The Truth About Yelling
The Art and Science of Mom
Whenever I see headlines or memes telling us to stop yelling at our children, I want to yell right back.
On Tuesday, I ran across this article in the Washington Post, “How (and why) to stop yelling at your kids.” The advice centers the gentle parenting approach and uses neuroscience to back up the warning that yelling harms our children. It’s a frustrating example of where parenting guidance misses critical nuance, resulting in more parental guilt and shame. (In fact, I wrote an article a couple of years ago all about letting go of shame after yelling — also for the Washington Post!)
The same day this week’s Washington Post article came out, I happened to find myself in what some would call a yelling match with my 9-year-old. He stood at the top of the stairs and I at the bottom. We went back and forth in a loop of our stubborn positions. While I yelled, I thought “we aren’t getting anywhere.” Yet in my completely drained 7:45 pm Tuesday state of mind, I couldn’t stop the loop. My husband entered to tag me out and our family evening moved on.
In the past, I would have beat myself up about it. After all the work I’ve done as a “parenting expert” for the past few years, though, I didn’t feel badly about it. It’s true. Despite dire warnings issued in the most popular media outlets, I didn’t feel guilt or shame. Here’s why.
What Is Yelling?
First, we have to define yelling. Is it the same as using a raised voice because you’ve said the same thing to your kids seven times and they still haven’t answered? Is it about volume, intent, or content? The way yelling is discussed in articles about parenting does not define the behavior in a consistent way. When we study any behavior in behavioral science, we have to start with a solid definition or the results don’t mean much.
For example, this week’s article dissects “The Science of a Scream” but a quick google search shows that screaming is qualitatively different than yelling and is often considered more unhinged and out of control than yelling. In fact, a “scream” is often defined as a way to alert people to danger so by its nature is more alarming. The article then gives a quick overview of neuroscience to punctuate how the “science of the scream” includes fear responses in the child’s brain.
Articles like these often use neuroscience as the indisputable reason to stop all yelling. In this week’s article, the writer warned: “Mom or Dad yelling at a child to take out the trash is far removed from a legitimate concern about the child’s safety if they run into the street or touch a hot stove, but the brain response is potentially the same.” But is it? How can someone say that with confidence? These are the highly theoretical claims, seemingly backed by the heft of neuroscience, that I resent on behalf of all of us parents.
Simply put, the yelling described in these articles does not match the yelling that happens in my family. Nor in most of the families I’ve worked with as a child psychologist over the years.
Why Do We Yell?
It’s true most of the time yelling is not a parenting strategy, but an emotional response. Frustration. Impatience. Overwhelm. I know few parents, if any, who say they yell because it works. So I think we can discard that notion and focus on what’s going on with parents: we are stressed and overwhelmed and feel little structural support. Should our kids bear the brunt of this? Absolutely not. Should we feel guilty when we discharge some emotion in a tough moment? Most of the time, no.
When Is Yelling Okay?
It may sound provocative to claim that yelling at our kids is okay. That’s why I include key parameters:
The content of the yelling has more impact than the volume. Never insult, name-call, demean, or threaten the safety of a child. This qualifies as verbal abuse and is unequivocally harmful, regardless of volume.
Frequency matters. If a parent or child feels like yelling is the regular tone of the house, that is not a home of safety and connection. This is where I feel like parents who go on to share their epiphany about the damage of yelling are probably coming from. If anyone in the family feels like parents are “always yelling,” that needs to be addressed. After a couple weeks of feeling like I was losing it more often than usual, I asked my kids to rate me on the yelling scale from 0-10. After contemplating for a couple minutes, they shocked me with a “2.” This feedback actually helped me relax about it, which meant I yelled less!
Watch your child. How do they look when you yell? If a child appears fearful, there’s a problem. When a child’s fear center (amygdala) becomes activated it fires up the whole fight-or-flight nervous system and this is not how we want our children to feel around us. If your child looks scared, that is a signal to immediately stop. No nuance in that.
But here is the nuance: there is no evidence that occasional yelling typical in many families affects the nervous system like abusive yelling does. Based on my own experience, there IS a difference. I spent years working with abused children and learning the science of childhood abuse. An overactive fear response in the brain builds up with repeated, frightening experiences, not an occasional “get on your shoes NOW” outburst. Not to mention that many parent-child relationships have a foundation of warmth, closeness, and love that far outweighs a yelling episode here or there.
Everyone feels better with less yelling so my opinion is not a free pass to “go forth and yell.” I support using strategies to calm ourselves in heated moments and prevent an outburst we regret. (See my Washington Post article for more strategies.) I work against the tides of pervasive parent guilt, but a little bit can be a good thing when it alerts us that we are acting against our values. A moment of feeling badly can propel us to repair with our child, which is where the relationship magic truly happens.
A Parent’s Childhood
I also recognize that if a parent endured a childhood with toxic yelling, any yelling likely feels dangerous. It can trigger emotional flashbacks from the parent’s own childhood and kick off their body’s fear response. For parents with this history, yelling constitutes a mind-body experience different from those of us without this history. It is tantamount that a parent maintains their own psychological health. If that means the pursuit of no yelling, I support that for that individual parent.
What I argue against is the blanket generalization that any parent who yells is automatically harming their child and must aim to never yell. This broad stroke of advice is not only unnecessary but may have unintended consequences.
No Yelling Utopia?
Let’s take a moment to consider the downsides of the “never yell” utopia.
Yelling can be a moment of authentic emotional expression. It shouldn’t be the only kind of emotional expression of course, but sometimes the act of yelling discharges an emotion (often frustration) so we can move forward. Expressing instead of repressing our emotions is an important ingredient of being healthy parents. As long as we follow the parameters listed above, we don’t need to be ashamed when we have a yelling outburst. In fact, shame makes it more likely we repress, risking more out-of-control yelling when we blow.
Conflict can take many forms, but when it involves yelling at our children (who also may yell back at us), we can use this as a teaching opportunity. You may be familiar with the “rupture and repair” concept which is that after a rupture in a relationship, we repair it. This includes taking ownership of our reaction, connecting our behavior with our emotions, and re-connecting in our relationship with warmth (e.g., a big hug or an inside joke). When we do this with our children, it shows them that having conflict in a close, loving relationship can be part of a healthy relationship instead of the harbinger of a doomed relationship. This sets up our children for healthy adult relationships where they feel comfortable navigating conflict, even when someone yells.
No Hard Feelings
Tuesday night, a couple hours after the frustrating back-and-forth with my son that included both of us raising our voices (some may call it yelling), he and I talked about it. As I put him to bed, I took responsibility and apologized. I said, “I’m sorry we got into that argument. I was feeling . . . “ and then he filled in the blank, “tired!” He knew me well. “Yes, and frustrated that you wanted to change our routine when we are working so hard at a good routine for your sleep. I was worried it wouldn’t work. But you made it work, so thank you.” He nodded in understanding. No hard feelings. No harm done.
What are your thoughts? Drop a comment and let’s discuss!
**You can order my book, Autonomy-Supportive Parenting: Reduce Parental Burnout and Raise Competent, Confident Children, on Amazon and Bookshop.
This is so good & so needed! I first realized my "yelling" parameters were off when my husband pointed out he hadn't been yelling at me. That's when I realized that, for me, based on my childhood experiences, "yelling" encompasses, tone, shame, being told that what one is doing is bad. Because of how I grew up, I'm still working believing this: "having conflict in a close, loving relationship can be part of a healthy relationship instead of the harbinger of a doomed relationship." (I intellectually know it's true, but it goes against every bit of my internal wiring, everything that "feels" true to me). I'll be sharing.
Emily, I'm glad you made the distinction between louder volume vs. harsh and belittling remarks! Nuance is my favorite word.
In my experience (as a clinical psychologist and mom of 4), parents yell when they don't feel heard. When parents yell too often, kids tune them out ("They're always yelling!"), or they learn they don't have to listen until the volume goes up, which further exasperates the parents.
The antidote isn't to insist that parents mush embody zen-like tranquility at all times. That's unrealistic and unfair.
The antidote is probably multi-layered: Make sure the parents aren't exhausted and stressed out. Gather some data about when the yelling happens to figure out a way to prevent the frustrating situation. At a calm moment, get the kid(s) involved in figuring out how to handle the problem. Set up the environment so it's less likely to happen. (Environmental control is easier than self-control!). Help the parents learn ways to communicate more effectively so their kid is more likely to listen. Help parents and kids have compassion for themselves and each other after those inevitable rough spots.
Love means trying again.