Bullying, Racism, Death, Germs, and Other Uplifting Topics That Are Hard to Talk About With Children

Is this a space suit or a hazmat suit?

We are in the midst of the coronavirus epidemic and schools here have officially closed down. My husband did not read his emails this morning, but he did misread the clock and got everyone up an hour early! But, thank G-d, he's also home and has all 3 kids outside for some fresh air and play. Adults right now are all very worried and in some ways this worry is helpful when it comes to taking preventative measures and precautions. In other ways, the mass hysteria and misleading information out there can be hindering. And as much as we are aiming to protect our families and communities right now, our children are aware of our heightened concern--whether overtly so or not. And this makes me reflect on talking to young children about tough topics like this. We waver between wanting to protect and wanting to inform. S has already come home from school talking about washing his hands extra carefully every time before he eats to "protect from the Virus." What does he know about Covid19? What does he wonder? Is he worried or afraid? When it comes to talking about tough topics like illness, death, race/racism, bullying, sex, etc., where do we start? And where should we stop?

There is not, unfortunately, a simple and foolproof answer here. There is a delicate balance between giving too much information and not enough and that is different from time to time and from child to child. In addition, when our children bring up topics that are tough to talk about, we can easily be caught off guard and begin to make assumptions. When this happens, we may handle the discussion in a less helpful way. I often advise others (and myself) to begin with what they know. And the easiest way to do this is to ask! Let me give you a really unique example from last night:

My husband was giving S a bath and we have a couple of baby dolls in the tub right now for washing and playing. S asked for a doll to play with and my husband handed him one. It happened to be a doll with dark skin. We have a set of 4 of these dolls in varying skin tones. S said "I don't want the one with the dark skin, I want the one with the light skin." My husband was caught off guard and even later when he began to relay the story to me, I, too, jumped to a conclusion right here. Was my 5 year old son discriminating against skin color? Surely we are raising him better than this. I was mortified and then my husband said, "wait, listen to what happened next. I remembered you told me to find out what he knows and I asked him if there was a reason he wanted the doll with the lighter skin." And sure enough there was:
"Tatty, the doll with the light skin has an open mouth and the one with the dark skin's mouth is closed. I want the one with the open mouth so I can pretend to feed him."

Amazing. If we would have started the conversation here with what we know, it would have been completely different than the one that actually took place. It probably would have also felt out of context for S, who just wanted to feed a baby doll. He once asked for a doll in a toy store that was made to resemble a baby from Asia because the doll had "real hair." The other ones had no hair. And surely, we do have conversations in context about treating differences of all kinds with kindness and sometimes those conversations will cross the barriers of race or religion or disAbility, etc.

Even in talking to our children about weapon play and games we find alarming as adults, it has been helpful to find out what they know. Sometimes this can start a conversation. Other times, the conversation may end right there, perhaps to be continued at a later date as more information is required or acquired. It is so hard for us to remember the innocence and inherent ignorance of early childhood. We want our children to be kind. We want them to feel secure. We want others to be kind to them and be safe with them.

We also need to be honest. One of the times that this can feel incredibly challenging is when the topic of death comes up, particularly if it involves a loss within the family. Whereas it was previously thought that very young children are not able to process grief at an early age, research now shows that they do in fact process grief, albeit in their own way. Many adults will gear toward the answer of "so and so went to sleep for a long time" and this can be incredibly confusing and unsettling for children. Will So-and-so wake up? Will they die if they go to sleep? Children may ask questions about death and dying. What does it feel like to die? What happens when someone dies? When will Mommy and Daddy die? When will I die? These are hard for us as adults to process and that paired with our concern about how our children will process the answers can leave us feeling overwhelmed and ill equipped. I think it is OK to say "I don't know" when you don't know. I also think it is OK to keep answers very simplistic and wait for a response to determine what (if any) information is still needed. When I was little and wondered about this, my parents explained death as when the body stops working. In all honesty, this felt like a good answer and still, to this day, does.

What about when children say things that are alarming or upsetting? Once when I was quite little, I walked up to my mother and said "shoot yourself!" She responded in a normal adult way in telling me that this wasn't a nice thing to say and then asked me what I meant. "It's what the goose said in 'Charlotte's Web!'" Ok, so the goose said "suit yourself," which I also had no understanding of but it sounded pretty cool and a little funny so I tried it. And missed a little...

But what about when tough topics involve conflict? Conflict is ever so uncomfortable for us. We may not like it ourselves as adults and we certainly don't want it for our children. And nowadays there is a strong movement toward handling bullying more strongly. In many ways, this is helpful, but I think in some ways it has gone overboard and to the other end of the spectrum where we perceive any and all conflict as bullying when, in fact, not all of it is. Particularly in regard to the preschool and below population, it is not particularly common for very young children to be "bullies." Note that I am using the word bully here to describe actions that are targeted at a particular individual or population and done with the intent to be hurtful/harmful. Most young children do not display this type of behavior, barring extreme exceptions or incidents where trauma is involved.

Most young children do display behaviors we would classify as aggressive, impulsive, hurtful/harmful. The intent may be specifically targeted at an individual, but the purpose is not to bully. Alternatively, the purpose may stem from anger and a desire to gain control or meet a need, but the target may not be specific. And conflict at this age is typical. Verbal arguments, unkind statements, even hitting/kicking/biting and other forms of physical "aggression." We understandably have a low threshold for violent acts. We can't allow children to hurt each other or be hurt. It is painful if our child is the target. Sometimes even harder when our child is the one targeting others. But we need to stop calling preschool aged children bullies. Not only is this unhelpful for children to identify what bullying really is and how to handle it, it is damaging for the child being labeled. Giving support and language and helpful tools to all parties is necessary. Understanding typical child development and recognizing if and when more support is needed is also important.

Nobody likes to hear someone tell our child "I'm not your friend anymore" or "I don't like you." But we also have an adult experience of rejection. And when we think about our own "childhood" experiences of rejection, our memories are more likely from our grade or middle school years than from our preschool years! Nonetheless, these types of statements fly across the playground on a daily basis. We jump in to "coach" with statements of "that's not nice!" or "we don't say 'you can't play,'" or "we're all friends here." But let's unpack this a bit. First of all, this business of "we're all friends here" is potentially a little unfair. Are you friends with everyone in your workplace or neighborhood? I'm not. We can all be kind and respectful, we don't all need to be friends. And even when we are friends, we don't need to always be together or be completely in sync and agreement with one another. And the statements of "that's not nice," may also be less helpful. It may not have been meant to be nice, so you may be preaching to the choir. Alternatively it may not have been the intent of the child saying something to be unkind. Take the following vignette:

A child in my class sat down at the lunch table and opened his lunchbox. The next child joined the table and one by one the spots filled up until the last of the children to wash his hands arrived with his lunchbox and one empty seat remained. "I don't want to sit next to ____" he said. I was about to go into Conflict Resolution Mode when I decided instead to ask if there was a reason. And sure enough, there was: the child sitting there had a tuna fish sandwich and the child waiting to sit down did not like the smell of tuna. I like tuna but honestly, it does smell! Another little girl said she did like the smell and offered to switch seats; problem solved.

I do not want to insinuate that in coaching and teaching our children about bullying, conflict resolution and other tough topics that we are creating the problems that do emerge as they get older. Most children at some point in their lives will experience these things in one way or another and we want them to be prepared, informed and know how to seek support. I am not the type of person that feels it is helpful or realistic to make our children blind to these ills of the world; I am the type of person that feels it is helpful to make them adequately and appropriately aware and sensitive. We've all reached that point of adulthood where we look at our kids today and ask (sometimes even out loud) "What are you thinking?!" and you know what? Tone aside, that's a good question.

Asking our children--even our very young ones--what they are thinking can be the very best place to begin a conversation that needs to follow. What do you know about ___?  What do you wonder? What questions do you have? Is there anything about ____ that worries you or that you want to know more about? Sometimes the answers won't come right away and that's OK. It's not a race, it's a marathon. But leave the door open or at least unlocked so they can return if and when need be.  And don't forget the power of play here. Some conversations are better had through play and some topics of curiosity are better noticed through play. Once in a while when S has done something he is not so proud of, he finds in helpful for Mistakey the Snakey to come out and tell me about it as opposed to him. And sometimes in those conversations, Mistakey can get quite silly. But Mommy always reminds him that even when he is a silly Snakey and makes a mistake, he can always come and talk about it and I will help him.

In fact, most of my conversations like this end with talking about help. What can help you solve this problem? Who can help you? What would be helpful now? What do you need from me right now? And the very last thing I want to remind myself and all of you: it is OK not to know. We don't like not knowing. It's uncomfortable. But not knowing can be just the right amount of fire under our feet to learn more. And if we want to raise a generation of children who desire to learn more, we need to raise a generation of children who are not uncomfortable not knowing. Model it. Embrace it. Use it for the good. And as always...

Happy Playing!