By Bill Henk – It’s true confession time once again I’m afraid. Experiencing a wonderful Christmas has finally guilted me into owning up as an educator to an embarrassing infraction. In effect, I’m admitting to still another case of “do as I say, not as I do.”
The inescapable bottom line is that I belong on a different kind of Naughty List –one for parents. Check that — I deserve to be a charter member — because I’m a chronic offender, a lifer if you will, unworthy of consideration for parole.
You see, the first thing every educator should tell parents is that Santa’s Naughty List should be used sparingly if at all. In fact, it turns out that there are LOTS of reasons not to overuse, let alone abuse, the Naughty List strategy, and some very good advice on the topic can be accessed by clicking here for a link to the Parent’s Workshop. There you’ll find a useful piece written by Jody Johnson Pawel, founder of the Family Network and President of Parents Toolshop Consulting.
According to Ms. Pawel, the Naughty List approach to behavior management falls into the basic category of “Just because a parenting tactic works doesn’t mean you should use it.” She goes on to discount similar quick fixes like bribes, rewards, threats, and corporal punishment that work in the short run, but carry ”a high risk factor of bringing on negative long-term problems.” She rightly goes on to describe a thoughtful general approach that is “respectful, works in the short run, and gets more effective long-term results.”
Of course, she is exactly right. However, there are two aspects of her piece that require some personal clarification and elaboration. These are the factors at the root of my shameful use of the Naughty List. Are you ready for them?
Simply Irresistible
OK, here’s why I can’t get off the Naughty List:
- First, the respectful approach requires intelligence, sensitivity, patience, consistency, and determination to execute. To some degree I possess all of these traits, but can’t seem to put them together when it comes to parenting.
- Second, Ms. Pawel suggests that Naughty List threats only work for about six weeks leading up to Christmas. I have direct evidence that this assertion can be faulty.
Believe me, I wish that when my precious little daughter, who is generally very well-behaved, gets mischievous I could be intelligent, sensitive, patient, consistent, and determined. But like too many parents, I act impulsively, lazily, and unilaterally. I know better, yet still persist. Why?
Because with my child, Naughty List inclusion works every single time. She will avoid membership on the dreaded list at all costs, and its mere mention will send her pleading. The very thought of it induces panic in her.
Even though my threat ot notifying Santa totally unnerves my wonderful child (something I wouldn’t permit any other human being to do), the 100% success rate of the tactic seduces me into using the List over and over again. It’s addictive, I tell ya.
Maybe the approach only works in the weeks leading up to the holiday season for other kids, but not for my mine. No kidding, I can use it with her 24/7, 52 weeks, 365 days per year including Christmas!
No doubt I’m taking unfair advantage of my youngster, but I can’t seem to help myself. With my poor unsuspecting offspring, the Naughty List threat not only never ever ever ever ever fails to correct her misbehavior, but it also does so IMMEDIATELY. Honestly, it would be much easier for me to cease and desist if my bad parenting didn’t work so incredibly well.
Nonetheless, in my mind and heart, I know that I’ve got to change my ways. I love my daughter with all of my heart, but this treatment is not loving. For what it’s worth, I’m going to try going ‘Santa List’ cold turnkey this coming year. (But I’m probably not starting until January 1st when all resolutions are due. That’s because sad to say, her school holiday will go much smoother all around that way this one last time. Hey, I told you I was addicted).
How about this? For the time being, I will stop pretending that Santa’s telephone number is an ‘auto speed dial’ on my iPhonel! In other words, when Audrey is acting up, there won’t be any more “Call Santa Claus — North Pole” fake-outs for me.
So, parents, listen up. Please do NOT do use the Naughty List like I have. Choose the rightful course instead. That way you can stay off the ignominious Parenting Naughty List.
For Whom the Bell Tolls
One last point. You might think that someone who exercises the Naughty List as relentlessly as I do would dread admitting to my daughter that Santa doesn’t exist. After all, then the List would lose all of its behavior management mojo. Oh sure, I’ll definitely miss that ultra handy, clearly misguided way to shape my child’s behavior. But there’s something much worse I fear in calling out Santa, and it’s because I actually have a heart.
When the time comes, it’s going to be deeply painful all around to either tell my daughter that Santa is a fiction or admit to it when she confronts us. She adores Santa, and it will crush her to learn he’s not “real.” I literally hate the thought of inflicting that kind of emotional wound. Witnessing her profound disappointment will numb my soul and will mark the beginning of the end for the fabulous Christmas magic our family has enjoyed since Audrey started believing.
But it will bother me for another reason, too — a selfish one. What is it? Here’s a hint. It’s no coincidence that I love the children’s book “The Polar Express” as well as its remarkable movie adaptation. You see, I desperately want to believe in Santa myself and always will to some degree.
Call me crazy or even naughty for lying if you want. But I swear that I can still sometimes hear the silver bell.



Oh, Bill, not to worry–the Naughty List is just a refinement of Catholic Guilt, which has been used by fine parents such as ourselves for generations! And, whne the Santa transition time comes, I can give you a few hints from someone who also thinks she hears the bell sometimes!
Still pretty shameful of me to use the List so often, Mary. I’ll definitely check with you when my daughter is ready for the transition.
Bill