One of the joys of parenting is seeing type preferences develop in my
children, Charlie and Erica.
On the night before Charlie started school, we - Charlie's introverted parents
and grandmother (INTJ, ISTJ, and INTP respectively) were discussing our
traumatic first days of school, all ending with the same lament: "I
hope it isn't like that for Charlie."
We had no reason to worry, for the moment we entered the classroom, Charlie
found an empty seat, ran to it, grabbed a toy, introduced himself to everyone
at the table, and started talking to one of the teachers. when I mentioned
that Charlie had a sister , the teacher's aide said, "I know-Charlie
just told us." I have noticed other signs of his preference for extraversion:
his need to be with others, his acute sense of others' moods, his need to
talk his concepts out.-a series of needs that I will have to be aware of,
and above all respect. For the immediate future, I will have to become a
"joiner", and make sure I'm aware of what the PTO, Little League,
and Scouts are doing.
"I Want to go to a Place"
My wife Teresa and I love to drive, and-although we are both ITJs-we
drive with no particular place to go." But Charlie is baffled, even
irritated ,by the thought of a trip going nowhere. "Daddy, I don't
want to just drive around-I want to go to a place". He must have a
purpose and know what it is. Out of time , out of sequence is something
to be corrected, changed or condemned as he sees fit.
My task as his father is to develop his sense of purpose ; as an introverted
father, I must learn to tolerate a greater intrusion into my inner world
than I am accustomed to. Like an extraverted judger, Charlie gets excited
about his discoveries, and wastes no time in letting the world know about
them, while I-an introverted judger who values time and space,-can't always
shift gears fast enough and often find myself annoyed.
My daughter Erica is a complex child who never ceases to fascinate and amaze
me. I am sure of is that she is intuitive from the patterns she finds, and
the casual connections she makes. One morning, when I came down in a green
bathrobe and black pajamas. Erica noted, "Daddy you look like a tree-Green
on top and black on the bottom." At breakfast she noted that her half
eaten toast looked like a cat (her brother started arguing that it didn't
look like a cat, it looked like an owl.)
Names of the Dead
Erica's intuition forces me to stay on my toes, making sure I understand
her reactions, for their cause is often not readily apparent. Last weekend,
we took her to the doctor's office, where she spotted a letter board in
a glass casing with the names and room numbers of the various businesses
in the complex. "Daddy, are these the names of people who've died?"
she asked me. It took me a moment to realize that the only place she had
seen such a letter board was at our church, where we list parishioners who
have died.
Always, I must consider the pattern she is seeing, not the details of the
situation. This can complicate disciplining: Sometimes I see deliberate
patterns of misbehavior that call for swift discipline, but I must be sure
that the pattern is really there.
Breaking the Chain
We fight it all the time. The voice we hear, the voice we pass on that
says "be like me." What I think is important is all that's important.
It's too easy, and too tempting, as a parent to impose maxims on your children.
Conversely, there is no quicker way to abuse a person-especially a child-that
to imply that there's something wrong if they're not like you, or if what's
important to them is not what's important to you.
In his book "Nasty People: How to Stop Being Hurt by Them Without Becoming
One of Them" Jay Carter refers to this process as "Invalidation."
As a mechanism, it spreads from person to person without being recognized
it for the destructive force it is. In no area of life can it be more damaging
than in the parental role. My knowledge of type has given me a tool that
allows my children to be what I am not, and to respect (or at least appreciate)
what I may not value.
© 1995 Charles E. Vermette. All rights reserved.
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