What I’m Telling My Children

My seven year old has only known a world with an African American president. He thinks we are joking with him that Trump won. My 12 year old boy cried himself to sleep. He is afraid because Trump has nuclear codes. My daughter has been left speechless for the first time in her nine years. All those Justice girl power clothes feel cheapened.

We walked to school in silence. We didn’t quite know what to say. Even my husband joined us. Now, I have a school day’s worth of time to figure out what to do once the news sinks in.

So what do I tell them? It’s the question all of us parents are asking this morning.

I have the privilege of being a Northern Californian, not by birth but by choice. I work in Silicon Valley and am amazed every day but the wonders people — many of whom are “foreign”— are creating. I am proud that my children could care less about what gender you are, let alone who you love. They don’t care what bathroom you use. They care about who you are as a person. They have friends who are autistic, who have other “issues”. But they don’t even notice any of these “differences”. They are still young enough to think with their hearts.

So what lessons can we teach them from this election? Here are my jumbled thoughts. I’m still processing, but in the spirit of us all sharing, here it goes:

1. Democracy is fragile: If you love it, you must protect it. We had talked about going to a swing state as a family and helping getting out the vote. We didn’t and I will be forever regretful. If you believe in democracy you need to do your part. Thank you to all my friends in the pantsuit nation for all you did. We’ll have your back next time.
2. A liberal arts education is vital: If you don’t understand history you are bound to repeat it. If you don’t fully understand what concentration camps were, then you don’t understand the full weight of the words deportation centers.
3. You have to suck it up and move on: This is not our election. This is not what we wanted. But unlike the people who told me Obama was MY president and not theirs, I will teach my children to accept that Trump is the president and we must treat him with the respect the title (if not the man) deserves. We must quickly move on and understand that if we don’t want this to ever happen again we need to do more, to act more.

Yes, America, this is a wake-up call. But we didn’t just wake up those people who have found their president in Trump. We also woke up the next generation of leaders who aren’t accustomed to a world of hate. Let’s teach them well and keep them active. Let’s not worry about their math scores. Let’s worry about their souls.

We can still make the world a better place. It’s not too late.