A couple of techniques that we utilize routinely at Pathfinders Foundation are Projection and Reflection. Projection is where we anticipate things that we may be likely to be confronted with in the future and mentally rehearse for them, so we are prepared, ahead of time, for how we will react. We actually do this fairly regularly in life, but maybe we were less aware of exactly what we were doing. For example, we teach a new driver what you do when you are in a automobile accident. We are projecting them into that scenario, or a number of possible scenarios, so they are prepared. They need to know to give aid, if necessary, contact the police, whether to move the vehicles off the road, to share insurance and contact information and the like.

However, let’s take this same scenario, the automobile accident, or vender bender. Have you already rehearsed how you are going to react when your child has an accident. Maybe they hit another car on the roadway, bumped another vehicle in a parking lot or scraped their, or your car, down the the crape large crepe myrtle while trying to back into your driveway, leaving a long dent and scratch down the side of your truck. How are you going to react?

First, in no way is this article intended to excuse misconduct of a child, especially reckless and dangerous behavior, which can endanger lives. That falls under a whole different category. Hopefully, you are not having to contend with a teen who is engaging in those kinds of behaviors. Perhaps, some of what I am expressing herein ”may” still apply.

I do think it is important for us, as parents, to anticipate, and decide, ahead of time, how we are going to react, before we even hand over the keys. And, I have a general, overarching principle, that I apply, that has helped me, in these circumstances. Keep in mind, I am only using the auto fender bender as an example. You can use this same principle over and over again, whether it is the repeated spilled bowl of cereal, or something more substantial.

However, back to our example of the fender bender. I have a truck that my family knows that I love very much. I have had this truck for 15 years. I have a lot of memories in this truck. It has safely carried my family on many trips up and down the interstate. I have been run off the road at nearly 80 miles an hour, and it handled just fine. As I white knuckled the steering wheel, trying to carefully slow down and not over control the vehicle, and hoping not to hit anything or a deep hole, my two young sons were in the back seat, laughing, “Daddy, stop goofing around.” Despite these kinds of incidenceS, I have 375,000 miles on her, and without a single fender bender of my own, though I have had close calls. But, when my sons reached an age where I was going to hand them the keys, I already knew that one day, I was likely going to be discussing a fender bender with them. And, I already knew exactly what I was going to say. I obviously hoped it was not going to be a catastrophic accident, and, fortunately, it wasn’t. My son, in fact, did back into the driveway, while the big crepe myrtle gouged a nice dent down the side, of my much-loved Honda Ridgeline, the oldest one in the state of Alabama. When he told me, I was actually a bit excited, because I had waited so long to share my words with him. I said, “Son, you know how much I love that truck, but I love you infinitely more than I could ever love that truck.” Now, the dent in the truck is not a reminder of a bad thing that happened, but a reminder of something good, a building moment, a growing moment, a moment when a son had to face the trepidation of telling how he damaged the family vehicle, and a moment in which I got to be a good example (I hope) for how to respond to these kinds of little spills in life.