Life With Liz: We’ve gotten to a place where …
A photo popped up in my memories the other day. E is a toddler, the boys are barely in school. They had set up a mock debate in our living room, using their foam tumbling blocks as podiums, other toys as microphones, and A was moderating the debate from the ottoman/podium.
At the time, it was adorable. Now, all I can think about is one of my favorite poems, “Children Learn What They Live.”
I’ve referenced it in this column before, possibly more than once, so I won’t recite the entire thing. That line is really all that you need to know for these purposes. The kids were emulating either the Obama/Romney debate or the Biden/Ryan debate.
I remember that evening, because Steve and I had watched as the kids hilariously imitated the adults they’d been watching. We also fed questions, both serious and funny to “the moderator.” Like typical politicians, sometimes their answers were spot on, and sometimes they were quite clearly in over their head but made a good effort anyway.
Just in case there was any doubt in my mind about what behavior our children are learning, or its possible consequences, one of my children reported an exceptionally upsetting conversation that had taken place in school recently. Now, I do need to preface this by saying that it was unclear to me whether this happened as part of a bona fide classroom discussion or if it was part of a conversation that happened at school, but outside of the classroom.
I will also say that as part of history and government classes, all my children have had discussions about the topic in an educational manner, with no opinions offered one way or the other by teaching professionals.
The conversation concerned abortion. The gist of the conversation, according to my offspring, was who was for it and who was against it. Several, it seems, were staunchly decided one way or the other, with a few hedging their decision by saying it might depend on the situation. This led to a discussion of when it might be “OK.” During this part of the conversation, one classmate made the statement: “Is rape really so bad?”
My child was taken aback by the question, and (wisely, I think) decided that the direction of the conversation was probably not going to go in a direction that they were comfortable with and stopped participating. I’m grateful that they came home to me with it and brought it to the table for more discussion. It was not the most comfortable conversation to have with a teenager, but it was one that I’m glad that we did have, and I’m glad that my children heard a full explanation of what that situation entails from me, with all its ugly truths.
I don’t know how much more thought my kids gave to that conversation, but it has haunted me. I am honestly not sure whether the statement was made by a boy or a girl, and during the conversation, grilling at that point was not appropriate. Obviously, there are different connotations depending on whether a male or female said it. Is someone thinking about doing it? Is it someone who has had it done to them? Is it someone who may one day be the victim of sexual abuse? I don’t know any of those answers, but the questions keep nagging at me.
The question of “how did we get here” is also one I’ve asked, but I think most of us who have heard people brag about “doing whatever they want,” or seen the backlash of the ##MeToo movement know exactly how we got here. In the context of having read Margaret Atwood’s “Handmaid’s Tale,” I also find this statement downright chilling.
Over the last few years, I’ve faced down several situations where I’ve said to myself, “the children are watching.” From standing up to a school board whose policies I’ve strongly disagreed with, to getting out of bed the day after Steve was killed, many times my only motivation is that my children are watching and learning.
It was gratifying, just a few years later, to see A be willing to stand up to the same school board to ask them to consider following the statewide mask mandate so that he, with his myriad health issues, could safely return to school during the pandemic. It has been gratifying to see all three of my children forge ahead, without their dad’s physical presence, but modeling and respecting his life in every way as they move forward without him.
Of course, it’s not all good stuff. Our kids are mosaics of our best and worst qualities at times. The best that we can hope for is that the good outweighs the bad. But, I am also reminded that Steve and I regularly called out each other for emulating some of our own parents’ less desirable traits, and that we frequently worked to try to overcome what we viewed as habits that needed to change. And, that brings me to another adage that I’ve found applicable to raising both children and training dogs: “What you allow, will continue.”
We’ve gotten to a place where we not only allow blatant disrespect and name calling to continue, but in some circles, that kind of behavior has become revered and expected, even anticipated.
We’ve gotten to a place where anger is the first emotion we direct toward anyone who might be different from us, whether it’s the color of their skin, the language they speak, or the holidays they celebrate.
We’ve gotten to a place where young people consider that violating another person might not be “that bad.”
Each of these “minor” offenses becomes a steppingstone to a larger one.
One thing that I do know about kids, though, is that they’re resilient, they’re smart, and they are much more open to change than their elders.
Life With Liz is published on Saturdays in the Times News.