The sound of breaking glass had the effect it always does: almost involuntarily you turn to look. At a glance it was clear from the posture of his parents that somehow a highchair-bound toddler had knocked a glass to the floor.
And then it happened: the father popped the little boy square in the face, a forceful jab with rigid fingers that would have registered as an assault even on an adult. The boy began to wail, not injured but truly hurt.
My friends and I were seated two tables away, and those of us who caught sight of the despicable act of so-called parental discipline could only glare. I waited to see if the father would strike his son for crying, too, but he did not. Before too long the child had calmed, and, as powerless children do with their abusive parents, they continue on as before, because this is their normal.
That word, abusive, should not be used lightly, and I have little doubt that many hearing it applied to the above-described circumstance will disagree with my characterization. How will children learn, after all? They need to be taught how to behave.
I am one of those who believe striking a child—even a garden-variety spanking—is never an acceptable option. I am uncomfortable with aggression of any sort and believe exerting physical force is a viable response only as a last resort when confronted with violence, allowing for certain exceptions, like law enforcement and boxing. A toddler’s breaking a glass doesn’t begin to fit the bill. And there is no circumstance, none, in which I regard striking a defenseless child in the face anything but child abuse.
For better or for worse, the law is more ambiguous on the subject. According to Child Protective Services (CPS), “the major system of intervention of child abuse and neglect in California,” state law defines child abuse as any of the following:
- A child is physically injured by other than accidental means.
- A child is subjected to willful cruelty or unjustifiable punishment.
- A child is abused or exploited sexually.
- A child is neglected by a parent or caretaker who fails to provide adequate food, clothing, shelter, medical care or supervision.
To me, striking a 10-month-old in the face, even without a resulting injury, qualifies as “unjustifiable punishment” for anything. But I don’t get to interpret and apply the law. Were I charged with that responsibility, perhaps I would be a bit more circumspect. It is, after all, crossing into tricky territory when we’re talking about intervening between parent and child. We all accept that parents have—must have, even—some dominion over their children, particularly when those children are very young. What business is it of mine to tell you how you should and shouldn’t raise your child?
Nonetheless, as a society we agree that children must be protected—even from their parents, when necessary. Children—young children especially—need special protections because they are generally more fragile and live in a perpetual state of dependence. That’s what is particularly heinous about parental child abuse. Parents are the caretakers, the very people that not only society but also nature charges with defending their offspring. Acts of aggression against children violate that primal responsibility.
On a practical level, we all wish for a less violent world—and you don’t breed nonviolence with aggression. Want to grow an aggressive adult? Aggressing toward him as a child is a pretty good start. It’s also a pretty good way to breed insecurity and a lack of confidence. If blows rain down on you from your nearest and dearest, no one should be surprised when your default position is to find externality threatening.
But, rightly or wrongly, neither CPS nor law enforcement will intervene based on the single act I witnessed. I suppose that, in pragmatic terms, it must be this way. Eliminating such wrongheaded approaches to disciplining children may have to be confined to changing public perception, for redefining behavior that is considered acceptable. Perhaps the only way to alter this father’s behavior—at least in public—is to progress our society to the point that even a parent who believes a stiff jab in the face is just discipline would be too ashamed to let anyone see him do it.
So I was left to glare at the man, watching to see if the abuse continued to the point at which some sort of intervention might have been viable, but also hoping I might catch his eye. He never looked my way, but eventually the mother did. What she thought of my obvious disdain for the assault against her son—whether she and her husband were of like mind on the subject of disciplining their little one, or whether she feels like I do but has yet to find the courage to stand up for her feelings and her son’s well-being—I will never know.
Soon enough the boy seemed to have forgotten what had caused him such great upset, and he was feeding his father with a fork that he was just learning to use properly. To all outward appearances the boy was none the worse for wear. But the human psyche is a mysterious and complicated phenomenon. Often it is devilishly hard (if not impossible) to pin down just what cause yielded just what effect in us, especially when the causes were experienced way back in our earliest developmental phases.
But we all have fears and insecurities and neuroses, and they all came from somewhere. It’s not groundbreaking psychological insight to assert that getting hit in the face by your father isn’t going to help you out.