena, Zeus, Hera — these gods can’t mind their own business for a moment! They send dreams, they appear in disguise as trusted friends giving counsel, they produce obscuring clouds of mist at crucial moments of battle. The mortals themselves accept this meddling as natural, if often inconvenient – like weather.

What is so fascinating about all this, aside from the great story-telling of it, is that consciousness itself may have been quite different at the time of these events. People may not have recognized that their thoughts, emotions and feelings arose within themselves. (For a review of the difference between emotions and feelings, please revisit “What is Emotional Courage.”) Ascribing insight, anger, jealousy or passionate love to an external force may have been all the Ancients could do. And yet we see glimmers of personal responsibility and internal locus of control shining through chinks in the armor. Behold the 11 year old child!

Rosemary Sutcliff’s Black Ships Before Troy: The Story of ‘The Iliad’ is amazing. The epic is rendered into dramatic and lyrical prose that retains much of the flavor and imagery of the poetry. “Through it all, Diomedes of the Loud War Cry, with his battle drunkenness upon him, went raging up and down the plain, leaving dead men behind him as a flooded river leaves the torn-off limbs of trees.” “Hector shook his head, and the high horsehair crest of his helmet tossed sideways on the wind along the battlements… He reached out to take his little son in his arms, but the babe shrank back, scared by the great bronze helmet.” “They thronged about Penthesilea, who shone among her maidens like the moon among stars, tossing up spears in greeting, throwing flowers beneath her horse’s hooves, kissing her feet.”

Another version, The Iliad, retold by Ian Strachan, lacks the lyricism of Sutcliff’s. The compression of events falls somewhat flat as a result. In this version, Odysseus conceives of the wooden horse, it is built and the ships depart in just three sentences. Sutcliff’s description of this same pivotal episode is rich with detail. However, Strachan’s version adds explanatory information to help modern readers visualize scenes that may simply be too unfamiliar, such as this description of the Greek ships: “Built on huge oak keels, at the waterline each ship had a massive bronze barb jutting from its bows, for ramming and sinking enemy warships. Eyes were painted high on their prows, intended to ward off evil spirits and help the boats find their way safely to their destinations.”

Between these two versions there are subtler differences, which speak to the external/internal locus of control discussion. Here is Sutcliff on the argument between Achilles and Agamemnon: “Then Achilles, who had grown to care for Briseis, would have drawn his sword to fight for her. But gray-eyed Athene, who was for the Greeks because Aphrodite was for Paris and the Trojans, put it into his mind that no man might fight the High King.” That is external locus of control. This is Strachan on the same event: “Achilles was so furious his hand strayed toward the silver hilt of his sword. Should he kill Agamemnon now or curb his anger?” That is internal locus of control. Then we have the origin of the wooden horse. Here is Sutcliff: “Then Athene planted in Odysseus’ mind the seed of an idea: one of the cunning ideas for which he was famous. And he stood up and unfolded it to the listening Greeks.” External. Here is Strachan: “Finally, Odysseus came up with an idea that he believed might get the Greeks inside Troy’s unyielding walls.” Internal. Sutcliff’s retelling thus strikes closer to the original external locus of control, while Strachan’s offers a more modern internal locus of control. (FYI, the highlights are all added for clarity.)

In my opinion, Strachan is trying to have his cake and eat it too. He wants to give Achilles and Odysseus credit for positive actions (controlling anger, concocting a genius plan) while still pinning the blame for the whole mess on the gods. Achilles’ grief needs the consolation of his mother, sea goddess Thetis, and the gods are still to blame when things go against the mortals. Zeus gets angry, Poseidon butts in, Iris sends messages, Apollo shows up — You can’t have it both ways! (Have you ever said that to an 11-year old? I have!) Either the gods are in control of us or they aren’t. Share both books with your kids if you can, but if you can use only one, use the Sutcliff book. Ask your child whether she is as willing to take blame as credit. Talk about the meddling of the gods. You might be surprised by where the conversation takes you.

Are You an Inny or an Outy?

admin — Sun, 22 May 2011 00:00:00 +0000

Do you believe that you control your fate or that outside circumstances beyond your control do? In 1966, psychologist Julian Rotter was busy trying to answer this question and bridge traditional psychoanalytic thought and behaviorism (the zeitgeist at the time) into what is now termed social learning theory. One aspect of Rotter’s social learning theory, that is particularly relevant to the way we can parent a child to develop courage, is called Locus of Control of Reinforcement. Locus of control is related to individual difference in the way we generalize our expectancies (i.e. what we think will happen to us in the future). If you want to help your child develop courage, teaching him/her to develop an internal locus of control is important.

Similar to many aspects of parenting, shaping locus of control is not an exact science. Here are a few ways to help your child develop an internal locus of control:

Offer your child opportunities for mastery and success. Look through school extracurricular courses to see what is of interest, pick one per term to try and complete. Take the time to teach the kinds of skills you hope they will develop before leaving home, e.g. washing their own laundry, loading/unloading the dishwasher, or any of the 5-Minute Courage Workouts and Challenges that we offer.
Ask your child to become responsible for developmentally-appropriate chores and daily tasks. The rule of thumb here is: show your child how to do the task, ask them if they have any questions, remind them they can ask for help if they need it, and then back away and trust in their abilities to complete the chore/task all on their own. Notice when they do it without reminding and appreciate they job they’ve done!
Encourage your child to become increasingly independent. Plant the seeds for specific target dates or future milestones of independence by saying things like “Imagine how proud you will feel when you are in Grade 5 and can walk to school on your own!” “Imagine what you will feel, the personal satisfaction,when you first put on your black belt after completing all your training next year!”
Show and trust them to do the right thing. Mentoring with respect for your child will help nurture the same respect for you from your child. It is hard to expect them to do a task without support the first time. Talk about hard choices you’ve had to make in your life and how you worked through the pros and cons, risks and benefits. Highlight people, stories, moments that you believe required moral courage. Modeling this kind of creative problem-solving will help them develop their own inner compass when it comes time to making their own tough decisions.
Help them identify the intrinsic vs. extrinsic rewards in all they do. Instead of slathering them with empty praise, bribes, or otherwise external rewards, be specific by asking “What did you learn about yourself when you did that?” “What do you think about your report card? What are you most proud of? How do you think you accomplished that? What would you like to improve on for next quarter?” “How does it feel now that you made the team after so much practicing?” Let the natural fruits of their efforts be enough sometimes. Then, find special ways to celebrate and honor your own and your child’s accomplishments. It could be a chore-free night, a special dinner or movie night together, calling a relative to tell them the good news, or buying something special to mark the occasion. By periodically mixing up the reward system, kids are more likely to keep looking inside instead of outside for affirmation and/or approval.
Model for them self-discipline, self-motivation, and how to take responsibility for their own fate. When we share stories from our lives with our children, with ourselves as the hero/heroine instead of the victim, our children learn from us to expect that they, too, are responsible for the outcome of their lives.

On the other hand, when we continually rescue our children from completing age-appropriate tasks they are fully capable of doing, limit their opportunities to prove their worth and capability, push too hard in areas they are ill-equipped or disinterested in succeeding, or pull them back from accomplishing something due to our own fear, bias, or agenda—our children develop an external locus of control. They learn to expect others to save them from the burden of responsibility for their life.

Internals (or as I call them, “innies”) learn to see a causal relationship between their behavior and rewards, whereas externals (or “outies”) miss the point altogether and attribute both their successes and failures to forces outside themselves.

Let’s review:

At the internal locus of control end of the continuum, you have individuals who believe they can control the events of their lives through their decisions and efforts. The more the internal locus of control, higher the degree of internal self-control, self-motivation, perceived influence on others and our environment, and the more intellectually curious and active we are in our own learning. Prematurely developing an internal locus of control though, without first having opportunities to be dependent, to develop secure attachment relationships, and be actively supported in to become independent, can burden a young child and lead to egocentrism, alienation, or extreme competitiveness.

The more we believe that outside forces like God, the environment, powerful others, or chance rule our lives, the more externally we place our locus of control. Extreme external locus of control appears to be correlated with decreased levels of academic, social, and occupational success and increased levels of mood disorders, drug/alcohol use, and voter apathy (Twenge, Zhang, & Im, 2004). That said, if the culture you live in embraces an external locus of control, it may be an adaptive response to develop this lens on the world. The concern is if through this lens you or your child sees a world where your actions make no difference, where you feel alienated or powerless, and/or you want to look away instead of forward with hope for the future.

Rotter cautioned broad applications of this particular construct in personality theory. He understood that the interaction between the human being and his/her environment is complex and his/her responses fall on a continuum instead of one particular discrete style. It may be, for example, a healthy response to fear and life challenge to rely on the spiritual courage associated with having a faith-based practice or belief system. On the other hand, believing in yourself, using powerful visualization techniques and positive affirmations and having the physical courage to dig deep and finish that fitness training program, may be exactly kind of internal locus of control that is needed.

To find out if you are an ‘inny’ or an ‘outy’, you can take an abbreviated version of Rotter’s 23-item internal vs. external locus of control assessment by clicking here.

Source:

Rotter, J.B. (1966). Generalized expectancies of internal versus external control of reinforcements.
Psychological Monographs, 80, (whole no. 609).

Twenge, J., Zhang, L., & Im, C. (2004). Itʼs beyond my control: a cross-temporal meta-analysis of
increasing externality in locus of control, 1960-2002. Personality and Social Psychology Review, 8,
(3), 308-319. Retrieved from http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/15454351