Teaching your kids by fighting with your spouse

How to disagree well

Dear Glonal Jigsaw,

This weekend my spouse and I will celebrate our 20 year wedding anniversary with a group of friends from around the world, in the Spanish countryside.

Julio and I met 25 years ago and have spent these decades arguing our way across the multiple countries - China, Belgium, Indonesia, Japan and Spain – that we have lived in.

The first year that we began dating as students at university in London, we went to a café in Bloomsbury for a bite to eat. Even as we chomped down on paninis, we became so heated over a disagreement on how China should handle Tibet that an silver/haired gentleman sitting on a nearby table was made most irate. He showily folded the newspaper he’d been reading and huffed his way over to us. “Thank you for destroying my morning,” he’d said icily, before stomping out, muttering, “I’d been trying to have a peaceful coffee.”

Fast forward many many years, and a few days ago Russia and NATO had us so riled with each other that the friend we were having a drink with at a bar in Madrid, asked if we spoke like this in front of our children as well. And if so, whether they ever worried that we’d get divorced.

We did. And they didn’t.

***

It is conventional wisdom that parents should present a calm, impregnable, united front before their children. That they shouldn’t fight within earshot of their offspring, keeping any disagreements private. By this yardstick, my husband and I are spectacular failures.

It’s not as though we only debate world issues. We also squabble about the mundane, you-forgot-to-buy-the-cat-food-again, variety of universal marital resentments. In regular games of family blame-pong, he says I am overly anxious, and I say he doesn’t plan enough. We even disagree on the boundaries we set for the boys. Julio is far more laissez faire than me when it comes to screen time, but I am more forgiving of their habitual foot dragging while getting dressed for school in the morning.

Julio wants them to study enginerring and Maths: subjects that will give them the hard skills to forge a career in these unpredictable times. I can't help but want them to follow their passion, even if that leads them down the road to art history.

None of these conversations happen in hushed tones, behind closed doors, after the children are asleep. They are daylight-drenched broadcasts that form part of the humdrum aural backdrop of our family life. But - and herein lies the significant bit - so are the make ups and the little gestures of big love that frame the squabbles. The cup of chamomile tea that my husband might bring me, unsolicited but so perfectly timed, while I’m reading in bed. The dentist appointment I take a break in arguing with him to make - for him. Those moments when we are in complete agreement – on the importance of pluralism, on the need for resilence, on the kids practicing piano.

For my boys, disagreements are normalized. They understand that arguments need not end in catastrophe. Fights exist so that compromises can be found. They know that divergences can be tolerated, even in the long term, without the need for any final solution. They have been shown that agreeing to disagree is a powerful form of empathy.

Their mother is not long-suffering. Their father does not seethe in silence. Sometimes their parents are angry, after all they are human. They may even hate each other momentarily, but they love each other constantly. Our boys know that love does not need agreement. That a person is not loved merely because they are pleasing. That reaching across boundaries is harder, but more rewarding than living a life circumscribed by an uncrossed border.

The story of every marriage, and every family, is one of War and Peace. There can be no peace without war. We’re doing our children a disservice if we have them believing that relationships are about perfect consonance. A marriage should be like a democracy, rather than an authoritarian regime: a place where dissent is valued over enforced harmony.

Within a marriage, fighting is a ritualized performance. It can be damaging, of course, but if handled well, it is a safe space within which to enact and process the frustrations of the outside world. For children, learning how to fight with compassion is a crucial life skill.

The world today is a polarized one. It is plagued by culture wars, fake news and social media trolls. What’s needed to heal some of these ruptures is the ability to break out of ideological silos and to engage with those whom with we disagree. This may not make us agree with them but learning to “fight” our opponents well - vehemently, but not violently and with at least a soupçon of humour - is an art desperately needed in global public discourse. One that could perhaps take a leaf or two out of the book of every successful marriage,

That's it for this week. I will be back soon, with more essays on culture, travel, parenting and politics - because why be a hedgehog when you can be a fox!

In the meantime, do upgrade to a paid subscription, and as always, share and comment.

Hasta la proxima semana,

Pallavi