The Conversation I Didn’t Want to Have

(Note: This post originally ran on Sunday on the Huffington Post. The good news is that, despite the tough and sad topic, my son and I ended up having a wonderful conversation about kindness and respect.)

As I sit here, my 8-year-old son is consuming his fifth waffle and watching some inane Sunday morning cartoon. His life is carefree, focused, as kids often are, on entertainment, fulfilling his needs, and fun, fun, fun.

But, at some point today, I have to sit him down and have a conversation I don’t want to have to have. One that will bring back memories of another conversation we had to have just over four months ago. One that upset him then and which will upset him now. One to which, when he asks why, we will not have the answers.

I guess this is parenting. I guess this is real life. It stinks.

Yesterday, we received notification from our kids’ school principal that they plan to hold Open Circles in class on Monday so the children can share any questions, concerns or feelings they have about this past week’s sadness and madness here in Boston.

First, let me say that I fully support the mission of the Open Circle program, which is described as:

  • Strengthening students’ [SEL] skills related to recognizing and managing emotions, developing care and concern for others, establishing positive relationships, making responsible decisions, and handling challenging situations constructively
  • Fostering safe, caring and highly-engaging classroom and school communities

Flash back four months to the days following the ghastly events in Newtown. School somberly informed us they’d be holding Open Circles in each class. I understand why it was necessary: many were distraught and we needed to provide a forum in which facts could be confirmed, mistruths corrected and, most of all, security and safety assured. But my husband and I, we struggled all weekend with the timing, feeling like ours hands were forced into having a discussion with children before school resumed, so that they could hear it from us first: the two people they depend on most for wellbeing, confidence, faith. I, for one, was not willing or ready for the responsibility of penetrating their carefree universe with the ugly reality that bad things happen to good people, without cause or sense. I needed more time to process, find the right words, consult with other parents. But the clock was ticking, the weekend hours running out before the Monday morning school bell and the wagging tongues of many kids.

To read the full post on Huffington Post, click here.

A Plea For Kindness

It’s been well over a week since I last wrote and published a blog post. I’ve been meaning to but the tragic events of last Friday muted both my desire and capacity to write. The words failed me. In many respects they still do. It’s not often I find myself stymied when words, usually, are my salvage.

Through the haze of the tears, attempts to process and comprehend, and the sickening reality of so much pain and innocence lost, one word kept piercing my emotions and reverberating in my head.

It’s kindness.

As parents, it’s our sole duty to raise children that have experienced and know kindness and how it manifests itself. As parents, we must model it every day so our kids understand it’s just the way we behave. We are kind to one another. We listen, we say please and thank you, we pay compliments, we boost you up when you’re feeling down, we reach out a helping hand. We open our minds and our hearts. Without kindness, the world is cold, shallow and violent place.

So, let’s all pledge to be a little—even a lot—kinder to each other. That’s all I want for Christmas.

Thank you.

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