How much smarter would it have been if, instead of just standing there by the front door in frustration, I had looked at everyone and said, “We got this! So . . . Luka, you check the bathrooms. Philip, you check the living room and kitchen. Ari and I will check the backyard and the garage. Matea, you check the bedrooms. Let’s go!” (Blasting some fun music while we all ran around the house would have been a nice added touch because, life tip: a good soundtrack can make any annoying or boring activity more fun.) I could have used that sweatshirt situation as an opportunity to show compassion and teach my children that we are a team and work together to help one another out. We all mess up, we misplace stuff sometimes, and when something is important to one of us, it’s important to all of us. Instead, Matea’s family just stood around, focused only on our individual wants and needs in that moment.
* * *
• • •
WHETHER YOU’RE FIVE (the age of my youngest) or forty (the age of yours truly), putting yourself in other people’s shoes is difficult and tedious work. For Ari, it’s hard because his five-year-old brain hasn’t had much practice at this imaginative leap. For me? I can get lazy. It’s much simpler to believe that I’m sage, omniscient, and always right, and it’s so easy to be seduced by the feeling that anyone who disagrees with me or reacts to a situation differently than I would is stupid or misinformed. Choosing to interrogate my perspective in any way and really consider the experiences of the people around me not only threatens my ego—it’s also inconveniently time consuming.
Yet I believe empathy is the most important skill human beings can learn, and it’s one I am determined to cultivate in my kids and myself. Empathy is the mother of kindness and patience. When I’m able to truly understand where another person is coming from, I can easily forgive them and figure out what might help or comfort them. Empathy is a magical bucket that always seems to have some grace left in it—even when you and your husband have both had insanely stressful days at work and are exhausted, and all he can think to do is complain about some stupid thing like not having any counter space in the bathroom because it’s completely overtaken by your crap, and all you want to do is scream: “I LOOK LIKE A HUNGOVER MUG SHOT VERSION OF MYSELF WITHOUT ALL THIS CRAP, AND YES, I’M A SUCKER FOR PRODUCTS THAT PROMISE TO MAKE ME LOOK RESTED AND DEWY. AND NO, THEY NEVER WORK, AND NO, I DON’T EVEN FULLY UNDERSTAND THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN GREASY AND DEWY, BUT NOW THAT I’VE OVERPAID FOR THEM, WE’RE GONNA RIDE THIS ROCKET ALL THE WAY INTO THE GROUND!” And that’s just one completely hypothetical example. Empathy throws a little grace your way, and you’re able to understand how annoying it might be to have nowhere to put down the shaving razor when he’s nicked himself and needs to deal with the bloody aftermath. So you take a deep breath and march yourself to the Container Store to start getting organized. (Or, more realistically, you artfully push all your crap over to your side of the sink and pretend it will actually stay there this time.)
If my kids want to build strong friendships, what’s the most important thing I can teach them? Empathy. Because people of all ages like feeling understood and heard. If they want to be powerful CEOs? Empathy again. Because the best leaders connect with people and make them feel seen. If they want to make art, write books, or direct movies? You got it—empathy. Because you can’t create convincingly or connect with audiences if you can’t understand what motivates people. And if they want to be successful physicists? Well, they’re just going to have to go to some kind of a summer physics camp for that, because this mama doesn’t speak physics.
The more creative and participatory we make life lessons, the more they’ll sink in and stick with us and our kids. Of course, actively going through a lesson is a lot more work than just lecturing, which you can add to the never-ending list of reasons I’m perpetually exhausted, a list that is now as lengthy as one of those three-mile-long CVS receipts.
There’s an exercise I started having my older kids do when they argue that’s been really helpful in my quest to raise empathetic future members of society. When they disagree, I make them switch roles and argue the other person’s perspective (and not sarcastically). Luka has to take Matea’s side and try to convince her that she’s right while Matea takes on Luka’s perspective and tries to sell him on his convictions.
One afternoon we were driving home from school and Luka and Matea were going at it over the stereo again. Matea’s an Adele and Taylor Swift fan while Luka’s tastes tend more toward harder-rock bands and rap.
“Nope, nope, nope,” I called back over their bickering. “Switch roles.”
“But, Mom!” my kids groaned.
“Either you two switch roles or I’m practicing karaoke.”
“Ugh, fine!” They rolled their eyes.
Luka started by arguing Matea’s views. “I think that it’s stressful to listen to music where it sounds like everyone’s angry and shouting.”
“Well, sometimes when you’re frustrated, it feels really good to hear someone else let it all out,” Matea replied.
“I can understand how it might be comforting to listen to someone sing about mean girls when you’re dealing with them at school. Plus your voice is high-pitched, so it’s easier for you to sing along to other high-pitched, girly voices,” Luka countered.
“Maybe they use curse words in the songs you listen to because . . . they just don’t know that many words?” Matea said with a half smile. Luka snorted. And then they both ended up laughing.
It’s amazing what happens when they are forced to argue a point they might disagree with. Suddenly they have access to where the other person might be coming from and why they think the way they do. Not only is it a wonderful way to build and flex their empathy muscles, but it often leaves both kids cracking up at the absurdity of the whole argument in the first place.
Once I noticed how well this role reversal worked for my kids, I decided to try it with Philip when we have silly marital arguments, and it’s become our new favorite way to solve disagreements. No one leaves the conflict feeling pissed off or unheard, it helps us understand each other better, and, most of the time, the discussion ends with laughter instead of anger.
When Luka was in elementary school, empathy often seemed to come naturally to him. He came home one day from second grade and asked me if I could take him to the store to buy a bracelet for a girl at school.
“Luka! That’s so sweet! Do you have a little crush on her?”
“No. I don’t even really know her. It’s just that some kids were picking on her and one kid grabbed her arm and her bracelet fell off and broke. She needs a new bracelet as soon as possible. She didn’t ask for it, but I just know it would help her feel better.”
The following day, Luka gave the girl a cute little bracelet with green plastic beads that he’d picked out himself. He didn’t think of it as a big deal. He just thought it was the right thing to do. And I couldn’t have been prouder of him, especially since he wasn’t always so in tune with how his actions might be perceived.