by Maya Raj Do you know what’s a lot harder than wrestling toothy alligators with your bare hands or sky diving from the nearest skyscraper in your miniskirt? It’s having a shy child. Or to be precise: having a shy child and raising her in India, the land of constant chatter from a billion opinionated, wagging tongues. I remember when my daughter was in Standard 1, a week into classes one June morning, I received calls in quick succession from three different school authorities. Much to my alarm, these academic heavy weights wanted to talk to me immediately. I rushed over, literally panting, bindi and dupatta all askew. I had heard about The Call from other mums. My best friend had received The Call the week before because her son had climbed the nearest (and tallest) tree and didn’t know how to get down, throwing the authorities into an understandable tizzy. My child however could never be branded as the boisterous type. In fact, she took extra pains to just blend into the background. So what in the world was wrong? Little did I know then that in the years to follow, The Call would be the way I greeted every fresh academic year. A teacher would sit behind a desk, appraise me with a sense of pity and wonder aloud what exactly had frozen my daughter’s vocal chords. She wasn’t reciting her verse, neither would she actively participate in classroom discussions. “Are you sure she hasn’t had some kind of trauma?” the teacher would question with one eyebrow cocked in the air, subjecting me to the full glory of a pained, warning look. I sigh and proceed to tell her (and the countless ones that follow this Freudian line of thought) that her home life is almost boringly normal. “We’re a close-knit joint family, a rarity in these days, I agree, but not an abnormality.” [caption id=“attachment_161238” align=“alignleft” width=“380” caption=“A shy child is often the most underestimated soul on the planet. A keen observer of human nature and of the world around them, they have a heightened sense of perception. Reuters”]  [/caption] Over they years, I’ve fielded questions ranging from ‘What’s wrong with her?" to “She can talk, can’t she?” One teacher insisted she was being stubborn because she chattered away to her friends, but wouldn’t speak to her! Another suggested voice training. “Her voice needs to be strengthened. May I recommend honey and milk every morning?” Yet another suggested I should get her to read aloud while looking at her reflection in the mirror. These very teachers were quick to admit that she’s a good student, is organised, turns in her homework on time, scores good marks on tests and has made good friends. And yet, the complaints over her ultra-shyness never waned. I’m usually pretty thick-skinned and adept at turning a deaf ear. But one teacher’s throwaway remark really had me stumped. “She talks to you, doesn’t she?” she asked me in all earnestness. I was so used to my daughter’s chattering away to me everyday that it never occurred to me to mention it as proof of her ability to talk! It also struck me then that nothing makes people more uncomfortable than a person (or a child) of few words. In a world that explodes with social networking, where even online we encounter all kinds of verbal diarrhea, is it so inconceivable that there are quieter, gentler souls around? That if you don’t want to talk, it’s not a crime? Today’s parents are expected to provide that first push (or shove!) and medals to those who raise the most gregarious over-achiever! If your child dances on the desktop, complains about everything and sundry, throws a tantrum that would put Britney-Madonna to shame, they’re considered ‘intelligent’, even ‘restless’ and ‘gifted’. But the sensitivity of a shy child is often thought of as a handicap, something that has to be ‘changed’. I wouldn’t change my daughter’s personality for the world. But it’s never a cool parenting mantra to embrace a child as he/she is. And in this issue, it was unanimous: Kids who choose not to talk don’t have a prayer at realising their dreams. The equation of speech with success is obviously not just about teaching kids social pleasantries. Speech is often regarded as your ticket to the top, that helps you keep up with the Joneses, land you valuable contacts and hurtle you towards fame and fortune. It’s then that I realised that it’s our system— it just can’t let a genuinely shy child be. Every school in the country is obsessed with turning out those ‘well-rounded’ personalities. Often that means you need to have the gift of the gab in addition to a brand of brattish aggressiveness in order to achieve a modicum of success in today’s world. A shy child is often the most underestimated soul on the planet. A keen observer of human nature and of the world around them, they have a heightened sense of perception. This basically means that on a day that you’re upset or not feeling well, he/she is most likely to sense your mood without your having to explain or defend it in so many words. In their sensitive and thoughtful way, shy children are naturally helpful and may do everything they can to ease your burden. There’s a greater degree of maturity here and contrary to popular belief, they make deep and lasting friendships, despite taking a longer time than others their age to open up. Being a journalist, I understand the importance of effective communication. But I also know that some things can’t be forced, no matter how hard you try. So cherish your shy child and don’t let anyone tell you that he or she is lacking simply because they aren’t vocal enough. Instead of badgering them to speak, encourage them to follow up on their hobbies and interests instead. (My daughter found her passion in Bharatanatyam. Oddly enough, she doesn’t feel stage fright when she performs). Above all, give your shy child the luxury of discovering who they are at their own pace. And like the butterfly that gently lands on your shoulder when your head is turned, their personalities will bloom when you least expect it. Maya Raj loves reading, writing and people watching, but not exactly in that order. She’s published over 500 articles in 10 countries.
There’s no trauma. She doesn’t need honey and lemon or voice lessons. She’s just shy. In India today raising a shy child is a tough job. Everyone thinks a shy kid can never realise her dreams.
Advertisement
End of Article
Written by FP Archives
see more