When Fears are Real
Fear based on actual experience needs different handling from the purely imaginative anxieties of childhood
My letter this week describes a situation in which acute nervousness arises in a child from an actual experience. It is probable that many of the phobias and anxieties of little children do arise in actual experiences, but very often these experiences are so slight that the grown-ups do not notice them at the time or think them important. In this case, however, a frightening experience was very definite and apparent to everybody.
“R. S.” writes: “I should be glad of your advice in regard to my little girl of just four years old. She is a bonny little girl, but suffers from occasional attacks of sickness, which I am treating as for acidosis. My problem is this: she is very nervous of other small children. She had rather an unfortunate experience with a little boy friend, who, when we were staying with him, used to bite her and take every opportunity of bullying her. This was when she was one year and nine month, and then she had a similar experience at three years of age. Since then she has been very nervous of other children, especially boys. She seemed to grow out of it with careful management. I have had little ones in to play with her when possible, and in time she got to like that and was very sweet and friendly with them, but at any sign of roughness or screaming, etc., would get terrified and cry bitterly. Then I thought I would let her start Sunday-school, in the hope that this would help her to mix with others.
She did not much want to go, but as she had a very kind teacher who loves and understands children I thought it would do her no harm. She seemed to like it, and came home bright and eager to tell me all about it. But last Sunday, to my disappointment, when she arrived with her sister (a girl of thirteen) they found that her teacher had left, and Betty begged and cried bitterly to go home. Her sister could do nothing with her, and at last had to bring her home. I am puzzled to know what to do. I suffered dreadfully from nervousness as a child, and this so played on my health that I was from school a whole year with what the doctor called a ‘tired heart.’ I also had dreadful night terrors and walked in my sleep. In fact, nervousness has been a great drawback to me all my life, and I am so very anxious that Betty should not have the same handicap. Some of my friends seem to think that I should be firmer and force her more, but this only seems to make her worse and drive her into a panic. Do you think it would be advisable for me to start her at a small private school next spring, as she will have to attend the Council school eventually, and I am afraid that the roughness will be too much for her, going straight from home? Unfortunately, I am not able at present to have any little friends in, but I take her into company as much as possible. Do you think it wise to postpone going to Sunday-school for the present, or would you still insist on her going? She has only the one sister of thirteen years, who attends the Grammar school and is far too busy with homework and games to have much time for Betty. I hope my letter is not too long. It seems a small trouble to bother you with, but I am really rather worried about it, and long to see her an independent little person able to look after herself. Betty is also nervous of going out alone, and will not go a dozen yards from the house herself.
When a child has had a real and severe experience of this kind it is obviously more difficult to comfort her against fears than when they are purely imaginary. One can no longer say to the child, “There is nothing to be frightened of,” because she knows by experience that there is something to be frightened of, or, at any rate, that there may be. She has no guarantee that other little boys will not bully and bite, and if one simply says, “There is nothing to be afraid of,” the child feels that we are untrustworthy. Obviously, such a situation needs rather different handling from a case of a child who imagines it all.
Time will be an important factor. So young a child cannot be expected to get over such an experience all at once, and as she has had it twice she had had a good deal of confirmation of her fears. Obviously her fears go beyond her experience, but then one can readily understand that being bitten and bullied at twenty-one months of age would seem overwhelmingly terrifying. There is no doubt that you would be well advised to shelter her from any possible repetition of such experience. I should certainly not force her to go to places where she is likely to be frightened, whether with or without justification. It would be a great mistake to treat her fears as mere naughtiness and force her. I am sure you are right in feeling that this will only drive her into real panic. I would not go on the simple line of saying, “There is nothing to be frightened of, because she knows that one is not always right. I would say, rather, that, “There are lots of boys and lots of girls in the world who do not bully or frighten little children. It just happened that you met one or two who did, but most of them are not like that.” I should try to arrange for as much social life as possible, but under really good supervision, so that she does feel she has a reliable friend to safeguard her. As regards the Sunday-school, I would not force her to go unless she finds a new teacher with who she feels secure. If you could it would be wise to arrange for her to meet the new teacher first - if she could come to tea, for example - so that she made friends with her. You could surely explain the situation to the new teacher, and she would then feel that if she won the child’s friendship everything would be alright. Otherwise, if this could not be arranged, I would not force her to go.
With regard to the idea of beginning her at a small private school, if you were satisfied that the school was the right sort of place I think it would be a good plan. If there is only a small number of children and the person on charge is really capable and reliable, then I think it would be a help to the child. It would make a bridge for her to ordinary school conditions. The large numbers at the Council school might themselves be rather frightening to her apart from the roughness. It will be in the play interval that there might be risk of the children being rough for her. But, again, you could speak a word to the mistress in charge about the child’s early experiences, so that she would keep a special eye upon what happens to her. If you can grade her experience in this way, giving her as much social life as possible, but making sure that she is not again put into a frightening situation, she may become as independent as other children. But one obviously has to be patient with a child who has had unfortunate real experiences.
