As men, we are busy. That wasn’t meant to enlighten you – you are very well aware of that. That busyness, however, usually means that we leave the ‘teaching’ of the kids up to Mom, who is also busy and usually figures that is what the schools are for. Of course, schools are there for teaching children, but not for teaching them everything. There are certain life lessons that I don’t want my children to learn from anybody but me.
As a father with two young children, I am tempted to think that they are too young to learn about certain things – after all, they are only 3 and 6 years old – how much could they understand? Also, as a Guidance Counsellor, I spend much of my day talking with teenagers who do not really seem to understand the same lessons. Why then, would I try to teach my young children about things like death and divorce? Two reasons why I should teach them about these things at such a young age came to me: first because they asked, and second because they are my kids.
Obviously, my 3-year-old son didn’t come up to one day and ask about the complexities of relationships that lead people to considering divorce. The other day in the car, however, my kids did ask me why my own mother and father live in different cities. I don’t believe in telling my kids lies (please let them not ask me if Santa Claus is real!), so I thought I would try to tell them (albeit gently) why it is that my parents don’t live together. Now, I didn’t tell them all the details about what lead up to the separating of ways, but I did explain to them the basics that this sometimes happen to adults who are married. I also reassured them that this would never happen to their mommy and daddy (‘cause it won’t!). I also explained all of this because they are my kids and I don’t want anybody else trying to explain to them a, perhaps, twisted, worldview of divorce. I want them to get it from me so that I can mentor them from my own morals and beliefs. A mentor is usually an older person who “advises and guides” a younger person who has less life experience. That is my job, nobody else.
Similarly, my family faced the death of my wife’s father over the summer. Death is difficult for a child to totally understand, so instead of telling them something easy, but not necessarily true, just to appease their curiosity, we told them straight up what had happened. Naturally, one of their first questions involved his current whereabouts. Right there, I was glad that we had addressed the topic properly with them. Again, because they asked, and felt the need to know (that is what learning is all about – curiosity), but also because they are my kids and I wanted them to get my views on the topic, not the feel-good, watered-down, canned response.
In the interest of not making this too long, am I glad I told the kids when they asked? Of course I am. Do they even understand the difficult concepts I explained to them? I don’t know for sure, but I believe they actually do have a decent, working understanding of them. My son, when he hears about something dying and not being around anymore, often comments, “Like Grandpa”. I think he gets it. Ultimately, I want the school to teach them facts and general, unchallengeable knowledge, but when it comes to morals, values and beliefs, that is my job.
As a father with two young children, I am tempted to think that they are too young to learn about certain things – after all, they are only 3 and 6 years old – how much could they understand? Also, as a Guidance Counsellor, I spend much of my day talking with teenagers who do not really seem to understand the same lessons. Why then, would I try to teach my young children about things like death and divorce? Two reasons why I should teach them about these things at such a young age came to me: first because they asked, and second because they are my kids.
Obviously, my 3-year-old son didn’t come up to one day and ask about the complexities of relationships that lead people to considering divorce. The other day in the car, however, my kids did ask me why my own mother and father live in different cities. I don’t believe in telling my kids lies (please let them not ask me if Santa Claus is real!), so I thought I would try to tell them (albeit gently) why it is that my parents don’t live together. Now, I didn’t tell them all the details about what lead up to the separating of ways, but I did explain to them the basics that this sometimes happen to adults who are married. I also reassured them that this would never happen to their mommy and daddy (‘cause it won’t!). I also explained all of this because they are my kids and I don’t want anybody else trying to explain to them a, perhaps, twisted, worldview of divorce. I want them to get it from me so that I can mentor them from my own morals and beliefs. A mentor is usually an older person who “advises and guides” a younger person who has less life experience. That is my job, nobody else.
Similarly, my family faced the death of my wife’s father over the summer. Death is difficult for a child to totally understand, so instead of telling them something easy, but not necessarily true, just to appease their curiosity, we told them straight up what had happened. Naturally, one of their first questions involved his current whereabouts. Right there, I was glad that we had addressed the topic properly with them. Again, because they asked, and felt the need to know (that is what learning is all about – curiosity), but also because they are my kids and I wanted them to get my views on the topic, not the feel-good, watered-down, canned response.
In the interest of not making this too long, am I glad I told the kids when they asked? Of course I am. Do they even understand the difficult concepts I explained to them? I don’t know for sure, but I believe they actually do have a decent, working understanding of them. My son, when he hears about something dying and not being around anymore, often comments, “Like Grandpa”. I think he gets it. Ultimately, I want the school to teach them facts and general, unchallengeable knowledge, but when it comes to morals, values and beliefs, that is my job.