Self-test: Needs-orientated listening and talking
«You'll be back by six, right?» I say to the seven-year-old before he jumps on his bike. «Yeah-ha, sure!» The front door has almost slammed shut when the child remembers: «Mum, where am I going to live when I grow up?» «What?» I ask, puzzled, already thinking through the catalogue of questions for the phone call we're due to make in three minutes. «Where I'll live then,» he follows up. My head is buzzing. What does the child want? And where is the mobile phone that I'm about to need? «We'll discuss it tonight,» I'm tempted to tell my son off.
This reminds me of my self-experiment. I want to try out the communication techniques of psychotherapist Ulrike Döpfner over several weeks. «Needs-orientated listening and talking» is the principle. I want to put an end to my children's monosyllabic answers when they come home from school and I interrogate them on key points.
Open questions, astonishing effect
The solution? Encourage open conversations, plan time for undivided attention. So that the ten-year-old no longer complains: «Now listen to me properly, Mum!» Instead, I am now actively involved, summarise what she has said and report back how I understand the message - without adding judgements or advice. The child should feel understood. This is the only way for parents to find out what really matters to their children, says Döpfner.
This actually works well in practice. My open questions have an amazing effect. Even the otherwise not so talkative seven-year-old starts to talk when I suddenly say: What made you think today? Who was nice to you? Who did you have the most fun with? However, I have to pull myself together extremely well to avoid falling back into old patterns. It's too tempting to ask questions in a targeted and fact-based way when everyday life is overlaid with so much organisation. What's more, I also have to talk about my working day so that the whole thing doesn't take on the character of an interrogation again. Who the hell did I have the most fun with today?
Who the hell did I have the most fun with today?
I consciously try to make time for focussed one-to-one conversations in the evening before going to bed. Typically, this is when the children's need to talk is particularly high, but my receptiveness is unfortunately particularly low. But because the timetables don't harmonise, I get to enjoy one-to-one lunch dates twice a week - once with my daughter and once with my son. Which proves to be a great gift. I don't usually get so many exciting insights into the minds of my children throughout the year.
The catalogue of 100 questions at the end of Döpfner's book is the most fun for children and parents alike. They are designed to stimulate conversations between the generations in order to learn more about each other. We try it out on a warm summer evening, at a picnic in the garden. The youngest asks the first question: «What would your dream house look like?» The older one immediately talks about a house right by the sea, «the bedroom would be the most important thing, it would have to be cosy for reading». Her brother raves about a gigantic palace with lots of rooms, a huge screen and a football stadium - «I'd live there like a king and have people working for me». (Is that my child bubbling like that?) The husband, like the daughter, is drawn to a house by the sea «with a fireplace room». (What do you want with a fireside lounge?) And I also see myself by the water - in a small house, equipped with the bare essentials. («Why small when you can choose?» wonders the son.)
Learn what we didn't know
We discuss many things that evening. Whether we would rather be a dolphin or a shark. (Everyone agrees on a dolphin.) Whether it's better to be the older or the younger sibling. («The younger one,» both children think, «they get to do everything earlier and don't get teased as much.») We spin around together, colouring in. It turns out that conversations with the children are particularly exciting when we learn something about them that we didn't know. When we talk about things that have no place in everyday life. The evening is probably also so successful because everyone has time and gets involved without a to-do list. I have to admit that everything depends on the attitude of the parents. If we are open and don't allow ourselves to be overwhelmed by the demands of everyday life, communication works brilliantly.
In stressful moments, however, the old patterns and interrogation tactics kick in again. At best, the husband and I then warn each other by rolling our eyes. Very often, the good intentions disappear in the everyday noise. Just like that afternoon when Junior suddenly asks: «Where am I going to live when I grow up?» But this time I suppress the impulse to put him off until later and answer instead: «Where do you think?» «Maybe somewhere where it's always warm,» says the child. «Or maybe somewhere with you. Bye-bye!» And it's gone. Time required: 20 seconds. Is active listening ultimately not a question of time? It's like a foreign language that needs to be practised: at the beginning you think about every phrase, but at some point it flows naturally.
Read more about communication in the family:
- Gespräch statt Verhör: Wie rede ich mit meinem Kind?
Die Kinder- und Jugendpsychotherapeutin Ulrike Döpfner ist überzeugt, dass sich über Sprache Nähe schaffen lässt und Eltern ihre Kinder besser kennenlernen können. Die Buchautorin sagt, warum Kinder oft knapp antworten, wenn man sie nach der Schule oder ihrem Befinden fragt, und weshalb wir mit Söhnen mehr über Gefühle reden sollten.
- Zum einen Ohr rein und zum anderen wieder raus?
Plötzlich schreit jemand, und Türen werden geknallt. Kommunikation in der Familie ist eine knifflige Sache, zumal Kinder manchmal auf Durchzug schalten. Fünf Beispiele aus dem Alltag – und wie man es besser machen kann.
- Schluss mit starren Rollen – zuhören!
Viele Eltern flüchten sich gegenüber ihren Kindern in Schauspielerei, weil sie Angst haben, die Führung zu verlieren. Dabei würden ihnen Empathie und ein echter Dialog auch helfen, Grenzen zu setzen.