I’m sure you’re all more well informed on all the issues surrounding these incidents than I am, because frankly, I try to avoid as much of it (conversations, news, social media) as I can. I have more than enough to keep me worried, terrified, and sleepless in my own day-to-day life; adding in reports of massive loss of life as normal people go about their normal daily lives leaves me feeling like I’m teetering on the edge of sanity. I know that the family and friends of the victims of the recent tragedies would like the luxury of being able to turn it all off, and I’m so sorry that they can’t. I can’t imagine even the smallest bit of what it must be like to live with a new reality in which loved ones have been ripped away in the most horrifying of circumstances and aren’t coming back.
A friend and I were talking about social medial the other day and how it’s the best and the worst—the best because of all the awesome things you get to see and family and friends that you can keep up with; the worst because there’s so much sadness happening in people’s lives, and stumbling across a picture or post that shares the deepest devastations of a person’s life (for me, especially the ones that involve sick, dying, or deceased children, from babies to teenagers) can ruin me for an entire day. I have too many people depending on me and too many things to do to spend the day crying. I’ve been spending less time on social media as a result. I can’t help but feel that it seems a bit heartless to be this way, but for me it’s a necessary mental-health survival tactic.
Thankfully, for all the people like me that are incapacitated by the news of tragedy, there are so many others who are spurred to action. On a local level, I’ve been so impressed by the security measures taken by my boys’ schools in order to keep the students safe. On a national level, I’ve been so impressed by what feels like a sense of, “We’re fed up with this and we’re going to do something about it,” as opposed to the feeling of helplessness that has always seemed to pervade these conversations in the past. Have you gotten that feeling too? I’ve also been heartened by the outrage over the deaths of those who are strangers to most of us, and the calls to be more loving to those who are bullied and marginalized. At least, this is what I’ve picked up while trying to avoid it all.
How do you all handle this with your children? I know some parents think it’s important to tell their children any time a school shooting or other catastrophe happens, but I have never felt comfortable with that approach. I will always try to answer any questions my boys ask me and/or correct any misinformation they’ve gathered or misunderstandings they have. But I’ve rarely felt like it was a good idea to proactively present them with this kind of information. It seems overly burdensome to the child to smash his or her innocent view of the world and feeling of safety by telling them about the world’s horrors. They will certainly learn soon enough, and there will come a time when they must know (my middle schoolers are at that age, I believe), but I try to protect my little ones from these kinds of things. It reminds me of that quote attributed to Corrie Ten Boom’s father: “Some knowledge is too heavy for children. When you are older and stronger, you can bear it. For now you must trust me to carry it for you.”
What I feel like I can do is try hard to make sure our home is a place where my husband, children, and I can all feel as worry free as possible. We’re all out in the world all day, hearing and seeing things that are troubling, confusing, scary, and otherwise upsetting (in addition to the joys and blessings of life, of course!), so I try to make home a safe haven. I’m very careful about what’s on TV (both the news and shows/movies), what video games the boys play, the language that’s used in our home, and the parameters for acceptable behavior. I find these to be a good balance—antidotes, even—to what we encounter outside; I want my boys to know there’s always someplace they can go that’s wholesome and good (or at least trying to be). I know that home-as-safe-haven isn’t foolproof, but it’s the best I have to offer, and I firmly believe it has long-lasting ramifications—today’s children are tomorrow’s adults, after all.
Mother Teresa said love begins at home. St. John Paul II called the family the “sanctuary of life.” Trying to live in accordance with these ideals is all I can manage right now, and at the same time, it seems to be exactly what’s needed.
Kate and her husband have six sons ages 13, 11, 9, 8, 6, and 3. Follow her at www.facebook.com/kmtowne23, or email her at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..
