On Parenting in Apocalyptic Times

Several days before ICE began its crackdown near my home, my eight-year-old broke out in hives all over his body.  

He was overwhelmed with stress.  We all were.  Rumors that Portland, ME would be the next site of an ICE surge had been circulating for a couple of weeks.  We were more glued to our phones than usual, tracking the news of murder in Minneapolis.  Our school district superintendent sent out a notice sharing resources and outlining the district’s plan.  We plugged in to local ICE watch and mutual aid networks.  Our whistles from summer camping trips were now as essential as our snowboots when leaving the house. 

For weeks we drove our son’s best friend, an Iraqi-American, to school because his dad was afraid to leave his home.  I began to wonder: how was I to parent in this moment?  Were we too open with our eight-year-old son and four-year-old daughter?  How could I help my children make sense of the fear in our home and in our community?  

Based on my work as a parenting coach and educator in the Peaceful Parenting framework, I knew the basics: children, especially pre-adolescents, experience parental stress as a signal that something stressful is happening.  My son’s hives were a signal that I needed to do a better job of centering myself –  swimming laps and listening to guided meditations – and staying away from social media.  I also knew that our household’s stress level was filling up my children’s “emotional backpacks," and it was my job to help them release that stress.  We wrestled and laughed together reading Calvin and Hobbes to “empty their backpacks.”  

Although these approaches helped manage the emotions in our house, we still stumbled through the new and difficult questions that our kids were asking about the situation.  

On the drive to school one morning, my eight-year-old asked if we were safe.  What was I to say?  The conventional parenting advice when scary news hits is to emphasize to kids that they are safe.  Though I knew that we were not among the most vulnerable, my wife and I certainly did not feel safe.   Reassuring him that everything was fine – when it clearly was not – would not satisfy my inquisitive and perceptive child.

Instead of directly responding to his question, I told my son that our family shows up for our friends and neighbors when they need us.  As Dr. Abigail Gewirtz explains in When the World Feels Like a Scary Place, parental values function as a filter through which we provide meaning and context to the events in our children’s lives.  When we share the values that are guiding our decision-making, especially in a moment of crisis, we can help children cope with stressors and help our children make sense of our behavior.

Later that evening, I shared that we weren’t alone in our commitment to our neighbors. We talked about our friends who were delivering meals and the parents organizing a walking school bus. In Mr. Roger’s words, we were “looking for the helpers.”  Turning to silence my phone messages during our bedtime routine, I told him that every buzz was another grown-up working to keep our neighbors safe.  For us both, remembering that we had an entire community looking out for each other was a balm.  

More recently, my four-year-old has been asking if bad guys are real.  I’ve been asking the same question myself.  I tell her that in real life, there are no bad guys and good guys; people sometimes make choices that help and other times they make choices that harm.  What I want my children to understand is that to be human is to have the capacity both to love and to destroy.  

What separates the helpers from ICE officers is not some fundamental goodness or badness.

In You Belong, Sebene Selessie, an African-American Buddhist practitioner, describes her process of healing from her rage about the Iraq War.  For weeks she contemplated daily what it would be like to live George W. Bush’s life. She realized “[i]f I lived his life, I would think the same thoughts, make the same decisions, be that same person.”  That she would be George W. Bush and do the same harm he had done.

If Selessie can get there with Bush, we can get there with ICE.  My wife and I believe extending empathy to ICE officers helps make the world less scary because doing so frees us from the idea that there are permanent bad guys.  Instead, there are only people who make mistakes and whom we are ready to welcome into the community of helpers when they are ready to lay down their weapons and repair the harm they’ve caused.

Thanks for checking out my work. I love hearing from parents and caregivers, so feel free to email me with your questions or reflections. To keep up with my latest writing and workshop offerings, sign up for my newsletter below or follow me on Instagram or Facebook.