Talking to Kids About Politics
Politics can be confusing for kids… and adults.
I am a self-proclaimed political nerd.
I served two terms as a Parks and Recreation Commissioner where I joyously reviewed policy and worked with local government officials to improve our parks.
Who joyously reviews government policy?
As a Commissioner, I learned what it took to collaborate, compromise, and persist through mountains of red tape, and I am grateful for the experience.
My experience also allows me to talk to folks from all walks of life about the intricacies and frustrations of government, of which there are many.
You could label me progressive. I am. Still, I grew up in a decently red area of the country (Elise Stefanik is the Congressperson for my hometown).
I grew up seeing Confederate flags plastered on homes and sold at county fairs (which is funny in itself, given I grew up in New York).
Today, while I would vehemently disagree with many of my hometown neighbors, I see why somebody like Trump (or at least the idea of him) is appealing to people.
From San Francisco to my hometown, I can talk to almost anyone about politics, but recently, I’ve tested out a new audience: kids. My kids, to be specific.
My girls are eight and five, far too young to understand what’s happening worldwide, but they are old enough to know the names Kamala Harris and Donald Trump.
When Kamala Harris accepted the Democratic Presidential nomination, it was a historic moment. As the first woman of Black and Indian heritage to do so, this was a big deal.
That night, my wife was putting the kids to bed, and I ran upstairs to say, “What do you think of Rae watching the speech with me?”
“For sure,” she said. This was history.
As we sat down to watch the speech, I told her, “You’re likely going to hear things that are a little confusing, and that’s okay. It’s confusing for me and a lot of people, too. Just know, you can ask any questions you want, okay?”
She sure took me up on that offer.
Eight years ago, I was sitting in the same living room, watching the same TV with my then three-month-old daughter, stunned and in disbelief that Donald Trump was our President-elect.
Going to the polls that morning, I was so sure that Hillary Clinton would be President. I cast my ballot and practically went home to celebrate. Boy, was I wrong…
On September 10th, as my wife and I prepped dinner, we both had the same question: Do we watch the debate as a family?
Historically, sure. Debates are just a bunch of heady, policy-focused conversations with respectful disagreements. Kids would be so bored watching these things that they’d probably willingly put themselves to sleep without a second thought.
Though today? The concept of a respectful debate has been flipped on its head. Debates may be more entertaining than ever, but that’s not necessarily good for democratic literacy.
Civic engagement is important, but we’re not going to sit down and watch the whole debate—the kids don’t want that. But this could be a good entry point for us to have bigger conversations about the roles we play in making a better society.
We turned on the debate… and almost as soon as we turned it on, we turned it off.
“Who’s eating pets?!”
(Help! I don’t want to talk to my kids about politics anymore!)
I like to talk to my kids about politics in a way that makes sense to them. Nobody wants to hear about infrastructure, but the construction that improved our road to school is something they can understand; people voted to make that happen.
Kids don’t want to talk about bipartisanship, but they understand that when one kid on the playground refuses to compromise, they effectively prevent the other kids from having a good time.
But as much as I enjoy a good political conversation, you know what else I like to talk to my kids about? Their day. Planets. The texture of a perfect waffle. Anything other than politics because we shouldn’t be thinking of this stuff every second of every damn day.
My girls are kids, and I want them to remain kids. It’s a privilege I want to cherish for as long as I can.
Many of their friend's parents and grandparents have lost the ability to shield their kids from adult problems, and that decision is being felt throughout the country.
There isn’t one right way to talk to kids about politics, but I can think of a few wrong ways. Making kids wear “Let’s Go Brandon” t-shirts certainly comes to mind.
I feel hopeless from time to time. Seeing your Uncle share racist memes will do that to you. But then you look at human history and realize that nobody told us this stuff would be easy.
Over time, it takes collaboration, compromise, and persistence to move the needle for our little ones. If we place our hope in anything, it should be educating the next generation to work together, something society is severely struggling with right now.
Kids deserve more credit than they get. They are intuitive and smart and ask questions that adults are afraid to ask.
I can’t wait to bring my girls to the polls in November, where I will cast my vote for Kamala Harris and Tim Walz. And if my candidate of choice wins, I can’t wait to hold them accountable for the promises they’re making this election season.
I want my girls to know that our politicians are employees, and their bosses are the American people. It’s our duty to stay informed and engage in civilized behavior, just as I ask my kids to do on the playground at school.
I know politics can be confusing for kids, but I’ve witnessed plenty of evidence to prove it’s just as confusing for adults.
Have the conversation.
Talk to your kids about what they see.
There is a sweet spot between avoiding the topic completely and turning your kid into a political billboard, but if you’re still reading, I have faith you’ll find it.