I wish we lived in a world in which we didn’t have to read about or hear about or worry about the really tough stuff -- like cancer, violent crime, drug and alcohol addiction, acts of hate, lying and cheating, sexual assault.
Yet we do.
We live in a beautiful, broken world. We are lovely, flawed people.
I’m never more aware of our frailty and vulnerability as I am when addressing current events with my children.
Long gone are the days of sheltering them from news. Instead, I’m constantly equipping them with what I hope are valuable antidotes and coping skills for a challenging present and future.
What’s working so far: an emphasis on our faith, with weekly worship services, daily prayer and conversations and questions about God; constant gathering of facts and opinions to understand issues from multiple viewpoints; and organic conversations that bubble up based on our interests and a whole bunch of events outside of our control.
As I gather advice and opinions, I share what’s relevant. For example, a recent New York Times article by Maia Szalavitz describes four traits that make young people susceptible to addiction: sensation-seeking, impulsiveness, anxiety sensitivity and hopelessness.
The article offered a relevant opportunity to talk (again) about illegal substances and taking care of our bodies.
Cooper and Katie already know that there’s a history of addiction in my family, and they know that’s why I’ve chosen not to drink alcohol. Because they have no modeling at home for moderation, we talk about what responsible drinking looks like.
It’s an ongoing conversation, with increasing importance given their ages and freedoms and widening circles of friends.
So, over the weekend I told them about the article on addiction, and we discussed risk factors and consequences of drug and alcohol abuse.
The same day, we had another crucial conversation -- this one about sexual assault.
(Never did I anticipate that a presidential election would take us down such a path, but here we are, and there’s no going back, so now we’ve got to address it.)
I wanted each of them -- one a boy, one a girl -- to hear the same words.
You are the best advocate for yourself.
Your body belongs to you. You are responsible for the food you eat and the exercise you do (or don’t do). You regulate how much water you drink and how many hours you sleep.
You get to control who touches you and who doesn’t. If you don’t want to be hugged, say so (politely, of course). If someone is too close, find a kind way to move away.
No one is allowed to touch any part of you, especially a part that would be covered by a swimsuit, without your permission.
You owe every single human the same respect you want for your own body.
The only body that belongs to you is yours. You are not allowed to force anyone to eat or drink something they don’t want. You are not allowed to force yourself on anyone else. Keep your hands to yourself unless otherwise given permission.
Do you understand? Do you have any questions? Do you promise to tell me or another trusted adult any time you are unsure?
These kinds of conversations are never easy, though they become less awkward the more often we have them. I’d rather have slightly uncomfortable discussions than live with regret of unspoken words.
It’s a tough job, preparing our imperfect children for an imperfect world. Perhaps, though, this generation will grow up to curb dishonesty and violence and to salve the wounds we’re creating today.
Tyra Damm is a Briefing columnist. She can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.