The other day, while enjoying a peaceful moment on the outdoor patio at a coffee shop, my relaxation was abruptly interrupted by the screaming of a man and a woman. On Central Avenue, a woman angrily slammed the car door, exclaiming, "I can walk to my f*cking work. F*ck you." Holding her hand and standing by her side was a young boy, maybe three years old. The man in the car yelled back at her as he matched the car's speed to the pace of her walk. The woman screamed again, "Leave me alone, I'm walking! F*ck you!" Seconds later, the car sped off, and the little boy innocently yelled, "F*ck youuu," at the car driving away.
I couldn't help but feel a knot tighten in my stomach as I watched the scene unfold. The tension between the adults was palpable, but what really struck me was the little boy's innocent mimicry of the anger he was witnessing. I certainly don't share this story to pass judgment; after all, I do not know the ins and outs of the relationship or what spawned this angry confrontation between these people. In addition, I do not know what happened afterward... maybe later on, they came back together to talk about what happened, using this angry confrontation as a learning lesson for themselves and the child. Regardless, my intention in writing about this is not to shame these adults or their parenting. Instead, I'd like to highlight how this interaction can teach us two truths about ourselves and our world:
There is a direct line from how we act and speak to how our children act and speak.
From birth onward, children are molded by their environments. Our actions and reactions serve as a blueprint for kids in their process of becoming. As such, when children see adults resolving conflicts through shouting, insults, or aggression, they learn to copy and emulate these behaviors, believing them to be 'the norm.' This is a powerful reminder of our responsibility in teaching healthy ways to manage emotions, disagreements and stress. In the case of the young boy, his environment included a moment of intense emotion and conflict. His reaction—mirroring the anger and frustration of the adults around him—perfectly reflects the strong influence of his surroundings, even though he could not fully understand the context or the reasons behind the conflict. This scenario invites us to look at our own lives and take stock of who we are, how we speak, and how this impacts those around us, especially children. As adults, even if we do not have our own children, we still impact children. Who are we teaching children to be through our actions? How are we teaching them to speak with the words we use? How do we engage with conflict? How are we modeling conflict resolution to those around us? To our children?
Our environments, which are inherently unchosen as children, profoundly influence our process of becoming, yet there comes a day when we must assume personal responsibility for our lives—our actions, reactions, emotions, etc.
Until we have the awareness and ability to choose our environment and take more agency over our lives, we are mindlessly soaking in everything around us. However, at some point in life, the act of blaming others becomes obsolete because we are old enough to take responsibility. Perhaps our parents screamed at each other to resolve conflict, and now, in adulthood, we realize we do the same thing. At this point, the behavior has turned into our own pattern. This awareness is our gateway to change. The journey from external influence to internal agency is a crucial part of personal development, as we only have the power to change once we assume full responsibility.
How are you assuming full responsibility for your life?
In what ways does it feel difficult to assume responsibility?
Are you aware of patterns you may have inherited from your parents or family members that you want to change or eliminate?
As with most things, first comes awareness, then comes the work. Suppose we can catch a glimpse of ourselves in emotional distress and conflict, then find space to observe ourselves and reflect. In that case, we can slowly change how we want to confront emotional distress and conflict the next time it surfaces. Of course, it can be challenging to observe ourselves, especially when our ego is involved. That's why a story like the one I opened with can offer a neutral reference point for reflecting on ourselves. Throughout our reflections, the unconscious will become conscious, and we will have a choice moving forward. We can continue to perpetuate the cycles of conflict and pain we've inherited or break them—assuming responsibility for our actions and consciously modeling a different way of being.
What are we willing to choose? For ourselves and the world, what is worth choosing? Again, while we cannot control the environments we are born into, we do gain the ability to choose how we want to live and interact with others as adults. This isn't about perfection. I recognize we all have stories filled with past traumas, hurts, and patterns that have left their imprint on us, influencing how we show up in the world. With that, every moment we spend going inward, reflecting on our actions and reactions, we create the space to model the behavior we want children and adults to carry forward. How could that moment on Central Avenue have been different? What if, instead of shouting, there had been a pause? What if both adults recognized that their emotions were taking over, and the woman still chose to walk to work, but without the anger and yelling? How could this have altered the child's experience?
While we won't ever know how things unfolded for that family, the invitation to reflect is universal. How are we going to show up during conflict? Are we going to assume responsibility for our actions and reactions? What behavior will we model to our children and those around us? How we answer these questions will shape our lives and the world we are passing on to our children and future generations.
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