Category: Audio Blog

Audio files

  • The Desperation of Lectures

    The Desperation of Lectures

    Why do lectures stop working on kids? Dr. Ray explains why parents slide into long, repeated lectures, what teenagers told him bothers them most, and why shorter ones are more likely to be absorbed.

    “Lectures. They didn’t like lectures.”

    My second book was titled “Back to the Family.” I did it in conjunction with Akron Children’s Hospital. A friend of mine, who was vice president of marketing at the hospital, orchestrated it. He had an idea that he was going to ask the national state teachers of the year in all 50 states, “Can you describe some very strong families that you have come across in your years of teaching?” Obviously, to be a state teacher of the year you have to love the profession and be pretty much involved in it. So he figured they were pretty good identifiers of solid families, and it turned out very much so.

    The book more or less taps into their ideas regarding discipline, communication, religion, marriage. It was a broad-range look at parenting. Wherever possible, we interviewed the kids, the older ones, maybe 13, 14 on up, and some were pretty insightful. We asked them, under the communication chapter I think it was, “What do your parents do that most bothers you, that most frustrates you?” Keep in mind, these were not families that were pathological by any stretch. We didn’t hear, “Oh, I just hate when the cops come here before breakfast. Oh, my mom, she hurt her arm so she can’t really throw plates at my dad like she used to. She has to throw with her left arm and sometimes she misses.”

    You know what we heard? It’s going to come as no surprise to those of you who have teenagers. Lectures. They didn’t like lectures. Now, what is a lecture? We grownups have a very broad-based definition. To us, a lecture is anything that goes on for more than 24 minutes or is repetitive six to eight times. To the kids, a lecture is anything that is a compound sentence of more than seven words. One that begins with, “You know, young lady, when I was your age,” or “We’re going to have a little talk about this, young man.”

    The desperation behind the lecture

    Now, am I saying don’t lecture? Of course not. I’m a parent. It’s part of the passage of being a parent. But I think there’s a certain desperation to lectures that can creep in. We so much want the kids to understand why we do what we do, the reasoning behind our Neanderthal decisions, as they see it. So we explain. We want to get through, and maybe one explanation from one angle isn’t enough, so we try different angles. We recall our own childhood. We draw moral parallels. There’s nothing wrong with this, but it does follow the law of diminishing returns.

    There comes a point in that lecture, usually somewhere around the 90-second mark, where they’re blanking out. You can see it in their eyes. Lecture number 602: “When I was your age, I was grateful for what little I had.” Part of the reason we go on is that we think we’re not being understood. They’re not getting this. Or maybe it’s a unique piece of misconduct, something they don’t routinely do that comes from left field, so you figure, “We better talk about this.”

    And again, do not mishear me. I am not saying that as a parent you don’t talk about these things. What I’m saying is, especially if this is stuff that is recurrent. For example, he has a tendency to belittle his little sister. She’s 11, he’s 14, and he takes every chance to poke at her. Now you’ve talked about this with him, but you feel compelled every so often to launch into a lecture again on why this isn’t good. Lectures one and two, you made yourself heard. Lectures 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, it’s fading. He’s enduring it. I wouldn’t go so far as to say you’re wasting your breath, but it’s close. It’s very close. And I know this would be hard to believe, but I don’t really like wasted words. “But then, Dr. Ray, you shouldn’t have your radio show.” Okay, easy.

    “Keep it short and sweet”

    Lectures come out of the desperate need to make sure they absorb our moral lesson, our social lesson, what we’re trying to teach, so that when they’re 23 they don’t have to learn the hard way. I got that part. I truly do. But at some point, you keep it short and sweet and you make your case. “I’m not letting you go to the mall because you’re 13 years old and it’s unsupervised. And I know that your friend Snake is allowed to go along with his brother Conan, but I just don’t think it’s smart.” Now you’ve explained it.

    When they try to get you to prolong your lecture, it’s not that they want to hear more reasons so that they can finally say, “Well, Mother, thank you. Had you stopped explaining this to me at the 24-minute mark, I don’t think I really would have understood. But because you kept on for another 18 minutes after that, I saw the light. It’s so clear to me now.”

    Pick and choose your lectures. If you’ve been over the same subject many times, a good rule of thumb is to make each ensuing lecture a little shorter. Watch out for the cues that they’re glazing over. It’s a deer, and your headlights are on bright. You’re not getting there. In fact, this is one thing you might want to ponder: are you actually losing ground? The more lectures, probably the less likely the lectures are absorbed.

    For more on discipline that sticks, Dr. Ray’s book Discipline That Lasts a Lifetime is a good next read.

    Transcript of Dr. Ray’s audio blog, lightly edited for reading.

  • The Step by Step of Parental Estrangement

    The Step by Step of Parental Estrangement

    Why are so many adult children cutting off their parents? It is one of the most common problems Dr. Ray hears on the radio and in his office: faithful parents shut out by their grown kids, sometimes kept from their grandchildren. In this audio blog he lays out the chain of events he sees again and again.

    “Common, so common, so very common”

    If you’ve listened to this program at all, or ever sat in my office invisible, you would know that one of the far more common problems I deal with is parents who have been estranged, shut off, excommunicated by their young adults or even their middle-aged adults. Common, so common, so very common.

    A couple of weeks ago on this program I had an article that talked about this from a secular psychology perspective. It said a lot of young adults are writing off their parents. “Rightfully so!” was the tone of the article. Because, it said, what used to be looked at as just faulty parenting, struggling parenting, or just human parenting, we now realize is a lot more pathological. That was the tone of the article. It was awful.

    The chain of events behind estrangement

    These are generalizations, but here’s how it typically goes.

    1. The parents believe; the kids don’t. The older generation is more religious, and that’s borne out by the stats. Something like 40 percent of Gen Z, up to about age 27 or 28, are “nones.” Not sister nuns. They are nones of no religion. That has plateaued, and there are even little spurts of younger people embracing the faith, young men more so than young women. So the folks I hear from are by and large more religious, and their young adult children by and large are not.

    2. The kids aren’t content, and they look for someone to blame. To the degree that these young adults are not content in their lives, they make bad decisions. Especially in their thirties and forties, there is often a history of relationship problems, life problems, struggle. They’re not settled individuals. They’re unhappy, they’re discontent, they’re anxious. And of course they look for someone to blame, and the easiest target is their parents. “You did this to me.”

    3. Discontent leads to therapy. The percentage of adults in America who have at least tried therapy is over 50 percent. So it stands to reason: the more discontent, the more likely you are to approach a therapist.

    4. The therapy focuses on the self. In general, therapists practice a very secular type of psychology: it is most important that the individual feel at peace in their existence. If anybody is rattling that peace, then we have to consider separation from those peace disturbers, which oftentimes are parents.

    So we start out with religious parents who raise the kids pretty much in religion. The kids shed religion and want no part of it. They’re shaped by the culture, and they look at their parents like throwbacks: I don’t like your religious views. I don’t like your morals. I don’t like your politics. I don’t like the way you look at life. And you screwed me up.

    They go to therapy, and the therapist, listening to how they describe their parents, says, “Wow, you need to put some distance between you and those folks. From what you’re describing, they sound toxic. Have you set boundaries? Maybe for your own mental well-being you need some distance from them.”

    That’s where individual therapy goes. It focuses on the self, whereas Christianity focuses on the other. So there you have it: a confirmation that I’m not the one who needs to look at myself and what I’ve done to my parents. My parents have done this to me, and the therapist says so. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve come across that chain of events.

    “Unprecedented in human history”

    It’s only slowly starting to become apparent. I noticed this years ago. Dennis Prager was talking once, before his accident, about how many calls he got from older parents who said: I have no relationship with my young adult or middle-aged kids. I can’t see my grandkids. They don’t want me in their lives. I’ve tried to reach out. I’ve tried to apologize for whatever, but they don’t want to hear it.

    I read a column by Dennis Prager about this, and I thought: finally, somebody in the secular world is noticing that this is happening. I believe it is unprecedented in human history, that the next generation, in such huge numbers, looks back on the generation that raised them and says, “Ew! You’re pathological!” An interesting, interesting generational dynamic.

    Facing this in your own family? Dr. Ray answers parents’ hardest questions about faith and grown children in Family Faith Under Fire: Practical Answers to Everyday Challenges.

    Transcript of Dr. Ray’s audio blog, lightly edited for reading.

  • Phrases that Make Kids Anxious & Parents Neurotic

    Phrases that Make Kids Anxious & Parents Neurotic

    Which everyday phrases make kids anxious, and are parents getting too neurotic about them? Dr. Ray reacts to an article in which a psychologist warns against seven common phrases, and tells you where he agrees and where he does not.

    “Psychologists warn”

    This is one of my problems with these articles, and they’re all over the place. This is one of the reasons why parents are so insecure and nervous, and dare I say sometimes neurotic, about raising children. The article says, “Psychologists warn.” There you are. Look out. Don’t do this. You ruin your kid. Are they saying, “Don’t scream at your kid”? Are they saying, “Don’t beat him”? Are they saying, “Don’t completely ignore him”? No, no, no, no, no. When we psychologists warn you about stuff, a lot of times it’s stuff you would normally do and that many people do in the normal course of parenthood. But then we’ve decided this ain’t good, because we’ve got letters after our name, you know.

    The article says psychologists warn about these seven “nice” phrases, and they have that in quotes, from parents and grandparents. Here is how you create anxiety in kids. So we warn you, and then we say what you might naturally do, or what people have always done, and then we tell you, “Don’t you realize the deleterious effects?”

    Now, who am I to critique an article? Well, I’m probably equal to the person who wrote it in experience anyway. It says psychologists say that the desire to protect our children and grandchildren is instinctual. Well, you don’t need psychologists to tell you that. God tells you that. Human history tells you that. Common sense tells you that. “It’s a good thing I told you that, isn’t it? That you could protect your children because that’s instinctual.” Oh, thanks.

    “It feels like good parenting”

    This is a woman named Dr. Amy Todey. I don’t know how to pronounce it. She’s a psychologist. Here she says, “When we caution a child, we rush to reassure them or gently nudge them away from fear or sadness, it feels like good parenting, it feels caring.” Okay, note the unspoken. It feels like it. Unspoken is, it’s not.

    Dr. Todey and other psychologists warn that these phrases we use to support kids can “unintentionally,” see, that’s a scary word, you don’t even know you’re doing it, make children think the world is more threatening than it is. This is why parents are so nervous and neurotic. It’s like, man, I’m messing my kid up and I don’t even know it. Now, I agree with that part. You don’t want a kid to think the world is more threatening than it is. And if you let them watch a lot of TV, they’re going to think that, and that’s going to do a lot more damage than these phrases.

    The article goes on: “As a result, they may engage in less developmentally appropriate risk taking and problem solving, which can make it harder to build their emotional resilience. They need to handle the things life throws their way.” I got that part. Yeah, our kids are a little wobbly emotionally because we so much hover over them and shield them from too many things. I used to call it, in one of my books, bulldozer parenting. That’s true. But here’s where I struggle with this: you’re not going to avoid all that just by not using these phrases. That’s just dumb.

    The seven phrases

    The psychologists say it’s best for parents and grandparents to steer clear of these seven “nice” phrases that can create anxiety in kids. They reveal which phrases to avoid and what to say instead, and they reveal the one phrase children need to hear more often. As far as I’m concerned, the one phrase they need to hear more often is “I love you.” But that’s okay. Let’s find out. Here’s the seven that create anxiety. It reminds me of that old bit by George Carlin, the seven things you’re not allowed to say on TV. Well, poor Carlin. He’s long since out of touch, because all those things are now said on TV relentlessly.

    Be careful. Can’t say that. Nope. Don’t say “be careful.” Don’t worry, everything will be fine. I know you’ll do well. I’m proud of you. And here’s the one I most disagree with: I just want you to be happy. Well, if that’s the goal, you’re going to miss out on a lot of things more important, like virtues and contentment. You’re my whole world. Don’t say that, you realize you’re making them anxious and neurotic. And be good.

    Now, one could say these are kind of fluff phrases. They don’t really mean a whole lot. “I know you’ll do well”: the kid will think, well, I don’t know if I’ll do well or not. You didn’t take the test for me. Or “I’m proud of you”: it implies you’ve got to achieve for me to be proud of you. I got the thinking behind all this. “You’re my whole world”: they’ll say that puts an enormous pressure on the kid, Atlas shrugged with the world on his shoulders. You’re none of that to your kid. I can see where some of these phrases would not be the most substantive things to say, but in terms of creating anxiety, how often do you have to say them?

    By the way, if I say “be good” when I’m dropping him off at grandma’s house, what if I’m implying you need to be good for grandma or else I’m going to do something about it? That could be my code phrase, right? But I know what they’re saying. They’re saying “be good” implies that I really don’t expect you to be good, or it implies that to get my approval you have to be good. Or worse, “good” is a value word, right? You say it this way: have acceptable behavior, make good choices.

    “I’m right here with you”

    All right, let me finish it up here. The one phrase that you should tell kids, really? “I’m right here with you.” Hmm. Well, I could see that with kids who are down and out, or feeling sad or unsure, threatened, bullied, whatever it is. Yeah, I got your back. I’m with you. That’s great. I like that one a lot. I’m not sure I’d say it to a four-year-old who’s melting down and kicking stuff. “I’m right here with you.” I wonder what they do about that one.

    She closes with this: “Kids need to feel grounded in connection and attunement.” Who talks like that? “This phrase tells them they’re not handling the moment alone and that their feelings make sense and are valid.” Well, my feeling that I want to punch my brother in the head, I don’t think makes a whole lot of sense, and I don’t think it’s valid. It’s not a good feeling. “Well, no, Dr. Ray, that’s not what they’re saying. They’re saying the anger makes sense.” Does it? Does anger make sense when it’s based upon a situation that really shouldn’t foster anger? My little sister just burped, so I’m angry at her. That anger doesn’t make sense there.

    So this is why I close. This is why so many parents are getting so neurotic about raising kids. This is a classic example of all the stuff we experts warn you against. And if you don’t listen to us, don’t blame me. If your kids are going to be on Springer, I tried to tell you. I’m done. And I know you folks will call in. You’ll do well, and I’ll be proud of you when you call in. You’re my whole show. So be careful and be good.

    If parenting advice like this leaves you doubting yourself, Dr. Ray talks about that in You’re a Better Parent Than You Think!

    Transcript of Dr. Ray’s audio blog, lightly edited for reading.

  • Look and Listen!

    Look and Listen!

    Why do people start their answers with “look” and “listen”? Dr. Ray talks about a communication habit he notices in interviewees and sometimes in parents, and wonders what is behind it.

    “Listen” and “Look”

    I have noticed that when people are asked a question, and this is particularly true of pundits, perhaps political figures, there is a communicative habit that’s ugly. I think it’s easily done even in normal conversation, and the implications of it are not good. What am I referring to? Let’s say you ask me a question and you say, “Ray, I want to get your opinion on my 17-year-old daughter.” And I start my answer with, “Listen.” Now that’s very commanding, isn’t it? That struck me, because I’ve heard an awful lot of interviewees begin their answer that way. Or a parallel word: “Look.” In other words, I am dictating to you to pay attention.

    I don’t know why this is so common. One of my explanations is that we tend, by osmosis, to pick up on speaking styles. The word “well” is used constantly to answer any question. I would say at least 80 percent of the time, when someone is being interviewed on radio or TV about a subject they have experience in, they’ll start out with “Well.” But “look” and “listen” are particularly pushy. In other words, “Look and listen.” They imply, “You need to pay attention to me.”

    I think it’s as though, if I don’t say “listen,” they’re not going to listen. Or, I don’t know what I want them to look at. Apparently, look at my reasoning. You could say “Think,” or “Pay attention,” or “Watch out.” All of which say, “I’m going to say something really important to you now, and you need to focus on it.”

    “Well, being a shrink”

    Now, some might say, “Kind of being a little picky here about language, aren’t you, Ray?” Well, being a shrink, what you’ve got to do is listen to language. That’s the coin of the realm in therapy or counseling. Trying to understand somebody, you’ve got to listen to the words they use. You’ve got to listen to how they use the words. You’ve got to, between the lines, try to figure out what they’re saying. You’ve got to connect this sentence to a sentence they said 12 minutes ago. You have to hyper-focus on the way they phrase things.

    It’s very hard for me. My wife sometimes will be watching something on TV, and she’ll look at me, because she’ll know I’m just getting ready to comment on this. She’ll say, “Ray,” and I go, “Yeah, okay, okay, okay.”

    There’s a certain emphatic pronunciation to both of those words. It’s not “please look” or “would you listen?” No, no, no, it’s “listen,” and I can’t help wondering what the motive is for using those words. Is it just a habit, just a way of talking? Is it to fill up a little bit of time until you formulate the thought you were going to say? Or is it something more? Is it stressing that my opinion needs to be taken into account here, because it’s very accurate, formidable, and something you should seriously consider? I don’t know. I just thought about that. I made a little note here in my book: comment on starting answers with “look” and “listen.”

    Sometimes parents do that. Lecturers, you notice that? Kid does something, and we want to try to straighten out their thinking on it. “Now listen to me.” We do that. “You look here, young man.” I guess those are kind of variety words, and you can use them in a bunch of contexts. But I’ve got to take a break here. So when I get back, I hope you’ll listen.

    Dr. Ray has plenty more on how we talk to each other in How to Get Along with Almost Everybody.

    Transcript of Dr. Ray’s audio blog, lightly edited for reading.

  • Understanding Does Not Equal Agreement

    Understanding Does Not Equal Agreement

    If my teen understands why I do what I do, will she agree? Dr. Ray says understanding does not equal agreement, and explains why that is such a frustration for parents.

    “She does understand. She doesn’t like it.”

    A parent will be in my office, say for example with a teen, and the parent will lament, “I wish I could just get her to understand why we do what we do. We’re not trying to be mean, we’re trying to raise her well. I just don’t think she understands. And if she understood, I think our parenting would be easier. I’d have more peace at the house.”

    At that point I might turn to the young lady or young man and say, “Would you explain in your own words, for the court, why your mother does what she does? Why your mother, for example, won’t let you have a smartphone yet?” And at that point the kid will take up the mantle, turn to Mom, and with articulation far superior to my own say, “I know that you believe I’m just trying to be difficult, and I realize you’re not trying to be difficult. I realize you want to do what is good for me, and this will help me a lot as I get older. I see the way some of my friends are being raised and it’s not good. Even though I want to do what they want to do and you’re stopping me, in the long run I’m probably going to appreciate it.” And she goes on and on, explaining her understanding of why her mother does what she does, probably more perfectly than the mother could.

    At that point, I keep smelling salts in my top-left drawer. I go to Mom and put them underneath her nose and arouse her after she’s fainted on the floor. And I ask Mom, “What do you think?” Mom says, “I don’t believe it. She seems to totally understand.” And I say, “You thought she was not being cooperative or battling you because she didn’t understand?” “Yes. I thought if she understood, she’d at least be more agreeable about this stuff.” “Well, do you think she understands now?” “Well, unless she was just mouthing the words, at least she seems to understand what I’ve been trying to tell her.” I said, “Well, Mom, you are absolutely right. She does understand. She doesn’t like it and she doesn’t agree with it. There’s where the problem is.”

    “Understanding does not equal agreement”

    This is kind of like the old philosophers who thought that if you had proper knowledge, you would have proper conduct. This is where I think Christianity corrected them. Proper knowledge does not necessarily lead to proper conduct, because self-interest is involved, or fallen human nature, as we Christians would call it. I can have all the knowledge in the world. I can know completely and totally why I shouldn’t smoke. I can recite a beautiful dissertation on all the problems of smoking and still smoke. “So, Dr. Ray, that’s different. That’s a physical addiction.” But I can recite all the reasons why I should forgive my mother-in-law and still not do it. Understanding does not equal agreement.

    I think that’s a frustration for parents so much. They’ll say, “How do I get him to listen? How do I get him to see?” Well, you get him to listen and see by telling them. But the next step is not that it’s going to be all fixed. Many people will say, “My mother-in-law, I just can’t get her to understand why I homeschool or why I’m raising my kids the way I am. She’s always got comments. How do I get her to understand?” I go, she probably can understand. She just doesn’t like it. That’s very different. I think it’s much easier to make somebody understand than it is to agree, if they don’t want to agree.

    I can understand all kinds of things. If somebody says to me, “I believe that a woman can choose whether to kill that baby in her womb or not,” I can understand their logic, however flawed I think it is. I can understand it. I don’t agree with it. I can understand why kids decide when they’re 19 years old to drift from the faith. I don’t accept it or like it. That seems to be a misconception that’s so prominent now: if I can get someone to understand me, they’ll be more open to agreeing with me. Maybe. But if in the end they don’t want to agree with you, no matter how much they understand why you think and do the way you do, then that’s not going to happen. That’s so hard for us to accept.

    Now, I can understand why you don’t accept it, but I don’t agree with why you don’t accept it. So I understand why the folks at EWTN and Ave Maria say, “I’ve got to take a break right now.” Okay, they’ve got to have breaks. They’ve got certain time cues they have to have. I got that part. I don’t agree with it! I said I don’t want to take a break. I’ve got more to say.

    For parents of teens who understand the rules and still push back, Dr. Ray’s book Standing Strong: Good Discipline Makes Great Teens is a good place to go next.

    Transcript of Dr. Ray’s audio blog, lightly edited for reading.