As a kid, I used to love debate. Loved to watch it, listen to it and, from time to time, engage in it. The intellectual challenge was stimulating. Beyond that, it was fascinating to listen to people who have completely different experiences and perspectives describe an identical incident in radically different ways. Similarly, as a reader I loved words. Their tone, cadence, how they fit together to form thoughts. How thoughts could be woven to paint a mental picture. How pictures could be made dark or light by the choice of descriptive words. All of it was endlessly interesting.

Perhaps this is why I am deeply saddened at this lost art. As the years unfolded, debates morphed into disagreements and disagreements into Defcon 3 attacks. All this at a time when I began noticing our collective skin got increasingly thinner, our ability to accept differences evaporated like morning mist, and open hands clenched to angry fists.

None of this happened quickly, of course. But as it did, our confidence eroded, and doubt set in. Self-doubt initially, as is the human way. Am I right? Wrong? Not ready to understand? Not willing to understand?

As children, we can only know what we are taught by the adults who surround us: parents, guardians, teachers, coaches, ministers or officers of some sort. Decades ago, I came across a bit of wisdom that has been taped to my refrigerator ever since. Though yellowed to near indecipherability, it still holds powerful truth.

Children Learn What They Live

If a child lives with criticism, He learns to condemn.
If a child lives with hostility, He learns to fight.
If a child lives with ridicule, He learns to be shy.
If a child lives with shame, He learns to feel guilty.
If a child lives with tolerance, He learns to be patient.
If a child lives with encouragement, He learns confidence.
If a child lives with praise, He learns to appreciate.
If a child lives with fairness, He learns justice.
If a child lives with security, He learns to have faith.
If a child lives with approval, He learns to like himself.
If a child lives with acceptance and friendship,
He learns to find love in the world.

Copyright 1963.

The poem was written by Dorothy Law Nolte and presented with baby formulas and vitamins by Ross Laboratories.

I was eight years old when this was written. I don’t remember how it came into my possession, but I have read it often and cherished it for many years.

At the time it was written and for a long time afterwards, “he” was used generically to include all humans. No one slammed the writer for being sexist. The poem also represents an ideal world, where people know these behaviors and the attributes they create. That has never been entirely true, and it is even less true today.

Nonetheless, it is worth considering not only for parents raising children, but for all of us as we interact with others. It is also useful in this age of introspection and self-judgment to accept that some of the things we wish were different about our personalities or personal quirks grew up in some environment to which we responded.

We learned what we lived. We can adapt to be what we imagine.