No matter how much we try to shield our young children from the evils of terrorism and the continual onslaught of extremist violence, we can't. Might as well talk about it.
I was in Montreal last week when the November 13th attacks happened in Paris. Understandably, the topic came up a few times amongst my dad and mom, brother in law, and aunt and uncle, and cousins with whom I spent a lot of time over four days. My kids and my nieces were generally doing what kids do, having tons of fun, but these kinds of serious discussions filter down and I know my kids heard it.
Tanya and I decided long ago that we would try to be as honest as we could with our children when it came to introducing them to the these kinds of topics, keeping in mind the appropriate intellectual level to try to explain the horrors perpetrated by the "bad guys." So it came as no shock to me when Sophia, my sensitive 9-year-old, starting poking around.
"What happened in Paris?"
"Terrorists killed people," I answered. "A lot of innocent people died. It was terrible."
The discussion didn't last too long, but I knew Sophia heard me. Like most kids, her idea of right and wrong is monochromatic. And while real life is made up mostly of gray areas, I envy the simplicity that governs her developing brain. Being an adult—especially a parent—requires so much more.
At the airport on the way home, while I was picking up my final smoked meat sandwich before boarding, Sophia brought it up again. News channels tend to overreport these things on airport TVs, you know.
"Why do people blow up stadiums and kill all these innocent people?" she asked.
I thought for a few moments. "Terrorists try to make everyone afraid by killing whoever they want."
"Did they blow up the Eiffel Tower?" she asked.
"No," I chuckled.
"Why don't we just kill these people before they have a chance to do it again?"
"It's complicated. I think we should but...these things are complicated."
Her face was serious. "We're going to Paris next summer."
"Yes we are," I said. Suddenly, my sweet, innocent, giggly and silly fourth-grader was a different person. Fearful, anxious. "And we're going to have a great time! Mom and I REFUSE to live in fear. Okay? Our family will not live our lives in fear. If we do, that means the terrorists win."
I've been thinking about our discussion ever since. Life can be so complicated.
