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'Fred, don't forget to go to Mrs. Milner's to get the name of the lady who does her laundry.'
'Okay, Mom!' And Fred was halfway down the driveway before his mother had time to ask him to do a second errand. Did I say second? No, it would have been the seventh; Mrs. Milner's was already the sixth, and Mrs. Bruce's anxious expression showed that she didn't much faith in her son's, 'Okay, Mom!'
'I just don't know what to do about Fred, doctor. I'm never sure he'll do what I ask him to. Actually, if I were completely honest, I'd have to say that I'm sure he won't. I know it's a trivial matter, but the same thing happens twenty times a day. He seems determined to forget to do anything that's asked of him, and it makes me worried about his future.'
Dr. Maclehose drummed his fingers on the table as he thought, and then pursed his lips to whistle. Mrs. Bruce's comment seemed crazy to him. He had personally delivered all nine of the Bruce children, and he was one of the family's most respected and trusted friends. And he liked the Bruces. How could he not? The parents were smart and friendly, the children were nice looking, well behaved and
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outgoing. They were just the kind of family to have as friends. At the same time, the doctor saw an opportunity in their situation to mount his favorite hobby horse. 'My ideal world is a place where doctors are permitted to act as teachers to parents. It's hard to imagine the Bruce children ruining their lives in half a dozen different ways because their parents don't know any better. And such nice people, too!'
Dr. Maclehose had been in intimate contact with the family for seventeen years, but he had never before had the opportunity to offer his opinion about how they were raising their children. That's why he was drumming his fingers on the table, considering. 'Be gentle and kind, doctor, gentle and kind. Don't make a mess of it now, or you'll never have a chance to say anything again. But if you hit the nail on the head--who knows?'
'Does the same thing happen with his school work?'
'Yes, he's always in trouble. He'll forget to bring his book, or to bring his note, or do his homework. In fact, his whole school career has been nothing more than a list of things he's forgotten and the penalties he's had to endure for them.'
'He sounds even worse than that Dean of Canterbury whose wife made him keep a log of his expenditures; one week's entries read, Gloves--5 dollars, Forgets--4 dollars and fifteen cents. His writing wasn't very legible, so his wife, looking over his shoulder, cried out, 'Faggots! What in the world is that--have you been buying sticks?' 'No, dear, it says forgets.' And his wife gave it up.'
'That's an amusing story, doctor, but an endearing characteristic in a Dean isn't going to help my son survive in the world. Mr. Bruce and I are both worried about Fred.'
'He's one of the school's eleven Cricket players, isn't he?'
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'Oh, yes, and he loves it! He never forgets about his cricket matches! It's, 'Mom, I need to eat early because we have to be on the field by two!' or, 'Don't forget to have my uniform clean for Friday, pretty please, will you, Mommykins?' He knows how to coax. 'My subscription [dues] need to be paid on Thursday, Mom!' and he'll remind me every day until he gets the money.'
'That's good news--it shows that there's nothing wrong with his brain!'
'Good heaven's, doctor! I never thought there was anything wrong with his brain!'
'I didn't mean to alarm you, but, well, you know, it comes down to two things. It's either a chronic disease that needs medical treatment, or it's simply a case of defective education--a bit of trouble resulting from some lack that his parents need to fix as soon as possible.'
Mrs. Bruce was a bit offended at his serious view of the problem. It was one thing for her to complain about her oldest son, the pride of her heart, but it was a different matter altogether to hear someone else taking it seriously.
'Doctor, don't you think maybe you're taking a common childhood flaw a bit too seriously? It's annoying that he's so forgetful, but he'll probably grow out of it in a year or two. Time will make him more reliable. It's just the impulsiveness of youth. For what it's worth, I don't like to see a child who acts and thinks like a grown man.' The doctor started drumming his fingers on the table again. He had already put his foot in his mouth, and he regretted his recklessness.
'Well, I daresay you're right to make some allowances for his age, but we old doctors, whose job is to study the close relationship
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between mind and matter, tend to see only one conclusion. We feel that any fault of the mind or body, if left to itself, will only get worse.'
'Another cup of tea, doctor? I'm not sure I follow--I don't know much about science. Are you saying that Fred will only get more forgetful and less reliable as he gets older?'
'I don't know why I said it so badly, but, yes, that's what I mean. Of course, circumstances might motivate him in the other direction. It's possible that Fred might develop into an old man who's so cautious and serious that his mother will be ashamed of him.'
'Don't make fun of me, doctor. You make the whole thing sound too serious to be a laughing matter.' The doctor gave no reply to that. There was silence in the room for three full minutes, while both of them thought.
Mrs. Bruce spoke up in a haughty tone. 'You say that a fault left to itself will only get worse. What are we supposed to do? His father and I want to do what's right.' Her maternal pride was offended, but Mrs. Bruce was in earnest. All her wits were alert. 'Ah, I see I've scored!' thought the doctor. And then he responded in a gentle, respectful manner in order to soothe her ruffled feathers.
'You ask a question that's not so easy to answer. But allow me, first, to try to clarify the principle. When that's done, the question of what to do will settle itself. Fred never forgets his cricket commitments or other of his fun events, right? Well, why not? Because his interest is excited about it, therefore his whole attention is focused on the fact to be remembered. The fact is, anything that you regard with your full
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attention will be almost impossible to forget. So, if you can get Fred to focus his attention fully on the matter at hand, then he won't forget it.'
'That may be true--but how am I supposed to make a message for Mrs. Milner as interesting to him as his cricket practice?'
'Ah! There's the rub. If you had started this a year ago with Fred, the whole thing would have settled itself. The habit would already have been formed.'
Mrs. Bruce's quick intelligence came to the rescue. 'I see, he needs to have the habit of paying attention so that he'll naturally attend to what he's told, whether it's something he's especially interested in or not.'
'Yes, you've hit it exactly, except for the word 'naturally.' Right now, Fred is pleasantly doing what comes naturally, in this and in some other respects. But to use habit in an educational sense means to correct nature. If only parents would recognize that, the world could become a big corrective school. Then the next generation, or maybe the one after that, would dwell in the kingdom of heaven all the time, rather than every now and then, here and there, which is the best we can seem to manage.'
Mrs. Bruce was persistent. 'I'm not sure I see what you mean. But, getting back to the habit of attention, which is how I need to reform Fred--please tell me what I should do. You men are so fond of going off into principles and theories, while we poor women can't grasp any more than a practical suggestion here and there to put into use. My poor son would be hurt to know how little his doctor 'friend' thinks of him.'
'Poor women, you call yourselves? You've got enough wit that two of your comments have already staggered me! You've accused my theories of having no practical use, and you've questioned my affection for Fred,
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who's been one of my favorites ever since he was out of diapers! And now I'm supposed to be polite? What is it you want me to say next?'
'Talk about habit, doctor, stick to the topic of habit. Don't talk nonsense when time is ticking away; Fred's not getting any younger. Pretend Fred turned one year old today. Please tell me what I should be doing at this young age to help him begin to pay attention. And, by the way, why didn't you bring this up a long time ago, when Fred was little?'
'You never asked me. It would have been rude of me to presume to give you parenting lessons. I wouldn't have done that. Every first-time mother thinks that she's infallible and knows more about children than all the doctors in the world. But, let's pretend you had asked me. I would have said, Give him something every day to occupy himself with, and stretch the time out with each toy a little longer than the day before. Suppose he picks a daisy, coos over it delightedly, and then drops it the next instant. That's when you pick it up, and, using the sweet coaxing ways that mothers know how to employ, you get him to examine it in a baby-like way for a minute, or two minutes, and then three minutes at a time.'
'I see. I should try to fix his thoughts on one thing at a time, and for as long as I can, either on what he sees or what he hears. Do you think that if that sort of thing is continued with a child from his infancy, that he'll get used to paying attention?'
'I'm sure of it. What people call ability--a different thing than genius, or even talent--is nothing more than the power of fixing the attention steadily on the matter at hand,
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and success in life depends on cultivating this ability more than on any natural inborn talent. If you describe a case to a lawyer, or a successful businessman, notice how he absorbs everything you say. He keeps track of the main subject, straightens out any side issues, and, before you've even finished telling him, he'll have the whole matter spread out in order in his mind. Then comes talent or genius, or whatever, to deal with the facts he's taken in. But paying attention is an attribute that comes with training, and no genius makes a shot in the dark without it.'
'But don't you think that attention itself is a natural ability or talent, or whatever?'
'No, not at all. It's entirely the result of training. A person can be born with a natural ability or talent for numbers, or drawing, or music--but attention is a different matter. Attention is simply the ability to turn one's whole self to the matter at hand. It's a key to success that's within everyone's reach, but the skill to use it comes only with training. Circumstances might put a person in a position where he has to train himself to do it, but it takes him a lot more effort when he's older, and nine times out of ten, he won't make the effort. But a child, on the other hand, can be trained by his parents and it will come easy for him. There's no doubt that he'll succeed.'
'But I thought schoolwork, Latin and math, that sort of thing, would provide that kind of training.'
'They should, but there's only a slight possibility that the right wellspring will be touched during a child's normal routine. From what you've said about Fred's schoolwork, I can tell that it hasn't been touched in his case. It's an incredible waste how much knowledge a child will allow to slip by instead of allowing it into his mind! Unfortunately, Fred's schooling won't deal with this training; you'll have to
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take it on yourself. It would be a tragic shame to let a child as fine as Fred waste his life.'
'Well, what can I do?'
'You'll have to start from where you are. We know that Fred has the ability of paying attention and therefore we know he's able to remember. He's already shown that he has no problem remembering what interests him. The question is, how can you make a message to Mrs. Milner as interesting to him as cricket? Well, the message itself will have no intrinsic interest to him in and of itself; the interest will have to be put on it from without. There are lots of ways of doing this. Try one, when it no longer works, try something else. The problem is, with a boy as old as Fred, you won't be able to form the habit of paying attention yourself like you could with a young child. All you can do is to help and encourage him. You can give him the impulse and motivation, but he'll have to do the training for himself.'
'Can you say it again and use all one-syllable words, doctor? I haven't figured out how to reduce your comments to practical things I can do about it.'
'No? Well, Fred will have to train himself at this point, and you'll have to provide motives for him. Explain to him what we've been talking about regarding attention. Let him know the facts, and that you can't do it for him. If he wants to make a responsible man of himself, he'll have to make himself attend and remember. Let him know that it will be an uphill battle because the habit of paying attention goes against his natural impulses. That will appeal to him--it's within a boy's nature to show some fighting spirit. The bigger and darker you make the enemy side seem, the more he'll enjoy participating. When I was a boy, I had to fight this very same battle myself, and I'll tell you what I did. I posted a card every week, with a line down the middle. One side was for 'Remembers,' and the other side was for 'Forgets.' I went over what I had done every night--just the effort of remembering what I had done over the day was helpful--and put a check mark for every time I had remembered or forgotten something
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that day. I pretended there were two guys playing--I was the on the Remembers side, and my opponent was on the Forgets side. It got really exciting! By Thursday, if I had 33 points in my Remembers side, and he had 36, it motivated me to be serious and fight harder. I wasn't just afraid that Forgets might win the game (which went from Sunday to Saturday), but my Remembers side had to win by ten points. If my side got less than ten more, then we tied, and it counted as a game lost.'
'That sounds like fun! But, doctor, I wish you'd talk to Fred yourself. A word from you might go a long way.'
'I'll try to find a chance to speak with him, but an outsider can't do much. It all rests with Fred himself, and his parents.'