When something like the recent horrific earthquake in Haiti occurs, parents of young kids are left with deciding how to talk to them about it. I’m not a psychologist, so this isn’t me giving you advice about how you should handle it. For my wife and me though, the simple truth is the only way to go. There is no way to hide them from tragedy. Even if you don’t have a television and can avoid the 24 hour coverage, they have friends. Kids talk about this stuff.
Our oldest daughter will turn seven soon. She is very sensitive, and has a need to understand how and why that leads to a never-ending questioning that borders on interrogation. The guys on Law and Order have nothing on my daughter. This is not unique and I’m sure you can relate. So last night when I turned on the television so she could watch the Backyardigans, and we passed a news channel showing a dead body being carried from rubble, I knew the conversation that would follow. It wasn’t our first talk about it, but I could tell she was ready to go deeper into things.
“When are they going to stop showing pictures of dead bodies? Yesterday at school, I told my friend I saw a bloody dead body on TV, and she said she did too. Kids don’t like to see that stuff. Parents shouldn’t let their kids see the news. It’s not appropriate for kids.” (Appropriate is her new favorite word). I told her that the earthquake in Haiti was a very bad thing and when very bad things happen in the world the news talks about them for a long time. Then I asked, “Do you have any questions about it?”
I find asking that question is the best way to proceed. I want to give her just enough information to put her at ease, and answering her questions works way better than trying to explain what I think she wants to know. We had the big “death talk” a couple years ago, when our dog died. That was literally an hour on her bed talking about every detail you can imagine. This was more about what an earthquake was, how they happen, how people are getting food and water, what they are doing with all the bodies, the list was long.
In the end, what she really wanted to know was that she was going to be safe and that this wasn’t going to happen to her. She gets caught up in the minutia of things because it’s easier to understand how a building would break apart and fall down if the ground was shaking, than big picture stuff like why bad things happen.
After answering her questions about heavy stuff, I like to put a positive spin on things and find something good to bring to her attention. Last night I talked about how when bad things happen, good people work together to help the people that need help.
She wanted to know what she could do to help. She thought that the people there must be very hungry and thirsty. She wanted to send food and water. I told her about Doctors Without Borders and how firefighters and rescue workers from all over the world went to Haiti to help. I explained how there are charities and groups of people that are already in Haiti, and that one of the best ways for us to help was to send these charities money so they can buy the things people need. I told her that I have a friend Danny, who runs a charity (12for12k.org) that is working with a group named Hope for Haiti and that I donated some money to help them. She thinks Danny is pretty great, and I agree.
I can tell she is still concerned that something like this can happen to her. While we were walking to school this morning, she asked again if earthquakes can happen here in Toronto. I reassure her but I don’t lie. I remind her how very rare these things are. I tell her that part of being a big girl is knowing that sometimes bad things happen in the world, but that I don’t think anything like this will ever happen to her.
Maybe I’m too harsh, but I don’t want to her to grow up naive. Maybe I should coddle her, and tell her there is no way anything bad will ever happen to her. That would be a lie though, and she’s too smart to believe it. No, for me it will always be the simple truth. The true facts with as little detail as I can get away with.
How about you? How have you dealt with talking about this with your children?
Ian is the father of two young daughters (6, and 2). He has a podcast and blog about starting a business while raising young children at Startup Daddy.
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This post is very helpful for parents searching for ways to have difficult conversations with their kids about tragedy and loss. Thanks Ian
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Excellent article.
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This post is very helpful for parents searching for ways to have difficult conversations with their kids about tragedy and loss. Thanks Ian
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This post is very helpful for parents searching for ways to have difficult conversations with their kids about tragedy and loss. Thanks Ian
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Excellent article.
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Excellent article.
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Thanks Brad. It’s never easy to talk about the heavy stuff, but it’s important.
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Thank you Wendy.
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Thanks Brad. It's never easy to talk about the heavy stuff, but it's important.
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Thanks Brad. It's never easy to talk about the heavy stuff, but it's important.
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Thank you Wendy.
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Thank you Wendy.
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My little guy sounds a lot like your daughter – a million questions about, well, whatever pops in his mind. My husband and I have been pretty glued to the coverage when we decide to turn on the TV for a bit, so he has as well. We just answer his questions as best we can at his level. In the end, I think he is looking more for reassurance than a real ‘why’. Which is good, because I don’t have a good ‘why’ for something this tragic. :/
Oh, and kudos for tackling these subjects with your kiddos!
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My little guy sounds a lot like your daughter – a million questions about, well, whatever pops in his mind. My husband and I have been pretty glued to the coverage when we decide to turn on the TV for a bit, so he has as well. We just answer his questions as best we can at his level. In the end, I think he is looking more for reassurance than a real 'why'. Which is good, because I don't have a good 'why' for something this tragic. :/
Oh, and kudos for tackling these subjects with your kiddos!
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My little guy sounds a lot like your daughter – a million questions about, well, whatever pops in his mind. My husband and I have been pretty glued to the coverage when we decide to turn on the TV for a bit, so he has as well. We just answer his questions as best we can at his level. In the end, I think he is looking more for reassurance than a real 'why'. Which is good, because I don't have a good 'why' for something this tragic. :/
Oh, and kudos for tackling these subjects with your kiddos!
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I think you nailed it about Reassurance. It is really the best thing we can give our kids. Thanks for stopping by!
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I think you nailed it about Reassurance. It is really the best thing we can give our kids. Thanks for stopping by!
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I think you nailed it about Reassurance. It is really the best thing we can give our kids. Thanks for stopping by!
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Ian, my name is Zachary. I am eight and Joe Hage is my dad. He just read your article to me.
Here is what I have to say. That’s what I’d do. If I were an adult, I would probably be saying the same thing.
You can have her make a page like my dad made for me at http://ez.com/ZacharyHelpingOthers.
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Hi, Ian. My name is Joe. I am 43 and father to son Zachary.
I told Zachary the night it happened as he was ready to say his prayers. I told him many people died and he began to get watery-eyed. He told me to stop.
He personalizes a lot. Like your daughter, he was afraid that it could happen to us.
I go a step further than you do. I told him that it *could* happen to us, even though it is unlikely. Foolish or not, I want my kids to know I am always with them should I not return home one day. God forbid that should happen, I want them to be able to reflect on how tender I was about the subject so they *might* be able to cope with it better.
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Ian, my name is Zachary. I am eight and Joe Hage is my dad. He just read your article to me.
Here is what I have to say. That's what I'd do. If I were an adult, I would probably be saying the same thing.
You can have her make a page like my dad made for me at http://ez.com/ZacharyHelpingOthers.
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Ian, my name is Zachary. I am eight and Joe Hage is my dad. He just read your article to me.
Here is what I have to say. That's what I'd do. If I were an adult, I would probably be saying the same thing.
You can have her make a page like my dad made for me at http://ez.com/ZacharyHelpingOthers.
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Hi, Ian. My name is Joe. I am 43 and father to son Zachary.
I told Zachary the night it happened as he was ready to say his prayers. I told him many people died and he began to get watery-eyed. He told me to stop.
He personalizes a lot. Like your daughter, he was afraid that it could happen to us.
I go a step further than you do. I told him that it *could* happen to us, even though it is unlikely. Foolish or not, I want my kids to know I am always with them should I not return home one day. God forbid that should happen, I want them to be able to reflect on how tender I was about the subject so they *might* be able to cope with it better.
#
Hi, Ian. My name is Joe. I am 43 and father to son Zachary.
I told Zachary the night it happened as he was ready to say his prayers. I told him many people died and he began to get watery-eyed. He told me to stop.
He personalizes a lot. Like your daughter, he was afraid that it could happen to us.
I go a step further than you do. I told him that it *could* happen to us, even though it is unlikely. Foolish or not, I want my kids to know I am always with them should I not return home one day. God forbid that should happen, I want them to be able to reflect on how tender I was about the subject so they *might* be able to cope with it better.
#
Ian, my name is Zachary. I am eight and Joe Hage is my dad. He just read your article to me.
Here is what I have to say. That's what I'd do. If I were an adult, I would probably be saying the same thing.
You can have her make a page like my dad made for me at http://ez.com/ZacharyHelpingOthers.
#
Ian, my name is Zachary. I am eight and Joe Hage is my dad. He just read your article to me.
Here is what I have to say. That's what I'd do. If I were an adult, I would probably be saying the same thing.
You can have her make a page like my dad made for me at http://ez.com/ZacharyHelpingOthers.
#
Hi, Ian. My name is Joe. I am 43 and father to son Zachary.
I told Zachary the night it happened as he was ready to say his prayers. I told him many people died and he began to get watery-eyed. He told me to stop.
He personalizes a lot. Like your daughter, he was afraid that it could happen to us.
I go a step further than you do. I told him that it *could* happen to us, even though it is unlikely. Foolish or not, I want my kids to know I am always with them should I not return home one day. God forbid that should happen, I want them to be able to reflect on how tender I was about the subject so they *might* be able to cope with it better.
#
Hi, Ian. My name is Joe. I am 43 and father to son Zachary.
I told Zachary the night it happened as he was ready to say his prayers. I told him many people died and he began to get watery-eyed. He told me to stop.
He personalizes a lot. Like your daughter, he was afraid that it could happen to us.
I go a step further than you do. I told him that it *could* happen to us, even though it is unlikely. Foolish or not, I want my kids to know I am always with them should I not return home one day. God forbid that should happen, I want them to be able to reflect on how tender I was about the subject so they *might* be able to cope with it better.
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