I wish people who love each other would say to each other, when they fight, “Please – a little less love, and a little more common decency.”
-Kurt Vonnegut
When my stepmom asks my dad if the heat is still on, he responds by asking in a mocking and almost harsh tone, “What’s wrong? Are you cold?” She responds by saying she just wants to know if the heat is still on. Though because he interprets a passive aggressiveness in her tone – he assumes she’s implying that he doesn’t care about her comfort and has turned the heat off – he takes her comment as a criticism. Because neither of them can hear very well, voices are raised and there’s a tension to the entire exchange. Were it louder and funnier, this could be Frank and Estelle from Seinfeld – which, sadly and maybe accurately, would make me George.
Earlier in the week, my father and I got into a pretty heated argument. He had made a few comments about the dog and the dog smell. When he makes comments, he’s seldom subtle. They sound something like, “Jesus Christ, this dog stinks” or if it’s political/educational disagreement, “what are you, a moron?” Which is why his “what’s wrong? are you cold?” is never misunderstood as concern (the implied part is, “what’s wrong with you?”) Later that night, he told me he priced out having a company come to clean the carpets and upholstery. I was pissed that he was looking into such things without talking to me. I was pissed because it seemed like an extreme reaction. I was pissed because if scheduled (which it wasn’t), I’d have to take time off and lock the dog up while this was being done. But with hindsight, that’s not really what I was upset about (it was just the easy logical thing to be upset about). I was aggravated by the earlier criticism more than anything else. I’m sensitive to the fact that this isn’t my house. I’m sensitive to the fact that the dog is a pain in the ass. Yes, he slobbers and makes a mess. I’m self-conscious about this enough, and something about having it pointed out, especially by my father (in that all-too-familiar tone), pushed my buttons.
I’ve tried several times to write about this episode. Every time I tried, I got caught up in the details of the argument… which, to be honest, don’t matter much and aren’t terribly interesting. What I’ve really wanted to explore is the dynamics of the relationship (and many relationships) – the baggage that prevents us from having more productive conversations. Why do criticisms and comments from people close to us set us off the way they do? Why does a question about whether or not the heat is on spark an argument? Why does a comment about the dog feel like a personal attack?
I don’t consider myself to be particularly sensitive to criticism, but when my parents visit, I hear every small comment as a slight barb. It’s as if my ego grows extra-sensitive feelers. Perhaps, we know each other too well and have walked these paths too often. I’ve heard my stepmom tell guests that this isn’t how she would decorate (as though she’s embarrassed by my decor). Or I’ll hear her say that’s not where she would put that (referring to something in the kitchen that she had trouble finding). And then there were the comments about the dog… which had the effect of making me feel ashamed of him. As we argued, I found myself digging in to defend myself, to defend the dog, and beginning to unload the running tally of crap I’ve kept quiet about. The longer the relationship, the longer the ledger. We would all do well to avoid keeping a ledger.
At one point, I asked them to be a little more self-aware of how their criticisms might land – in this case making me feel unwelcome in the house. The response was something along the lines of we’re your parents, we’re allowed to criticize… That’s when the challenges of the underlying dynamics came into better focus. From strangers, criticism is just criticism, but from the people close to us (especially parents), criticism is often received as disappointment and disapproval. It hits differently and lasts longer. Since the argument, I’ve been extra attentive to how the dog is behaving – trying to ensure he isn’t a bother, trying to keep him out of the way. Recognizing this shame, I had a better understanding of how my brother has felt every time my parents criticized something one of his kids did. I became acutely aware of how my brother and I learned these reactions and defenses: stay out of the way, try not to upset, over-correct and over-anticipate.
Feeling as though I was a disappointment or that I was putting them out, I was reminded of the many other times these arguments have played out (over grades, over poor athletic performance, over not being serious enough). This is, to some extent, unavoidable in parent / child relationships. Parents are supposed to provide feedback, guidance, and when necessary, corrections. Children are supposed to listen, “obey” (a word I’m not fond of), and learn. The act of raising a child inevitably involves praise and punishment… which, over time, creates its own gravity of norms, its own patterns of discourse and disagreement – patterns that can be difficult to see and difficult to change. Then, as full-grown adults in new relationships, we talk about how we need to learn (or relearn) how to fight and argue…. mostly because our methods and styles have been shaped over years of experience with parents, teachers, and prior partners.
It’s taken me a week to think about whether or not I overreacted (I think I did) and why. These patterns in communication are difficult to see in the moment and in the relationship – though I suspect, they’re obvious to outside observers. I hear the way my dad and stepmom bicker and I sometimes cringe at how unkind my father can be in an argument. I often want to say something. I don’t because I’m not sure he would see it, much less change it. He’s always exasperated and often dismissive. I’ve seen this in other relationships too. I can remember traveling to meet a girlfriend’s family and not being able to pinpoint a similar (yet different) discomfort I felt in watching some of her interactions with her father. Again, I wanted to point it out, but wasn’t sure how it would be received. When she and her father would talk she sometimes seemed dismissive of what he was saying and sometimes seemed defensive (unnecessarily so). He might say something like, “you have to pull in on the other side to get to the parking lot,” and her response would be, “I know you have to pull in on the other side.” It was as if they were sometimes talking past each other in an attempt to set the record straight or make whatever point it was they had wanted to make… arguing for the sake of arguing. Parent giving instruction followed by child saying, I know how to do this. Family dynamics and communication styles can be weird.
I sometimes wonder if we all behave this way – disagreeable and stubborn to the point of forgetting our common decency. How many of our disagreements are about things other than what we think we’re arguing about? Living with other people can be hard, escaping can be harder… and navigating the desires and disappointments as we try to do both is probably the hardest of all.