by James Burns | Oct 28, 2018 | James Burns, Parents, Teachers, The Bully Proof Classroom, The Ramblings of a Dinosaur
Going to a Catholic grammar school for nine years had its benefits. We had to wear uniforms so there wasn’t any clothes competition. We went to church all the time so we got some formal spiritual training. You couldn’t even think of using profanity because you thought the nuns could read your mind and would find out what you were thinking. We learned good penmanship. We were respectful, compliant, and responsible.
The crazy thing is no one gave me a choice in any of these areas I was forced to do them. It wasn’t like the nun said to me you can go to church if you like, or why don’t you try to hold your pencil this way, or is that the way to speak to someone? If I didn’t do it the way it was supposed to be done, my blood stains would be on the floor.
As I look back at this experience, the one thing that I realize is that this type of education taught me something that no one talks about today and that’s self-control. The majority of the problems that a person faces in their life are related to a lack of self-control. Everybody either eats too much, drinks too much, spends too much, can’t control their temper, lusts after things that they can’t have like someone else’s spouse, and develops habits that they can’t break that could kill them or someone else like smoking or driving too fast. Now why does all this happen? Well, I never remember my parents or any teacher in my life saying to me the choice is yours: You can smoke or not. You can lose your temper or not. You can overeat or not.
Self-control is taught. If I did something that exhibited a lack of self-control, I got grabbed by someone and got reamed out or in the worst case scenario got clobbered. I was taught to wait on line, raise my hand, take my time, practice until I got it right, memorize, and I got drilled on skills that every-one knew were necessary for life long success. Look, musicians practice endless hours to perform a single piece of music. Students study instead of watch TV. Athletes devote years of their lives to prepare for an Olympic event that may last only a few minutes.
The concepts of self-control, delayed gratification and discipline seem so counter to our cultural values. We use our credit cards because we want things right away. We become impatient if we wait more than a few moments at a drive-through at McDonald’s. We eat ourselves into obesity and poor health because it feels good, with little consideration of the long-term consequences. Self-control should be graded in school and looked at as a quality necessary for success as an adult. If you or someone you know is having trouble with self-control I have a good friend named Sister Houlihan who still thinks self-control is important. She is 4 feet 8 inches tall and she can still make a grown man hold his pencil the right way!
[ecwid_product id=”117250099″ display=”picture title price options addtobag” version=”2″ show_border=”1″ show_price_on_button=”1″ center_align=”1″]
by James Burns | Oct 13, 2018 | Baby Boomers, Behavior Management, James Burns, Parents, The Bully Proof Classroom
I never wanted to go to college, never thought I was smart enough. My father had different plans for me. He told me I was going. I wanted to take over the family business which was a bar. I mean after all in my senior year in high school
I was taking classes like Chinese Literature and wood shop. I don’t think I took one college level class in high school so how would any college accept me. I made a deal with my father I would apply to three colleges and if any one of them accepted me, I would go. I applied to a junior college, a state school, and to some school in the back woods of Virginia. They all accepted me. I went to the state school.
I think I mentioned this but I’ll say it again my first semester in college I had a 1.0 cumulative average. That’s a D. I got a letter from the college telling me to shape up or I was going to be asked to leave. I showed the letter to my father and said to him “See I told you I couldn’t do it.” He looked at me and said “You better do it because I am selling the bar.” I ended up graduating from college with much help from professors. My cumulative average: 2.9. If you do the math you will find out that is just about all straight A’s.
What motivated me you might ask? FEAR with a capital F. I had to do it. There was no safety net. Yes, I was afraid, scared, and a lot of other things but you know what…I did it. I once worked with a great psychiatrist and he made the most unbelievable statement to me you could ever imagine. He said to me “Jim, before a kid can be really disciplined, you have to have fear.”
Not a fear of physical punishment but a fear of disappointing someone, or even a fear of a strong reaction. I think the word that has gotten lost today is respect. I will usually respect what I fear. Do kids today have a healthy fear of adults? Do they respect adults or better yet one another? Kids today believe they can say and do what they want, when they want. It is time to begin to instill a healthy fear again into our kids and make them shutter at the idea that they might disappoint someone. I am really sick of the “I don’t care attitude.” If it wasn’t for fear, I wouldn’t be writing this essay right now.
by James Burns | Oct 12, 2018 | Baby Boomers, Behavior Management, Bully Proof Classroom, James Burns, Parents, The Bully Proof Classroom, The Ramblings of a Dinosaur
Have you ever wondered why your parents did some of the things that they did. I did lots of times. My dad had so many regimented activities that I thought he had a screw lose or something. I’m only going to talk about two here because there are too many to put into one essay.
I really spent time observing my dad as a kid and listening to him. It wasn’t until I was about forty that I realized some of the benefits of his behavior and, very recently, some of the real benefits of his behavior. My dad had an unbelievable fear of getting a cold. He came home from WWII with malaria and tuberculosis. He was always cautious of sharing food, towels, cups, and silverware. Any watermark on silverware in a restaurant was sent back immediately.
I remember one time in a restaurant in New York a fork went back three times. Some people send food back. He sent the silverware back. It got so bad that one guy sitting close to use told my dad that the he thought that the waitress was on Candid Camera.
If you sneezed you were accused of trying to bring a cold into the house, to try and kill him. He was hospitalized on December 27, 1967 due to a re-occurrence of the TB and was sent to the infirmary at the veteran’s hospital in East Orange NJ for 3 months. When he was released from the hospital anything and everything could give him a cold.
Two things were absolutes, cold feet and white flour. I never saw my father walk around without shoes or slippers on. He wouldn’t walk three feet without putting on a pair of slippers. If you sneezed, he would always ask you what you ate. My sister, my mother, and I thought he was crazy. Bare feet and white flour would make you sick and if you got sick, well as he put it, “If I get a cold I am finished.”
All of these things I observed always stuck with me. When I was about 40 years old I started to battle my weight. Always watching my calories and trying to stay in shape. The Atkins diet started to become very popular along with other diets that restricted carbohydrates, and other foods that contained you guessed it, white flour. Exactly what the old boy was talking about 30 years ago. Suddenly everyone had a carbohydrate allergy, was gaining weight, had type-two diabetes, high blood pressure, and all kinds of health issues because of white flour. I started to watch my white flour intake and I started to lose weight. The stuff I loved as a kid was something that could kill me. The stuff that my father said could make me sick was making me sick.
Recently I was walking around the backyard wearing a pair of three dollar flip flops. I have a tendency to drag my feet when I walk primarily because my feet are kind of flat, something my dad had also. I walked from the shed to the concrete walkway and slammed my right foot into an Adirondack chair. I know I broke the middle toe. At least it looked broken.
The next day passing through the garage I stubbed the same toe on a hand weight in the middle of the floor. I got into the car in agony, looked down at my foot which had the same three dollar flip-flop on it and I could hear my father say to me, “Will you please put your slippers on.”
This isn’t the first time I stubbed that toe but it is the first time it dawned on me that my father knew me because I was just like him. He didn’t want me to go through the same agonies that he had gone through. He didn’t want me to get fat or stub my toes. Unfortunately, he just had a strange way of letting me know. I don’t think he ever gave me the reason why he did what he did. That’s probably why it took me thirty years to figure it out on my own. If I could ask for something I would ask that my two daughters learn the reasons why I do what I do quicker than I learned things from my father. There’s a question that kids ask all the time “Why do we have to do this?” Sometimes by the time that gets figured out, it’s too late. So put your slippers on and have a piece of whole wheat toast, you’ll be glad you did.
Visit: https://www.bullyproofclassroom.com/store
by James Burns | Oct 11, 2018 | James Burns, Parents, The Bully Proof Classroom, The Ramblings of a Dinosaur
Wounds Can Be Healed With The Right Words and Actions
As a young boy I experienced all kinds of problems in my family. My father was a bar owner and a binge drinker. His behavior was very unpredictable at times, and we never knew what was going to set him off. We were always walking around on egg shells because we didn’t want to say or do something that would send him off on a drinking binge.
I knew though that my father had a real interest in me, and wanted the very best for me. He just had a hard time expressing how he felt. As I became older and entered my teenage years my dad started to enjoy watching me play high school and community league baseball. He would go to my games, leave alone when the game was over (as I went with my friends), and would usually say very little to me about my performance. I never really expected him to say anything, so I was never disappointed.
During the summer of 1971, I was 16 years old. My first cousin, Jim, and I spent a lot of time together at each other’s houses. We played baseball and hung out with other kids. I enjoyed the visits and so did he. He was an only child and I was the only boy in my family. We had a lot in common, and during this time, we were pretty good friends. My cousin wasn’t quite as good at baseball as I was but he was what I call a rooter. He enjoyed watching baseball and really enjoyed watching me play.
During one of his visits, I had a scheduled game. I had to be at the game early so my dad and cousin came later. During the game I had three hits including the game winning hit. I was the catcher and threw three runners out trying to steal second base. I had a great game. When the game was over my dad drove my cousin back to his house, and I hung out with my friends.
I went home, went to bed, got up early the next morning and left the house. The normal routine was that my mother would open the bar in the morning. My father would sleep a little later and then relieve her in the bar around 11:00 in the morning. He would work until about 4:00 in the afternoon and then come upstairs and take a nap. I can always remember him sitting in his recliner napping in the afternoon. He needed that nap; he was in his late 50’s and had to be ready to work the night shift.
That afternoon, I returned home around 5:00 to find my father in his recliner, but he was awake. He jumped up out of his chair like he had a spring under him. He ran over to me and hugged me hard and said, “I was so proud of you last night.” I thanked him, and I felt him squeeze me like he never did before. I felt the warmth of his body, but even more felt the warmth of his words.
I’m in my 60’s now and I still remember that hug and those words. Some-times parents can say so much to their kids about their performance that it can almost seem like white noise. Most kids know their parents are going to speak well of them because they are their parents. But sometimes kids can get a false sense of their abilities when their parents go overboard with the praise. But, the right words of praise and encouragement at the right time can actually change a child’s life. In my case, my dad didn’t offer a lot of praise. As a matter of fact he was very critical of me at times.
This experience was life-changing for me. I quickly forgot all the times my father had said critical things to me. As a father myself, I know I have the power to determine how my own children view themselves. A father’s words do truly make a difference.
by James Burns | Oct 8, 2018 | James Burns, Parents, Relationships, Respect, Responsibility, The Bully Proof Classroom, The Ramblings of a Dinosaur
SECTION ONE
THOUGHTS ON THE FAMILY
BEFORE YOU SIT DOWN AT THE “FAMILY TABLE” YOU BETTER TAKE A LOOK AT YOUR FAMILY TREE
It never ceases to amaze me how we can believe that an actor/actress on a commercial is really the character he or she portrayed on a sitcom. Watching T.V. the other night, Roseanne Barr was doing a commercial on Nick@Nite talking about the importance of having dinner at the “family table.” So the commercial flashed back to her and John Goodman on a Roseanne episode sitting at the dinner table engaged in an argument which was supposed to be funny to the viewer. The point of the commercial was that it doesn’t matter what goes on at the family table as long as you have one.
As a kid, we had a family table. It was a war zone. I’m sure that many people can relate to my family table, and I am sick of calling it that, too. (What is this new term –family table- anyway?) In my house, the family table was more like the family zoo. It didn’t really dawn on me how crazy it was until my sister started dating, and she would bring one of her boyfriends home for dinner. The poor guy would sit there and watch as my father cooled a baked potato. You know, the way everyone does it. Take the potato out of the skin with a fork and hold it about two feet in the air for about 15 seconds and stare at the steam. Then wave it up and down like a magic wand 4 or 5 times until you think it is cool. We all knew it was still hot. He would start to eat it, and then he would leave his mouth half open while he sucked air in to try to cool it.
You see, my father was a short order cook when he was younger, and he was also a mess sergeant in the army. I guess he thought that made him some sort of chef. He always complained about my mother’s cooking. She wasn’t very open to his comments either which led to the battle lines being drawn between the two of them.
My dad also watched his diet; his dinners consisted of a small piece of protein, a vegetable, a potato, and a slice of bread. My mother consistently made those meals for him every night for dinner. But she always fed my two sisters and me the good stuff; you know, all starch and no protein. That really got to him. The question he always asked was, “Why are you feeding them that?”
I tell you, he was purely disgusted by the meals we ate. My father didn’t want me to get fat, but I did. I never knew when he was going to make another negative comment about my diet. One night I ate about a pound of macaroni and meat sauce and a loaf of Italian bread for dinner while he had his standard sparse dinner. He didn’t say one word to me about what I was eating; he just watched. It was almost fun eating dinner with him. I was surprised, but very relieved that he had let me eat my delicious dinner in peace without making one negative comment about my unhealthy dinner.
About two hours later I sneezed. I said, “I think I’m getting a cold.” That was a mistake. He couldn’t wait to jump on that. He said, “Well, that stuff you ate for dinner tonight, you could catch anything from that, and you gobbled it up like dog food.” My father, the general, won that battle after all. He got me.
There were many little idiosyncrasies he had. One day he picked up the butter dish at the dinner table and he found a hair in it. A riot nearly broke out. He walked away from the dinner table thinking that it might be a pubic hair. He wore dentures that were out of his mouth every waking minute that he wasn’t eating or working. They usually fell out of his mouth when he started to yell. That’s when he would rip them out of his mouth so he could finish his tirade. Before he came to the table his teeth had to be brushed, cleaned, and rinsed for about 10 minutes. My mother would call him to dinner really early so he would have time to get his dentures polished up. She knew he hated cold food and didn’t want to listen to him complain.
One night he was going through his denture ritual spit shining his teeth for an unusually long time. My mother must have called him to the table for 20 minutes. He finally sat down, took three bites of food, and looked at me and said, “Cold.”
My mother went nuts because she had done everything humanly possible to get him to the table while the food was still hot. He proceeded to laugh at her outburst which predictably ended in another battle. This time, the general had the land mine perfectly placed and she stepped on it.
Diet was always on my father’s mind. One evening, my sister was leaving for a friend’s house at the dinner hour. My father said to her, “Aren’t you going to eat dinner with us?” She said, “No, I ’m eating at Carol’s house.” He said, “Oh you are.” After she left he looked at me and said, “She’ll eat those greasy foods over there and have fat legs like Carol.” Lucky for her! She got out before the general decided to open fire.
My oldest sister left home and moved to New York when she was 21 years old. I just can’t imagine why. She would come back to visit once a month or so. My sister had the ability to eat fast, and I mean really fast, like she was going to the electric chair. My father, on the other hand, was the slowest eater on the planet. She would be finishing eating and he would just be getting started. When she was done eating she got up and started to clear the table and do the dishes. In a small kitchen the strong smell of Lux Liquid started to become really noticeable. Not to mention my sister’s soapy hands clearing the table were leaving soap suds behind – you guessed it – on my father’s food. War, this meant war. My sister didn’t have a chance to surrender and throw up the white flag. She was blown right out of the house and back to Brooklyn Heights.
The Family Table is a popular new term that is supposed to mean that dinner time is where families should be talking, and building strong relation-ships. This is a good idea. But in my case because of my father’s personality and food related phobias, our “family table” was not the place this could happen. Remember, you don’t need the family table to talk to your kids. You can talk to your kids in the family car. I love spending time with my own kids. I don’t have to be at a dinner table. We’re all too fat anyway. Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s great that we have dinner together and chat and enjoy each other’s company, but not because Roseanne says I should, but because it is something that’s fun.
Society always tries to hook some gimmick to things that occurred years ago in a very natural way. In my case my father had more conversations with me in the car than he did at the dinner table. We always went on long car rides and having conversation was a very natural thing to do. I have more conversations with my kids in the car and while we are working on projects than I do at the dinner table. Try talking to your kids without food in your mouth.They might hear what you’re saying a little better.
by James Burns | Jun 5, 2018 | Anti Bullying Coaching and Resources, Education, James Burns, Parents, The Bully Proof Classroom
Parent Education and Coaching
Parent Education and Coaching is designed to educate parents in order to help them manage their child’s behaviors in the home that are impacting the family dynamic. This disruption can lead to school related behaviors that require the child to be disciplined in school causing greater stress, lack of patience, frustration, and at times can result in the parenting disciplining the child in anger.
The goal is to provide the skills and strategies to the parent to help deal with their child and his/her behavior as part of an educational process and then provide coaching along the way to help the parent build confidence in the discipline process and their parenting skills.
This is not therapy, it is education provided by a trained teacher, administrator, college instructor and who is a parent himself. Any recommendations made are done so with the best interest of the child and parent in mind and are designed to provide permanent help not temporary relief. Change is a step of faith and the process is not an overnight one but one that helps restore order and points both the child and parent in the direction of lifelong success and a stronger parent child relationship.
Some Behaviors That Are Addressed
- Disrespect
- Irresponsibility
- Non-Compliance
- Bullying
- Victimization as a Result of Bullying
- Lack of Motivation
- Anger Issues
- Disaffected Behavior
This program is designed to educate parents and works exclusively with the parent. If the child is experiencing clinical issues such as depression, anxiety, or appears to be affected by events within the family a trained therapist should be used to address these issues. We will work with the therapist upon the parent’s request.
What is Provided
(6) Six face to face meetings per year with the parent’s and their child
(4) Four webinars per month addressing some of the behaviors listed above or specific behaviors as explained by the parent. These webinars will be one hour in length.
(4) Four emails per month initiated by the parent that provide specific behaviors that require specific answers regarding their child as geographically possible.
(2) Two scheduled telephone conversation per month of 30 minutes or less that address a specific problem that is occurring.
Cost
The cost for the services listed above is $300 dollars per month payable via paypal. Payments would be due on the first of every month.
Any additions to the above services would result in an hourly fee of $50 dollars per hour or any part thereof.
Initial Consultation is Free
James H Burns MA, DHL
For more information call: 732.773.9855 or,
Email: jameshburns55@gmail.com
