It's sadly always so shocking to me when I happen to observe white parents in the act of parenting.
They treat their kids (even little ones who are 5 or younger) like adults. The way they listen and ask clarifying questions. The way they talk in a calm tone and explain something with the assumption that the child is mature enough to understand what's being said. The way they keep their cool.
Contrast this to the typical scene you would see with parents from my culture (Armenians). The parents usually have an annoyed and impatient tone. They are treating the child like a literal child and assuming they are too immature to grasp anything meaningful. They are often times raising their voice at the very beginning of the interaction with the child. Overall, it's a sad and disappointing scene. Even if the child in question is older (teenager), the interaction looks the same. If this is how bad it looks in public, i can't imagine how much worse it is behind closed doors.
Im not a parent and I don't know if i ever will be at this point. But looking at these 2 approaches, i can't help but notice how shitty the Armenian one is.
I get it's counterproductive to blame others for how you end up. It can put you on a bitter path very quickly. But at times like these, i can't help but imagine how i might have been different if I were raised by more "Westernized" parents.
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Hark Triton, hark! Bellow, bid our father the Sea King rise from the depths full foul in his fury! Black waves teeming with salt foam to smother this young mouth with pungent slime, to choke ye, engorging your organs til' ye turn blue and bloated with bilge and brine and can scream no more - only when he, crowned in cockle shells with slitherin' tentacle tail and steaming beard take up his fell be-finned arm, his coral-tine trident screeches banshee-like in the tempest and plunges right through yer gullet, bursting ye - a bulging bladder no more, but a blasted bloody film now and nothing for the harpies and the souls of dead sailors to peck and claw and feed upon only to be lapped up and swallowed by the infinite waters of the Dread Emperor himself - forgotten to any man, to any time, forgotten to any god or devil, forgotten even to the sea, for any stuff for part of Winslow, even any scantling of your soul is Winslow no more, but is now itself the sea!