Barking dogs and screaming kids

[Speaker steps up to the microphone…]

Hello! Thanks for coming to my fake virtual TED Talk!

Today I want to talk a little bit about dogs. How many of you out there are dog lovers? Raise your hands, please!

[Hands go up.]

OK. That’s a lot of you. Note that I did not raise my own hand in response to my question.

[Light giggling and murmuring.]

Yes, it’s true — I personally do not love dogs.

My parents might trace this back to the fact that, when I was five, I was bitten by a neighbor’s dog. And I’m sure that did make a lasting emotional impact. However, the thing that I was more directly conscious of as a kid, and on into adulthood, and even these days, is the sound of a dog barking.

Can you all go ahead now and give me your best imitation of dogs barking?

[Barking noises fill the room. Speaker pretends to shudder and curl up fearfully.]

Great job on the barking! It was quite realistic — terrifyingly so, in fact.

You know how some people’s worst nightmare is to be in a room full of snakes, or a room full of spiders?

[Speaker pauses for audience to process this thought. Some murmuring and laughter ensues…]

You guessed it — for me, it’s a room full of barking dogs.

Now, at this point, the phrase “his bark is much worse than his bite” comes to mind. And I agree completely with that sentiment. Childhood experience to the contrary, I’m not afraid of getting bitten. Well, not that afraid, anyway. [Laughter.] I mostly hate the barking sounds themselves. To me they sound aggressive, macho, mean — all of toxic masculinity wrapped up in a single awful rush of primal animal noise.

And here is where some of you may feel compelled to rush to the defense of your beloved pets — and rightfully so. If I called one of you up to the stage, you’d probably say something like, “Greg, you are wildly misinterpreting the barking!”

[Some laughter and cheers.]

And you know what? You’re absolutely right. Barking is just how a dog speaks, isn’t it?

To understand what it’s really saying, you have to know the dog and be attuned to its range of barks, as well as its body language. A loud bark does not necessarily mean, “Get away from my property, you stupid cat person!” It might just mean, “Hi there! How’s it going?”

Unfortunately, as someone who doesn’t know any dog particularly well, all I hear is a harsh, guttural snarl. To my untrained ear, it sounds incredibly rude. But that is not necessarily the dog’s intent at all! And so, when I encounter a dog in public these days, I try to remind myself that what I’m hearing might not be what the dog is really saying.

[Audience members nod approvingly.]

So why am I telling you about this “insight,” which has been totally obvious to you dog lovers for many years?

I am telling you this because, at least for me, the barking of dogs has been a useful analogy for the screaming of children — my children.

I have three boys, one in college and two much younger: 7 and 9, respectively. The younger ones scream a lot. They scream at each other and they scream at me, among other targets.

For me, it’s very hard to handle the awful sound of my child screaming. Parental duties aside, it makes me want to retreat into a shell, like a turtle or a snail.

But here’s an idea that has been useful to me lately: young kids, like dogs, are working with a limited sonic palette, a limited vocabulary. When they scream “YOU’RE A LIAR!” they might literally mean that you are a liar, but they might mean something more like, “I extrapolated from your earlier promise and I am now bitterly disappointed to find out that’s not what you meant.” Or “my brother just called me a liar and I hate that label and now I’m full of rage and I need to unload it on someone else.”

The key for me, I think, is to keep trying to discern the intent, the emotions, and the context of the godawful sound. To brace myself for the sound, and not retreat into a shell, but interpret it with an open mind, and respond accordingly.

So far, my skill in interpreting kid screams has not progressed much beyond my skill in interpreting dog barks. But I’ll keep working on it. Perhaps this old dog, with persistence, can learn a new trick.

Thank you.