Questions that have nothing to answer

Why did you do it? “Well, did I tell you (a)!?” What can be said in response to these exclamations? We usually address them to delinquent children. Assuming that we educate them in this way. We achieve, however, as a result of the exact opposite effect.

These dreary scenes have probably been observed by each of us more than once. And more than once he was in the role of a questioner. And often, unfortunately, in the role of the questioner.

The teacher asks the student who broke the light bulb (triggered a classmate, put the thermometer in a flower pot, drew a face on the blackboard): “Why did you do this?” Mom reproaches her son: “Why did you get your pants dirty (broke a chair, picked out raisins from a roll, took a cutlet from your sister’s plate)?” Or: “How many times have I told you?” The father looks for a long time into the eyes of the child, who has gone mad from the misconduct, and finally says: “Don’t you know that it’s impossible? ..” And so on.

At the same time, the children, who moo in response and show suffering in every possible way, seem to us phenomenally stupid at this moment: “Well, why are you silent?”

In fact, the situation is exactly the opposite: we in this situation (even the smartest of us) show extraordinary stupidity, because we do not understand that there is no right answer to our question. Well, none!

For some reason, parents think that this is from the category of pedagogical issues. The child will think, come to his senses, correct himself. Nothing happened. The child feels terribly humiliated with such execution questions. After all, he accepts them sincerely and ingenuously, that is, indeed, at least out of respect, he is trying to find an answer. And it can’t. It doesn’t occur to him that these are not questions at all, but pure rhetoric, a desire, voluntary or involuntary, to plunge him into a feeling of guilt, from which, frankly, there is no way out.

Of course, we also resort to these questions from helplessness, from the inability to cope with the situation (which the child also does not suspect). We do not want to assume that the child himself has already regretted his deed a thousand times. That is, his conscience turned on before we started asking questions. By the way, at this moment it would be nice to sympathize with him, affectionately, with the assumption that he will share this reproach with us, to reproach: “Oh, you blunder-paw!” Or: “I didn’t expect my comrade to be so badly broken? We must be careful in such matters. Go apologize. He’s in pain.” Or: “We’ll fix the chair together. Deal?”

Yes, there are many options. If the consequences of the offense are really serious, there is still forgiveness in store. Serious forgiveness for a serious misconduct. But for some reason, for most of us, all this seems unpedagogical. We are sure that only a moment of awareness is beneficial, although it most often happens without our words and certainly not due to unanswered questions.

And why, in fact, there is no answer? Yes, because not only children, but also we, adults, do a lot in life unconsciously, out of whim, fantasy or whim. Or, in any case, without thinking too much about the consequences. Sometimes by malicious intent, which we are ashamed to admit to ourselves later. And even more so to another, even a native person, who asks point-blank: “Why?”

For some reason, we proceed from the fact that man is a rational being. Well, we’re Homo sapiens, and all that. However, this conviction comes from the Age of Enlightenment, and after it a lot of things happened to humanity and a lot of things it understood about itself. Dostoevsky, for example, who, at the very least, went through school, believed that “a person needs only one independent desire, no matter what this independence may cost.” Not that we are completely unreasonable, but we act irrationally all the time. In general, we know this about ourselves, but for some reason we don’t know about the other.

I will say again: this is not only a pedagogical matter. That is, from time to time, we talk not only with the child, but also with each other: a husband with his wife, a boss with a subordinate. And it means about the same thing: the inability to cope with the situation, to see in another the same traits of weakness, frivolity, thoughtlessness, fantasy born of ambition or resentment that we know in ourselves. see and forgive. We do forgive ourselves. Conscience then torments. And it hurts them. In the light of a new day, everything seems different, and you repent, you repent sincerely. The other one does exactly the same. Trust me. Or at least similar to us. In any case, it is better both for the other and for oneself to assume precisely this. Asking “why” and “why” is of little help anyway.

Leave a Reply