The first vacation for most of my students comes when they go home for Thanksgiving. And for many of them it is a joyful time, the chance for a big family gathering, the opportunity to see old high school friends, and just the fun of walking the old familiar streets of home.

In my Values Clarification class we were working on some things that all of us could do to make the holiday more meaningful. I was into encouraging my students to plan some formal way to validate one or both of their parents, and we were brainstorming ways to do that, when suddenly, one my students burst out in tears.

"I don't want to go home." She let out a great storm of anger. "The minute he sees me he'll start with his criticisms. 'Look at your hair. Stand up straight. Quit slouching. How are your grades? Is your room in the dorm the mess I know it is?' He won't let up." And more tears thundered out.

I asked some questions, listened carefully to her answers, and then with some inspiration outside of myself I offered her an alternative. "When your dad starts in on you, just listen to him until he's done, and then, I know it will be a great risk, go up to him, and cup his face between your hands, and while you're holding him, say: 'Daddy, I don't need your criticism at this time. What I really need is your love. I need your encouragement, your support and your affirmations.'"

The room grew silent. She quit crying, and nodded, "I can do that." We took time to let her practice it with two different men in the room. By the second practice, her words came out confident and sure.

When class met again after the vacation, we all wanted to know what happened. This is what she told us. "He seemed angry at first, but I held his face between my hands, and looked him right in the eye, and repeated it, 'Daddy, I don't need your criticism, I need your love.' And he started to cry. I hugged him, for a long time. And all he said was, "I understand."

She told us how they had sat down and had one of the most meaningful talks of their entire lives together. He told her--admitted to her--that he was anxious about her happiness, her success, her well-being. But, he now realized that the only way he found to express those things was through harping and carping at her--leaving everything else unsaid.

She tried to explain to him how this came across to her, and there were really other ways he could show her his love and concern. She also agreed that there were some things she was quite willing to change if they were making him so anxious--because there were, indeed, little things she could change quite easily.

The turning point was clearly that she had said: "Stop, I don't need this continuous criticism--I won't accept it, and it's getting us nothing but hostility and pain." However, because she was now a college student, and had learned a thing or two, she had used gentleness and love in her approach to that big, hovering, father who was criticizing her.

When she was done, the class applauded her. Amidst that noise I knew once again what teaching needs to be, but even more, how much courage it takes to be a genuine student.

- The End -