I’ve Taught My Kids an Important Lesson About the Way We Treat Others. One Teacher Is Threatening to Undo It.

Care and Feeding Photo illustration by Slate. Photos by natatravel/Getty Images Plus and Fajrul Islam/Getty Images Plus. Sign up for the Slatest to get the most insightful analysis, criticism, and advice out there, delivered to your inbox daily. Care and Feeding is Slate’s parenting advice column. Have a question for Care and Feeding? Submit it here. Dear Care and Feeding, Here’s a low-stakes (but perhaps existential?) question that has caused me to fret more than it probably should have. I could use a fresh perspective. I’m a “sensitive” person. This is a label I’ve come to embrace, though I try to be careful not to impose my disposition or feelings on others. That said, I have two kids—”Sarah,” age 5, and “Isaac,” age 2.5—whom I have tried to raise to be unafraid of (and curious about!) insects, other creepy crawly things, and other generally unloved creatures (bats, opossums, etc.). I do this with the perspective that all living things deserve to live their lives, and that they have value in a world where we are all connected in some special way. I also believe that when kids can stand up for the unlikable, unpopular animals, it can translate later to being able to stand up to bigger injustices and to see value in all humanity—but that’s a theory that’s not yet totally age-appropriate (and anyway, I don’t like to get preachy). Still, both of my kids have so far embraced this: They carefully put beetles and spiders outside and have helped snakes to cross roads and so on. My issue has been my older daughter’s recent experience at school. I get that other kids may be scared of spiders and snakes (etc.), and that this may seep into her perspective on them, but lately, she’s been directing me to squish house bugs and has even asked for a flyswatter of her own. Apparently, in her pre-K, one of her three teachers has an aversion to creepy crawlies: She screams if she sees a spider and other bugs, calling out to other teachers and the kids to kill them. She totes her own flyswatter around all day long. I am not precious, and I do feel that the world needs all types of people, showing all types of perspectives and comfort levels. I don’t want my kids to live in a bubble, and I don’t want this person to have to edit herself for me. This puts me in a spot. I’ve said things to my 5-year-old like, “Ms. X has a fear of bugs that a lot of people in the world have. But that doesn’t mean that bugs deserve to be killed.” I keep it neutral. Still, I’m not sure what to say when my daughter asks if it’s “wrong” to kill bugs, or when she mentions that she’s told Ms. X that it’s wrong. And now I’m looking ahead to her entering kindergarten in the fall (and my son entering the same pre-K she’s in now). Aside from the general “every family has their own ways” and “I feel it is wrong because [xyz]—how does it make you feel?” spiel, how do I continue to instill these values/morals in our household, as well as instill in my kids the confidence to stand up for what they believe in? Also: Do they believe as I do? Am I (or should I be) imposing such beliefs on them at this stage of their lives? And if so, where do I draw the line? Especially given this additional complicating factor: I do kill ticks and mosquitoes that are biting us! I tell the kids that I feel bad about it, because they were only acting out of instinct, but that, because they were harming my family or me, I had to act to protect us. I know, I know—we’re talking about bugs here, and it’s not the same thing as standing up to racial injustice, bullying, and other pressing moral issues my kids will face. But I hope to create a strong foundation for them—a moral framework, a way of thinking overall—before these bigger opportunities to shape a more just, welcoming, and connected world arise. —Totally Bugging Dear Totally, I don’t think your question is low-stakes, though I can certainly imagine that you’ve been told it is if you’ve raised it with friends, family, colleagues, or anyone else you know, since many people are quick to dismiss “existential” questions (these are the same people who have dubbed you “sensitive” or would tell you you’re being “precious”). If you don’t teach your children the lessons you’re describing—that life itself is precious (the good kind), that all living things deserve respect and care, and that it’s important to stand up and stand strong for what one believes in, who will? You’re right: This is “just” bugs. But you’re also right that there’s a direct line from “just bugs” (dispensable) versus human beings and those who matter more or less than others. Just as there’s a direct line from standing up for bugs and other creatures of which some people are fearful, or by which they are disgusted, to standing up for people of whom some are fearful, or by whom some are disgusted. The tricky part is not ticks/mosquitoes as opposed to spiders/flies. What you have told her on that matter is just right, I think: There is a meaningful difference between defending yourself or protecting others who are being harmed and killing a creature who means you no harm, who is just going about its ordinary business of web-spinning. And sharing that you feel regretful about smushing that mosquito who’s been feasting on your daughter’s blood drives the point home. What’s tricky, really, is teaching your child to be diplomatic, polite, and respectful when dealing with those who disagree (or who have never thought about things the way she has been taught to). I think you can make use of your child’s evident admiration for Ms. X. (She wouldn’t be parroting her—or wanting to wield the very same weapon Ms. X does, in imitation and homage—if she did not greatly admire her.) Five is neither too young to be told that some people have never thought about bugs and critters as living things “just like us—and just like our pets, too” nor that there are graceful ways to approach this in conversation. (I don’t think it’s too young, either, to be given the warning that many grown-ups may not welcome a child’s efforts to educate or sensitize them.) Make it into a role-play game: Let her be fearful Ms. X, and you be her. Model how to gracefully state your case without coming off as a smart aleck. Teach her not to say that what Ms. X believes or does is “wrong,” but instead to state clearly what she believes and does when it comes to those creepy crawlies (or fliers). Teaching her to “stand up for what she believes in” while not demeaning or insulting the person who believes otherwise is as important as any of the other lessons you mention. You ask, too, if your child actually believes in what you’ve taught her, and whether it’s wrong to be attempting to impart your beliefs so early. I’d say that children believe only what they’ve been taught by their parents (until they’re 11 or 12, when they begin to question everything they’ve been taught to believe in … and even then, they tend to stay roughly within the framework they’ve been given). Often, it’s only once they’re in their late teens or 20s that they start to emerge as people with fully separate sets of ideas and beliefs. And even then, what’s likely to stick—through every developmental stage—is the moral compass they developed when they were young. Give your children a good one—by which I mean one that’s strong and sturdy, but also rooted in compassion, kindness, acceptance, and fairness—and, by my lights, you’re doing the best possible job of being a parent. Please keep questions short (<150 words), and don‘t submit the same question to multiple columns. We are unable to edit or remove questions after publication. Use pseudonyms to maintain anonymity. Your submission may be used in other Slate advice columns and may be edited for publication. Dear Care and Feeding, At what age is it appropriate to bring a child to a funeral? My husband’s grandmother passed away two weeks ago, and the funeral is scheduled for the end of the month. We have a 4-year-old son, and are not sure if it would be a good idea to have him attend, for a variety of reasons, but mainly because of our concern over his ability to sit still for the church service and then the graveside one, back-to-back. Any thoughts? —Better a Sitter Than a Meltdown? Dear Better, There’s no absolute answer to the question of “how old is old enough”; it depends on each child in question. If your son knew and loved his great-grandmother, and you explain that she has died—and talk about what that means in an age-appropriate way—and you explain what will happen at the funeral in terms he can understand (something like, “All the people who loved her are feeling very sad that she died, and many of them will be together in a room thinking about her and being sad together, and different grown-ups will talk about her and the fact that she has died—and some of them may cry”)—and he expresses a desire to be there, I vote for taking him. (But not to the graveside service. For that, I’d advise you either to stay behind with him or to arrange for child care. I think that part would be too scary and upsetting to a child who is too young to understand the permanence of death, a concept that doesn’t usually dawn until around age 8.) Linda Goldman, a therapist whose life’s work has been centered on children’s experience of death and grieving, notes that any child old enough to love is old enough to grieve—and since a funeral takes place, at least in part, to help us process our grief, children who’ve lost someone they loved may benefit, in their own way, from it. But please keep in mind what I said at the outset: If your 4-year-old loved his father’s grandmother, all the rest of my advice follows. But if he really didn’t know her, never spent much time with her, never had the chance to love her—and thus is not grieving her absence, then my sense is that attending her funeral will be confusing and disturbing, not healing. In that case, I’d get a sitter. As to the question of his being able to quietly sit through the service without disturbing others: Be prepared to take him outside or to another room, probably more than once. Even if he is very sad about Great-grandma—even if (once he had something of an understanding of what it would be like) he had declared he wanted to be at the funeral—he is almost certain to need breaks. Ever Gotten a Call From Human Resources? Laura Helmuth and Doree Shafrir want to hear about it—and help you navigate your problems at work. Does your colleague constantly bug you after hours? Has an ill-advised work romance gone awry? Ask us your question here! Dear Care and Feeding, My daughter and son-in-law casually use profanity. I have always disliked it, but said nothing because they are adults. However, their son just turned 2 years old, and he curses as much as they do. I have tried to warn them that they are setting him up for trouble in pre-K and beyond, but they refuse to change their ways. What can I do to convince them that the sailor talk needs to go? —Put the Potty Mouths on Pause Dear Pause, You can—and should—do nothing. Your grandchild is not your child; he’s theirs. Unless your grandchild (or any child!) is in actual danger, I advise staying out of it. Either his parents don’t care a whit about his picking up the casual use of profanity (and if his future teachers scold him for it or call them in for a stern conversation about it, they’ll push back), or they figure that the outside world, in the form of those teachers and other adults, will do the job they’re unwilling or unable to do at home. Or maybe, I suppose, they think the swearing is cute right now, and will not find it so later—and, at such time, when it feels like an issue to them, they’ll change course. What I can tell you for sure is that a grandparent who interferes in the way a child is being raised runs the risk of being shut out altogether. So stay in your lane. (That lane, to be clear, is loving him, helping to take care of him when asked, providing for him in any way you’re able and that his parents explicitly approve of, and making sure he knows you’re there for him should he need you—for anything, ever.) —Michelle More Advice From Slate I have been dating “Lynn” for about a year. She has an 11-year-son, “Mike,” who she was reluctant to introduce me to. We would only see each other when Mike was with his dad or grandma. Recently, their apartment complex needed serious repairs to its water and sewage lines. Never miss new Slate Advice columns Get the latest from Prudie and our columnists in your inbox each weekday, plus special bonus letters on Saturdays. Advice Family Kids Parenting