Children Should be Seen AND Heard

by nomotherearth

I was on the subway the other day. People were crowed in cheek by jowl, and as we pulled into the station, I heard this hissing noise behind me. It took me a few seconds to figure out that the person behind me wanted to get off, and was whispering “Excuse me”. Whispering. It took all I had not to go all Mama Rose on her and say “Sing out, Louise!”. I mean, did she want off the subway or not?  You’ve met these people: the prof whose lecture can’t be heard even though they’re miked, the business colleague who has important information for a meeting if you could only understand the mumbling. I’m guilty of it myself. I’m no loud-talker, but I can certainly make my voice be heard when I choose to. Whenever I’m unsure that what I have to say is important to the listener, though, my sentences trail off into nothingness.

Why do you think this is?  One of my favourite actor texts, “Freeing the Natural Voice” by Kristin Linklater , has this to say:

“Habits are a necessary part of being able to function: Many are helpful (how to tie a shoelace or use a knife and fork), and some are chosen consciously (what route to take to work every day; a shower in the morning or a bath at night), but most mental and emotional habits (“I never cry,” “I always think that…”  “I can’t sing”  “I always cry when they play the national anthem”) are formed unconsciously and by people other than oneself, in childhood. There is no choice attached to such conditioning. Behaviour that is suggested or demanded from outside develops the ability to respond to secondary impulses rather than primary ones.”

What this suggests to me is that we, the parents, the teachers, the neighbours are the ones creating these stymied voices. All children are born with voices free from constraint. When a child wants something, they ask for it loudly and clearly. No child whispers on the playground. There’s rarely such a thing as “quiet play” when two or more children get together. (Hey, if you come to my house, even the solitary play is pointedly, and loudly, narrated.)

This loss of natural childish abandon, I think, is due to phrases like: “Nice girls don’t shout”, “Keep it down, you’re being too loud”, or “That hurts my ears.” I do think that children need to be made aware of conventions, naturally – you don’t want to raise a social hooligan. But, I think we should be careful how we phrase ourselves, in order not to stifle our children’s natural voices. My mom was on the right track when she conditioned me that there was an “inside voice” and an “outside voice”, and appropriate places for each. However this can get confusing. Sometimes you need to use your outside voice when you’re inside, for instance.

Being an actor, I think that I want to take it one step further and teach my son that there’s an “on stage voice” and a “green room voice”. In the green room, you can talk at normal levels, but since you’re often in the general vicinity of the stage, you have to be aware that the noise level doesn’t get too crazy, or you could distract those that are on stage. On stage, you need make sure that you are heard by the half-deaf little old lady who is sitting in the back row. You need to do whatever it takes to be heard to get what you want. The best way to do this is not necessarily to speak louder, but to be emotionally connected to what you’re saying, and not doubt yourself because “nice people don’t”. You need to be heard.

Comments

[gabriella]

Just last night one of the mom's across the street was telling me how she and her son were outside and he was talking up a storm but so loudly, that she was embarrased the whole street could hear him. I was wondering why let your child not talk loudly, he's a child, he's outside.