Share

My child cannot accept help

Time: 6 min

My child cannot accept help

Parents and children often clash when learning together. Our columnist Stefanie Rietzler knows that arguments can be avoided if mums and dads ask more questions.
Text: Stefanie Rietzler

Illustration: Petra Dufkova / The illustrators

Ella is furious. «You're explaining it wrong!» the 10-year-old shouts at her mum. The fourth-grader fights back tears, her mum struggles to control herself: «First you want my help and then nothing is right for you!» Some children find it difficult to accept support. As long as they can manage on their own in one area, it's not a problem.

Things get complicated when a child with a learning disability stops listening when the teacher or remedial teacher wants to explain something to them, or - as in Ella's case - a child with maths difficulties gets stuck doing their homework on their own and asks for help, but then doesn't know what to do with it. In the end, the house is a mess and everyone is frustrated.

But why is it so difficult for some children to get help - and how do we get through to them in this situation?

Ella's mother knows how stressful maths problems are for her daughter and wants to support her as much as possible. She therefore goes to great lengths to explain to her daughter how to solve written subtraction calculations with several numbers. She shows Ella tricks, tries to explain to her how such problems were solved in her own school days and uses illustrations.

«You're making a mess of my head!»

The problem is that the mum talks a lot and quickly - and gets impatient when Ella can't understand the solutions, repeats her mother's sentences «minus seven, minus seven» with an empty head and then seems to guess something.

We can understand Ella better if we put ourselves in a similar situation. Perhaps we think of how an experienced computer crack introduces us to the new programme at work, flits across the screen with the mouse pointer, clicks and types wildly and explains something at the same time. Soon we are completely confused and are just waiting for the explanations to finish, perhaps even thinking: «That's no use to me, I'll have to look at it again myself anyway.»

The more we put the child in the role of expert, the more actively it thinks along with us.

In such cases, it helps if we stick to two principles:

  • 1. say less, ask more.
  • 2. understand the school's solutions together with the child instead of confusing them with additional variants.

The more we put children in the role of experts and let them explain to us, for example, how the teacher proceeded with simpler examples in the exercise book and what she showed and told them, the more actively the child thinks along with us. As a parent, you can take on the role of a curious co-learner by asking questions, retracing the solutions in the child's exercise book and book («I see, is that how you went about it?») and helping the child to recognise connections («That would be similar to this, wouldn't it?»). We can also openly tell the child that we learnt this or that differently in our own school days - and are now curious to see how it is taught today.

We will feel insecure about some school content ourselves, that's normal. Then it is better to cancel the homework and ask the child to be shown the procedure at school again instead of confusing them and letting the situation end in tears.

Several years ago, I was invited to a round table discussion with a thirteen-year-old client. In addition to the teenager and her parents, the teacher, the head teacher, the remedial teacher and the psychotherapist were also present. The girl's father looked round the table and said: «You see, it's so bad for you that all these people have to be here now.»

«When you help me, I feel small and weak!»

Even without such a statement, many children and young people see offers of help as a sign that they cannot do on their own what is expected of others their age. They feel «embarrassed» when the remedial teacher has to explain something to them separately, and they feel insulted when they are offered simpler tasks.

They are often ridiculed in class because of this. It is important for these children that they don't always have to be on the receiving end of help, but are also in a strong position from time to time, in which they have something over others, can offer help and shine with their strengths.

Help is often rejected because it does not match what the child needs.

Perhaps this pupil has a strong subject and can offer help to others during self-organised learning? Perhaps the child is artistically gifted and takes on the task of designing a class emblem or banner for the next camp? Perhaps they are fired up when they can demonstrate the exercises in PE lessons and «coach» their classmates? Or does it feel empowered when it is allowed to design a lesson on its special topic or take over the organisation of the class party?

«Help yes, but not like this!»

Help is also often resisted because it does not match what the child needs. Children with a strong need for autonomy, for example, quickly feel restricted if their parents intervene to help them. These children want to do everything themselves because only then can they really enjoy their successes. When in doubt, it is often better for parents to exercise restraint and patience.

The problem often also lies in the way feedback is given: While some children appreciate direct and clear feedback, others quickly feel attacked and devalued when they are told where they have made mistakes and what they should improve on. They are downright allergic to small, casual comments such as «No!», «Wrong!», «Give me that, you have to do it like that».

Our short film «Der Bär kann es nicht» (The bear can't do it) picks up on the problem addressed in this column and shows primary school pupils how they can face obstacles to learning with a fighting heart.

If you have the impression that your child often «shuts down» when you try to help them, then it's worth addressing this in a quiet moment: «I have the feeling that the way I help you with ... is stressing you out. What could I do to make it easier for you to accept my help?»

A father, whose son was supposed to practise for ten minutes a day due to a reading disability, asked the boy after several frustrating attempts that had ended in arguments: «Tell me, what mark would you give me for my reading? ... What?! That bad? What would I have to do to get a better grade? ... Ah, praise more and stop being so annoyed at the mistakes. I'll try that out tomorrow.»

This text was originally published in German and was automatically translated using artificial intelligence. Please let us know if the text is incorrect or misleading: feedback@fritzundfraenzi.ch