i have childhood memories that go back all the way when i was 3. my mom will testify that this is true. i don't recall a whole lot, but i remember my emotions very clearly. there was this game that my father liked to play with me: we lived on the 12th floor, he would place me at the edge of the low wall along the common corridor and catch me "just in time" just as I was about to topple over. it was scary and i had recurring nightmares about falling over. however, whenever he played this game, i would laugh out of excitement. i'm sure this was enough reason for the social service to step in and send me to foster care - but that was in the early seventies. when we were playing this game, i got the chance to look at the people from 12 floors up, and i remember wondering to myself why would a seemingly tall adult appear like an ant from the 12-floors vantage point. i also remember telling myself that if there were two of me, one on the 12th floor and one below, then i would also observe that the "me" at the bottom of the 12 floors would be very small. i remember mulling over this idea for a long time. i also remember scheming up a plan to perform an experiment. we took the elevator up and down our apartment but my sister and i would play at the staircase all the time. i must have understood depth perception. i understood that the stairs take you one floor up and one floor down. i remember reasoning to myself that if the stairs could take me up and down, one step at a time, and looking at the stairwell, it seemed that the stairs went all the way down - i could go to the ground level on my own one step at a time, without taking the elevator - which was a "black box" and i could not reach to touch the buttons. i hatched a plan - to prove that the very same person that was originally 12 floors up was the exact same person 12 floors down below but only looked ant-like because that person was "far away". but what excited me about the plan was not so much depth perception, i was more intrigued by the curiosity that the stairs that seemed to go forever could actually take me down to the ground level. in my memory, i had observed people moving up the stairs a lot. and finally one day, while playing along the corridor, i took the plunge. i took one step at a time and i eventually found myself on the ground level. i was delirious! i remember jumping up and down. i remember seeing the same person that i saw when i was peering through a peep-hole like vent in the low corridor wall 12 floors up. that person was wearing a black scarf in her ponytail. i remember that black scarf because we had a similar scarf in our home. the success of this experiment was my favorite childhood memory. my mom remember this incident. what i don't remember was the panic that ensued after i "disappeared", and how i caused my grandmother (my primary caregiver) to burst into tears thinking that i had been kidnapped/abducted. my mom told me it happened when i was 3 and she remember i was really happy to have made it downstairs.
because i can remember some childhood incidents clearly, i sometimes feel that i can relate to how christian is feeling. whenever he throws a temper tantrum, there were flashbacks in my mind. i remember feeling this rage that i could not control. the emotions were too complex to understand; and even when i was angry and i wanted to stop crying, i couldn't. the emotions were a monstrosity to control. and i would cry about my failure to control them too. but because of these flashbacks, i sometimes feel i have to be careful too - that christian's emotions do not necessarily mirror mine at that age. we are, after all, two separate beings.
i've mentioned my friend
Elizabeth here before. she runs this company called
Embodied Movement which focuses on dance therapy. I don't have a good grasp of what dance therapy is and won't attempt to describe it here. Elizabeth wrote to me months ago about a possible dance therapy workshop here in singapore (she lives in rotterdam, the netherlands). my thought then was to support Elizabeth's endeavor and so i signed up without any hesitation. it was a session for little toddlers and their parent(s). and it happened this past Saturday at the
Substation.
Christian and I headed out to a part of town that we hardly visit - it turned out to be a sunny Saturday morning and we sang to
Yo Gabba Gabba! in the car. He seemed really happy to have all of my attention - on a typical weekend, I watch Alex all the time. It was a refreshing change to me too - I realized that I really miss these simple moments with Christian. But upon reaching the dance hall in Substation, Christian hesitated. He didn't want to take off his shoes, and didn't want to go in. He kept pleading and pushing me toward the door to leave. I instantly felt bad -- I was the one who made the choice to do this dance class with him, yet when he wanted to leave, he couldn't. Christian is always shy with strangers. He takes a long time to warm up. I wanted to encourage him to try different activities with people around him. But on that Saturday morning, he would have none of it. I stood my ground and tried to encourage him to participate. He wouldn't. He wanted to leave. He went to grab his little
Miffy backpack and was adamant about leaving. I could tell it was the shyness.
I was a shy kid myself. It was painful to even say "hi" to strangers. My parents teased me and said they didn't like my reserved behavior. I remember not understanding what I was to do. And I remember very clearly that my parents would prep me before meeting their friends, it didn't encourage me to open up, i clammed up all the time, and the pep talk just added tons of stress way before meeting those strangers.
shyness is not a bad trait. but i don't want it to be a social handicap.
I understood Christian's shyness and his insistence on leaving the class. The guilt was starting to seep in. with Christian's protests and my coaxing, it was close to a battle of wills. But way before the class, I had anticipated Christian's behavior. I had convinced myself that the lesson I want Christian to have was that it was okay to be shy, that's who he is and what he feels, and that it will be okay to have these feelings and still be able mingle with people - either playing together or to play alongside. So I chose to stay. I chose to encourage Christian to dance just with me and that it was okay not to dance with the rest. He seemed pretty calm throughout the entire session but needed to have his bag with him all the time.
The session lasted for maybe an hour. Toward the last 10 minutes, Christian warmed up. He played with the scarfs in the class. He finally was having some fun. And I was really encouraged. Elizabeth had been fantastic - she was not pushy with Christian at all and just let us be. These are the pictures from the class. Elizabeth's husband Jeroen took these pictures of Christian and me. The pictures were very sweet. We were obviously oblivious to the rest of the class. My focus was entirely on Christian. I tried very hard not to be too self-conscious about Christian's protests. I know kids are sensitive. I didn't want to shame Christian into any action ("look, everyone is looking at you. you should dance.") and I know that if I were embarassed, Christian would pick that emotion up too.
I had thought the word "therapy" in this dance therapy session made it sound too clinical. but upon reflection, maybe it was therapy after all...it taught me a lesson or two on how to interact with a shy little person, who's not so different from me. i still have thoughts of Christian's shyness in my mind and i still have not ruled out the probability of calling a child psychologist to assess the situation. but for now, little baby dance steps will suffice.
{all pictures courtesy of Embodied Movement}
Christian is 2 years and 8 months old.Alexandra is 7 months old.
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