As far back as Father Knows Best,
television has been an unintentional teaching aid for parents. To watch
Mike and Carol Brady labor tirelessly to boost Jan's wobbly
self-esteem, or Cliff and Clair Huxtable corral Denise's rebellious
impulses with affection and wisdom, was to learn how to raise happy,
healthy children. After all those hours in front of the set, you
couldn't help but absorb the lessons.
Today's network lineup provides fewer idealized families and no
shortage of questionable child-rearing role models (see "Gosselin,
Jon"). For every take-charge SuperNanny, there's a Homer Simpson, and
who wants to raise a Bart?
It's little wonder, then, that some parents, and even a few child
therapists, have found themselves taking mental notes from a television
personality known for inspiring discipline, order and devotion: Cesar
Millan, otherwise known as the Dog Whisperer.
The suggestion that the Dog Whisperer is also a Child Whisperer of
sorts has popped up — sometimes couched as a joke, but, well, not
really — in parents' forums like blogs, online discussion boards,
magazines, Twitter feeds and podcasts. Some parents are starting to
take notice.
"When we started watching his shows, we had intended to apply his
advice toward our dogs," said Amy Twomey, a blogger on parenthood for The Dallas Morning News who is raising three children under 10 with her husband, Matt. "But we realized a lot of ideas can be used on our kids."
Millan's advice has replaced a shelf full of books on how to tame an
unruly child. "It's all the same simple concept: how to be the pack
leader in your own house," she said.
Certainly, an army, or at least a few divisions, of credentialed
experts on human parenthood long ago stumbled on Millan's philosophical
holy trinity — exercise, discipline and affection equals happiness. And
Millan does not hold himself up as a new Dr. Spock; he has never opined
on how one should raise a creature with two legs in his show on the
National Geographic Channel, or in his four books.
But some parents — particularly those weary of never-say-no techniques
and child-rearing books suggesting that children should call the shots
— say they find inspiration, and even practical advice, in Millan's
approach, which teaches pet owners how to become the alpha dogs by
projecting his trademark "calm-assertive energy."
DaddyCast, a series of podcasts published online by a father of two who
identifies himself only as P.D., devoted an episode last year to
discussing how he applied Dog Whisperer philosophies to raising
children. In the episode, he recalled exchanging Twitter messages with
a father who wrote: "Pampering and never punishing will make a child
crazy and unlikable, never self-competent."
"That goes along with the philosophy of the Dog Whisperer," the host
added. Brenna Hicks, a child therapist in Palm Harbor, who writes an
advice blog, The Kid Counselor, adapted Millan's central idea, that
dogs take their cues from their masters, and misbehave only when the
masters fail to carry themselves, in body language and tone of voice,
like pack leaders. In a post, "Raising Kids: Wisdom From the Dog
Whisperer," she wrote, "When we present nervous, angry or scared energy
in front of our kids, they pick up on those emotions."
Allison Pearson, author of the novel I Don't Know How She Does It,
which explored the stresses of modern motherhood, explained how parents
would naturally envy the authority of dog trainers. "My generation got
itself in a muddle about parenting," she wrote by e-mail. "We thought
that obedience was the enemy of love. We didn't want the kids to be
afraid of us, but after a while we found ourselves wondering: do we
have to do what they say the whole time?"
"Unlike modern parents," she added, "dog trainers don't think
discipline equals being mean. They understand that dogs are happiest
when they know their position in the hierarchy."
So is it "spare the rolled-up newspaper, spoil the child?" Not exactly.
Many Dog Whisperer techniques — say, the push on the neck to get a
dog's attention — are best left to the kennel, unless you welcome a
visit from Child Protective Services.
But other measures may yield an obedient child. Matthew Hranek, a
photographer in New York, has a daughter, Clara, who is 6, and a
Patterdale terrier, Charlie, who is a handful. Lately, Hranek said, he
finds himself adopting Millan's trademark "sshht!" sound — meant to
snap dogs out of unconstructive patterns of thought or behavior — not
just when Charlie jumps up on the kitchen counter, but also when Clara
does. A bit of a joke? Sure. But it's efficient. With none of the usual
red-in-the-face parental haranguing, it reminds her who is boss in a
syllable.
Hranek said that some parents he knows "do not allow the word `no' to be said around the house. How absurd is that?"
"When you're wishy-washy with dogs, they take advantage — `He didn't
mean don't eat that biscuit,"' Hranek said. "Kids think the same way."
In that spirit, Jenny Hope, a television producer in Los Angeles, not
connected to the Millan show, applies Dog Whisperer lessons not just to
the family dog, Heidi, but also to her son, Rowan, 3. On the show, she
said, Millan lets the dogs know that he decides when they can run off
to sniff a juniper bush, and when to heel.
When Hope's husband, Simon Cote, recently installed a sprinkler system
in the backyard, Rowan wanted to play in the mud. She relented. Fun is
crucial, after all. But so is an end to the fun. She let him make his
resplendent mess, then brought him in after a set period of time.
"It's finite, and it's what they crave," Hope explained. "Children love structure, the same as animals love structure."
Millan says parents question him all the time. "I'm going to give them my point of view — I'm a father myself," he said.
As a native of Mexico, he said, he adheres to a more traditional,
hierarchical child-rearing philosophy, which he considers effective in
both the pack and the family. There, "for thousands of years, the elder
has always been the pack leader, it's never the child," Millan said.
"In America, kids have too many options when they only need one: `Just
do it, because."'
To some parents, however, moving Dog Whisperer theories into the human
realm is not so much about changing their child's attitude as it is
about changing their own.
Take Elizabeth Meyer, in Columbus Township, Mich. She and her husband
adopted a strong-willed 2-year-old boy from South Korea last year.
"Given that all of us were still adjusting, bonding and getting to know
one another, there were times when my husband and I really struggled
with parenting," she wrote in an e-mail message.
Then one night she was watching the Dog Whisperer. Squaring off against
a particularly difficult dog, he took its intransigence as an
opportunity to teach proper behavior. "This is good," he said.
For Meyer, it was a moment of epiphany.
"This is good?" she wrote. "Did I have that attitude as a parent? Was I
focusing on the positives, the opportunities? Did I remember to take a
deep breath, to be calm and assertive when dealing with a frustrating
situation? I realized this was something I really needed to work on.
And once I did, I saw a difference right away. Our son was calmer and
more responsive. During those times when he did act up, being calm and
assertive helped me deal with the misbehavior in a positive way."
It also, she added, "left me feeling a lot less stressed out."