Source: Washington Post
Link: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A52899-2004Aug9.html
Title: "Feeling the Heat"
Date: August 10, 2004
The latest parenting disciplinary controversy to arise seems to be the practice of "hot saucing" a child, or forcing a child to endure pepper sauce on the tongue.
The article includes input from saucing parents, including one who is so proud of her behavior that she would not be interviewed for the story by her real name. Parents who engage in the practice say nothing else has worked.
The "experts," of course (pediatricians, psychologists, &c), recommend against the practice. Crosen, who would only be interviewed for the story by her maiden name, said "Walk a mile in my shoes first. What I'm doing is minor compared to what kids used to get 40 or 50 years ago . . . Everyone has to do what works for them, within reason."
The courageous testimonies continue:
Not all of the advocates try to hide their identity, though. Amanda DeLorme, who recommended the practice to a group called DC Urban Moms, notes that saucing, "works like a charm." DeLorme says she was at a point where she would try anything to correct her 2 1/2 year-old son's mouth, and tried saucing:
Lisa Whelchel, author of Creative Correction: Extraordinary Ideas for Everyday Disciplane (Focus on Family/Tyndale), notes that, "A correction has to hurt just a little," and explains that parents must draw a line and when the child crosses that line, there should be pain.
Comment:
I can't imagine resorting to this tactic on my daughter. What sets me so dubiously about it is the focus on pain and punishment. One anonymous practitioner noted that the use of hot sauce instills fear and confirms the physical mastery of the parent. Personally, I doubt that method of discipline inasmuch as it seems to define right and wrong in terms of what does or does not earn retribution from an authority figure.
We can start with McIlhenny Co., of Avery Island, Louisiana. The owners of the name "Tabasco" condemn the practice of saucing children. Company President Paul McIlhenny has described the practice as "strange and scary," and called it "abusive."
Or we might look to the so-called experts: Family therapist Carleton Kendrick says parents who use the technique are ill-informed, and points to various health hazards including tissue damage and choking hazards. Evangelical Christian author Tim Kimmel (Grace-Based Parenting, from W Publishing Group), admits he has heard of the efficacy of saucing, but notes:
Part of the question is the safety of the method itself:
Author Whelchel, whose fame also includes a stint as a Mouseketeer and her tenure as Blair on TV's The Facts of Life, exemplifies unintentionally the problems of such discipline:
Much of the argument seems to be taking place among Christians; I'm not yet sure whether that notion is significant in and of itself.
The questions that arise are fairly straightforward:
• Is fear of punishment the best, only, or proper reason to behave?
• How many of these folks checked with their doctors before dosing their kids with pepper?
• Will the same process work equally on my child as it did on Joe's?
• What is the result of proper behavior? The child's benefit or the parent's peace of mind?
Which brings us back 'round to a central question that troubles me: One of the parents in the article used the sauce on her 2 1/2 year-old child for "defiant talk," in order to teach that "children need to respect and obey [parents] or they won't learn to respect and obey God."
Now, as many aspersions as I might cast on the bit about God, I'm much more intrigued by the notion of her 2 1/2 year-old's defiant talk.
I get to experience that phase next year. I'm actually rather quite excited, but that's beside the point. Rather, I would like to know where the 2 1/2 year-old learned such defiant talk as to warrant what another mother calls "chemical warfare"? After all, before I get around to undertaking disciplinary measures, I hope to have some understanding of the nature of my child's defiant talk. If she's merely imitating her mother and myself, what use is hot sauce? In addition to establishing my physical mastery, I would be reminding my daughter to not imitate her parents, at the stake of pain.
I expect my daughter's defiant talk to derive in some tangible manner from the conduct of her mother and myself. Before I go about scorching her tongue, I ought to consider what comes off my own.
Of course, if she takes after her mother I might be obliged to skip straight past hot sauce to electroshock therapy.
So ... whaddaya think?
• Who's been sauced?
• Who sauces their kids?
• What wisdom might such folks have to offer this discussion?
Take "grabbing," for instance. In one of the most remarkable turns I've witnessed, my partner dropped her harsh rebuke and instead played "peek-a-boo" with my daughter after she snatched momma's glasses. "Where's Emma Grace?" asked mother curiously, peering around the room. Emma tried to place the glasses back on momma's nose and then applauded: "There's Emma!"
I thought it was cute at the time, but she doesn't insist on swiping our eyeglasses anymore. No spanking, no wrenching, no yelling.
We--or at least I, as my partner is unpredictable in such cases--will continue our policy of nonviolence. In fact, I insist upon it. As such, this practice of peppering one's children seems rather ... mistaken.
____________________
• Buckholtz, Alison. "Feeling the Heat." Washington Post, August 10, 2004; page HE01. See http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A52899-2004Aug9.html
Link: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A52899-2004Aug9.html
Title: "Feeling the Heat"
Date: August 10, 2004
The latest parenting disciplinary controversy to arise seems to be the practice of "hot saucing" a child, or forcing a child to endure pepper sauce on the tongue.
"Hot saucing," or "hot tongue," has roots in Southern culture, according to some advocates of the controversial disciplinary method, but it has spread throughout the country. Nobody keeps track of how many parents do it, but most experts contacted for this story, including pediatricians, psychologists and child welfare professionals, were familiar with it.
The use of hot sauce has been advocated in a popular book, in a magazine for Christian women and on Internet sites. Web-based discussions on parenting carry intense, often emotional exchanges on the topic.
But parents aren't the only ones asking "to sauce or not to sauce?" Several state governments have gotten involved in the debate. In Michigan in 2002, a child care center was sanctioned for using hot sauce to discipline a child. The mother of the 18-month-old boy reportedly gave the child care workers permission to use the sauce to help dissuade her son from biting other children.
Virginia's child protective services agency lists hot saucing among disciplinary tactics it calls "bizarre behaviors." The list includes such methods as forcing a child to kneel on sharp gravel, and locking him in a closet.
Source: Washington Post
The article includes input from saucing parents, including one who is so proud of her behavior that she would not be interviewed for the story by her real name. Parents who engage in the practice say nothing else has worked.
Crosen, who learned about the technique from a friend who carries packets of hot sauce in her purse to correct her own children's misbehavior, said she administers the sauce only "after many warnings, and for extreme circumstances," like when her son called his 3-year-old sister a "crybaby." She said she uses it about four times per year.
Source: Washington Post
The "experts," of course (pediatricians, psychologists, &c), recommend against the practice. Crosen, who would only be interviewed for the story by her maiden name, said "Walk a mile in my shoes first. What I'm doing is minor compared to what kids used to get 40 or 50 years ago . . . Everyone has to do what works for them, within reason."
The courageous testimonies continue:
A mother of two children who relocated to Chevy Chase after a series of moves from Louisiana said the use of hot sauce on children who misbehave is widespread there. She used hot tongue once on her 5-year-old, for biting, and still believes in the practice. But she now says she wouldn't do it "because we can communicate more clearly."
The woman, who insisted on not being identified for this story because she didn't want to be publicly associated with the controversial practice, said that use of hot sauce instills fear and confirms the physical mastery of a parent, which she believes are negative outcomes. But "I need some discipline for egregious acts," she said.
The use of sauce is a last resort, a "worst-case scenario," she said, and should remain so. "As parents, we're all trying to do the best by our children. Hugs go a long way. Kids need lots of love and affection."
She has passed on the advice about hot sauce to friends in her child's play group. Like other parents who use hot sauce, she believes that "hot tongue is more of a threat than actual method" of applying discipline.
Source: Washington Post
Not all of the advocates try to hide their identity, though. Amanda DeLorme, who recommended the practice to a group called DC Urban Moms, notes that saucing, "works like a charm." DeLorme says she was at a point where she would try anything to correct her 2 1/2 year-old son's mouth, and tried saucing:
"He is better behaved as a result," DeLorme said. "He'll say, 'Please don't give me hot tongue, Mommy,' and [the threat] interrupts his behavior. We'll talk about it, hug and make up. That's what usually happens."
In those rare instances when the threat is not enough, DeLorme pries his mouth open and puts one drop of sauce on her son's tongue. "I don't feel like I am physically hurting him," said DeLorme, who described herself as "opposed to spanking and physical violence."
Like some other parents who use hot sauce, Crosen believes it is an appropriate punishment for "defiant talk. . . . I use it when the mouth is the offending party. He needs to learn to control what's coming out of his mouth. If it's his tongue that gets him in trouble, it's his tongue that gets punished."
As a Christian, she believes that "children need to respect and obey [parents] or they won't learn to respect and obey God. God won't hot sauce you, but you need to learn consequences."
Source: Washington Post
Lisa Whelchel, author of Creative Correction: Extraordinary Ideas for Everyday Disciplane (Focus on Family/Tyndale), notes that, "A correction has to hurt just a little," and explains that parents must draw a line and when the child crosses that line, there should be pain.
Comment:
I can't imagine resorting to this tactic on my daughter. What sets me so dubiously about it is the focus on pain and punishment. One anonymous practitioner noted that the use of hot sauce instills fear and confirms the physical mastery of the parent. Personally, I doubt that method of discipline inasmuch as it seems to define right and wrong in terms of what does or does not earn retribution from an authority figure.
We can start with McIlhenny Co., of Avery Island, Louisiana. The owners of the name "Tabasco" condemn the practice of saucing children. Company President Paul McIlhenny has described the practice as "strange and scary," and called it "abusive."
Or we might look to the so-called experts: Family therapist Carleton Kendrick says parents who use the technique are ill-informed, and points to various health hazards including tissue damage and choking hazards. Evangelical Christian author Tim Kimmel (Grace-Based Parenting, from W Publishing Group), admits he has heard of the efficacy of saucing, but notes:
"Just because something works, that doesn't mean it's a good idea . . . .
. . . . Fear can be very effective as a discipline technique, but it's overkill. You haven't corrected the problem, and it means nothing in terms of building character. Our job as parents is to build character, not to adjust behavior."
Source: Washington Post
Part of the question is the safety of the method itself:
Capsaicin, the substance that makes peppers hot, inflames membranes in the eyes, nose and mouth. While many adults find this feeling pleasurable, capsaicin can cause negative reactions even in the third of the adult population that has no tolerance for ingesting it, according to Joel Gregory, publisher of Chile Pepper magazine.
There are additional risks for children. Giorgio Kulp, a pediatrician in Montgomery County, said that the risk of swelling as well as the possibility of unknown allergies make the use of hot sauce on children dangerous.
"Every child's reaction, physically, is different," he said, adding that a parent who hears that hot sauce works safely on one child should be wary of using it on another child.
Source: Washington Post
Author Whelchel, whose fame also includes a stint as a Mouseketeer and her tenure as Blair on TV's The Facts of Life, exemplifies unintentionally the problems of such discipline:
For example, she suggests hiding something a child has failed to put away, to teach the lesson that things left out may disappear. She suggests telling a child who refuses to hold your hand while crossing a street, "I can either hold your hand or hold your hair."
In addition, Whelchel offers the following: "For lying or other offenses of the tongue, I 'spank' my kids' tongues. I put a tiny drop of hot sauce on the end of my finger and dab it onto my child's tongue. It stings for a while, but it abates. (It's the memory that lingers!)" . . . .
. . . . "If there's a mom who shakes the bottle on the kid's tongue, that mom probably does deserve to have someone poking into her business," Whelchel said. "But I think most moms are caring and intuitive. You can't throw out a bunch of good stuff because of the exceptions."
"Creative Correction" provides long lists of scriptural passages that, in Whelchel's view, justify a variety of disciplinary practices.
For example, she quotes the Book of Proverbs -- "The mouth of the righteous brings forth wisdom, but a perverse tongue will be cut out" -- and follows with this suggestion: "A short pinch by a clothespin on the tongue can discourage foul language."
Source: Washington Post
Much of the argument seems to be taking place among Christians; I'm not yet sure whether that notion is significant in and of itself.
The questions that arise are fairly straightforward:
• Is fear of punishment the best, only, or proper reason to behave?
• How many of these folks checked with their doctors before dosing their kids with pepper?
• Will the same process work equally on my child as it did on Joe's?
• What is the result of proper behavior? The child's benefit or the parent's peace of mind?
"She told us the devil was dancing on our tongue, and she put a drop of Tabasco on it to drive him away," said McGowen, who grew up in Philadelphia . . . "All I had to do was see the bottle. Even if [my mother] was just using it for cooking or adding it to a recipe, it put fear in me."
McGowen will not pass her saucing experience down to her son.
"I don't need to resort to chemical warfare . . . ."
Source: Washington Post
Which brings us back 'round to a central question that troubles me: One of the parents in the article used the sauce on her 2 1/2 year-old child for "defiant talk," in order to teach that "children need to respect and obey [parents] or they won't learn to respect and obey God."
Now, as many aspersions as I might cast on the bit about God, I'm much more intrigued by the notion of her 2 1/2 year-old's defiant talk.
I get to experience that phase next year. I'm actually rather quite excited, but that's beside the point. Rather, I would like to know where the 2 1/2 year-old learned such defiant talk as to warrant what another mother calls "chemical warfare"? After all, before I get around to undertaking disciplinary measures, I hope to have some understanding of the nature of my child's defiant talk. If she's merely imitating her mother and myself, what use is hot sauce? In addition to establishing my physical mastery, I would be reminding my daughter to not imitate her parents, at the stake of pain.
I expect my daughter's defiant talk to derive in some tangible manner from the conduct of her mother and myself. Before I go about scorching her tongue, I ought to consider what comes off my own.
Of course, if she takes after her mother I might be obliged to skip straight past hot sauce to electroshock therapy.
So ... whaddaya think?
• Who's been sauced?
• Who sauces their kids?
• What wisdom might such folks have to offer this discussion?
Take "grabbing," for instance. In one of the most remarkable turns I've witnessed, my partner dropped her harsh rebuke and instead played "peek-a-boo" with my daughter after she snatched momma's glasses. "Where's Emma Grace?" asked mother curiously, peering around the room. Emma tried to place the glasses back on momma's nose and then applauded: "There's Emma!"
I thought it was cute at the time, but she doesn't insist on swiping our eyeglasses anymore. No spanking, no wrenching, no yelling.
We--or at least I, as my partner is unpredictable in such cases--will continue our policy of nonviolence. In fact, I insist upon it. As such, this practice of peppering one's children seems rather ... mistaken.
____________________
• Buckholtz, Alison. "Feeling the Heat." Washington Post, August 10, 2004; page HE01. See http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A52899-2004Aug9.html