There was often a moment of surprise when I would share my views. “Aren’t you worried about what she might bring home?” another mom would ask, extracting a large bottle of hand sanitizer from her bag.
“Nope.”
When it comes to germs, I feel quite confident. In almost six years, Mia has been sick only twice and has missed just one day of school. However, what she has brought into our home is beyond any disinfectant’s reach.
I’m very aware of the impact of language. Growing up, I was surrounded by girls who weren’t explicitly criticized about their looks, but their mothers’ relentless dieting and commentary on being “good” or “bad” left lasting impressions. I’ve made it a point to eat whatever Mia is having—whether it’s carrots or cake—without making comments about my body. She has never heard her dad or me utter the word “fat” or criticize someone’s appearance. When Mia began inquiring about overweight individuals we encountered, I responded that we should send them kindness because they might feel uncomfortable. My goal has been to instill a sense of empathy in her.
However, I learned that I can’t simply implement a cute parenting strategy and expect it to take hold, even in my little corner of Brooklyn. One night, when Mia was three, she pushed away her dinner, untouched cherry tomatoes on her plate, and said, “I don’t want to get fat.” Her best friend’s mom works in fashion—big time fashion. The kind of fashion that gets you on a first-name basis with icons. She uses the jargon of her industry, and her daughter mimics her, which Mia follows suit.
This little girl walks through our home critiquing her own looks, commenting on food, and calling out everything she dislikes. “I hate yellow shoes, I hate cartoons, I hate cats.”
“We don’t use the word ‘hate,’” I gently remind her. “It’s not a nice word.”
Mia glances back, clearly caught between my guidance and her friend’s influence, who, let’s be honest, is already so much cooler than I am at five.
I stood there, bewildered that terms like “fat” and “hate” had entered our home. But that was nothing compared to the night I was tucking her in, surrounded by her plush animals, when she whispered, “Goodnight, n_____.”
“What?” I asked, stunned.
She repeated it, and my husband and I exchanged wide-eyed looks of disbelief. We then dropped our voices to a whisper, saying, “You must NEVER use that word again.”
After shutting her door, we stood in the hallway, adorned with her colorful collages made from construction paper. How had these words infiltrated our sanctuary of kindness? David was ready to call her school’s headmistress. I hurried to stop him. “No, no, she didn’t hear it at school.”
“How can you be sure?” he questioned, wary that I might confess to exposing her to inappropriate music or late-night TV shows. Her little private preschool is nestled between fast-food joints and a movie theater, where teenagers congregate and casually toss around that word as we wait to cross the street.
I plopped down on the floor, feeling lost. I understood that I could only control my child’s environment to a certain extent, but this was happening much quicker than I anticipated. I realized I needed to explain to her why some words are unacceptable, in a way that suited her age.
The following evening, after dinner, I sat her down and explained, “We don’t say ‘hate’ because we don’t truly hate anything. What we dislike is how that thing or person makes us feel—maybe powerless, maybe scared. It’s the feeling we don’t like. But we’ve the power to change that feeling.” She mulled it over. “And we don’t use the word you mentioned last night because it’s hurtful.”
She pondered this and then asked, “But why are the kids laughing when they say it?”
It was a valid question about a complex issue, and I did my best to address it while grappling with my own discomfort and guilt. This is the beauty of parenting: having someone challenge you, forcing you to articulate and defend your beliefs. Ultimately, I know this will help me stay adaptable and strengthen our bond as she grows. In the meantime, I’ll have positive ads playing in the background when her friend’s mom comes to pick her up.
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In summary, parenting is a journey filled with unexpected lessons and challenges. As we guide our children, we must also reflect on our beliefs and practices, fostering an environment of empathy and understanding while navigating the complexities of growing up in a diverse world.