Sure, it addresses some mature themes like the patriarchy. But we talk about hard social issues all the time in our family.
Sure, my boys are explicitly not the target audience. But they read all sorts of stuff that centers girls and women, including Squirrel Girl comics and the Ramona books, and love them.
Sure, they won’t get all of the jokes. But that’s true in day to day life and they’ll get plenty of them, like Ken’s job being “beach.”
So I think they’d enjoy it.
But more importantly, I want them to be exposed to the messages it carries in such an accessible way.
This weather – the record heat, the poor air quality – is scary and exhausting for adults. But what if you’re a kid? And what if you’re a kid who has heard it’s caused by climate change? Instead of avoiding the term climate change when talking to our kids, it’s becoming more important than ever. But there are some ways we can talk to them that are factual, don’t inspire fear, and even help empower them.
1) Present the facts without panic. Say something like “The weather is so much hotter than it’s been in the past because pollution we’re putting into the atmosphere is making the Earth warmer over many years.” Or for the air quality issues, “They are having bad wildfires in Canada and the smoke is blowing down here. It’s worse than usual because the spring was so dry. The climate is changing because of pollution we put in the atmosphere.”
2) Talk about what adults are doing to fix it. This is a big part of not sparking climate anxiety. Something like “Many adults are working to build and improve clean sources of energy that don’t make this pollution like solar and wind. Other people are pushing politicians to do even more to address the problem.” If they’re younger kids, you can point out what high schoolers and college students are doing. They feel like adults but not parental figures, which may have even more of a punch.
3) Involve your kids in making systemic change. Have them envision what a truly sustainable community would look like to them and how it’s different from your own community. Then have them write to local policy makers to tell them what they think of climate change and what they would like to change locally. This is really empowering! Check out the Cultivating Climate Justice At-Home Family Toolkit for a template and more ideas.
4) Find ways to live more sustainably in your own lives and explain the reasons behind it to your kids, like switching to solar or wind power, eating less meat, biking/walking/ taking public transit instead of driving, etc. This doesn’t replace systemic change though! Check out my book for tips (and tips on activism too).
5) Make meaning together in your actions. Find ways to be fulfilled through more environmentally friendly activities, whether that’s more time together, building relationships with neighbors or friends, more time in nature, writing stories or creating art, etc. This will be what makes your actions personally sustainable as well as environmentally sustainable!
“What’s that road named after?” my older son said, pointing to the road that his elementary school is named after. He was in his “asking questions about why things are named what they are” stage.
“I don’t know,” I said. “We can look it up.”
That’s how we found out his elementary school is named after an enslaver.
Kneeling on the bricks in our town square, my older son seemed to be attacking them with chalk. Intently focused, he was rubbing his blue piece of chalk onto a brick.
“I’m rage-chalking,” he informed me.
“Ah,” I said, now understanding. “Yes, that’s absolutely something you can do.” I nodded and went back to filling in my own squares.
I smiled as I saw my friend’s kindergartener running towards me waving the trans rights flag of pink, blue, and white. While she may have known what it stood for – her parents are supportive of trans folks – I suspect she was just happy to have a flag. But I was also heartened that the organization supporting LBGTQ+ youth had a prominent booth in-between the kids area and the carnival rides at our city’s big festival. It was impossible to miss, with all of the lovely rainbow decorations. When we stopped by the booth, we picked up a rainbow peace sign necklace.
Endless hurricanes, wildfires, and flooding; astronomically high prices and low wages; biodiversity collapse – is this the future you expect for your kids in 30 years? For many of us concerned about climate change and social inequality, it seems like the future is going to be pretty grim. Some people are even going so far to think we’re going to be living in something out of a dystopia SF novel (if we’re not already).
But while being prepared for a legit natural or human-caused disaster is a good thing, hunkering down in despair isn’t. Honestly, our children deserve for us to at least try to turn this ship in the right direction. No one wants to tell their kids, “We didn’t bother trying because what was the point?”
Watching our rabbit sniff and scratch at the floor, I wonder what he’s experiencing.
From reading Ed Yong’s brilliant book An Immense World, I know our rabbit’s sight alone is far different from ours. Rabbits don’t have the cone in their eyes that distinguishes between green and red, so they’re essentially red/green colorblind. Because their eyes are on the sides of their heads, they have much better peripheral vision than we do, but don’t see particularly well straight in front of them. And that’s just vision – his sense of smell and hearing is likely far different from mine in a way that’s hard to comprehend.
Yong talks about how we try to force our sensory experiences onto other animals and assume they experience the world how we do.
But the fact is, we do it with people too. I just have to put on my husband’s glasses to be reminded of how radically different the visual world is for him. (I have glasses too, but I merely get a headache without them – he can barely see a couple of feet in front of him.) Or watch my kids slosh the unicorn slime from hand to hand that touching it makes me shudder. While all humans have approximately the same sensory systems, we still have radically different experiences of how our bodies take in and process that information.
I didn’t expect to think of the Fraggles when reading about Indigenous perspectives on the environment, but that’s just how my brain works. Despite the weird connection, it gave me a new perspective on how I can treat holiday gifts and in fact, our whole community in the year to come.
“And make sure not to get Kelloggs,” I commented to my husband as we were putting together the grocery list.
“Why not Kellogg’s?” my older son said, looking up from his book.
“Well, the people who work for Kelloggs are on strike. That means they aren’t working because they want better work conditions, like better pay. Remember in Click Clack Moo: Cows that Type?” I explained, referencing a hilarious children’s book. In it, the cows and chickens go on strike and refuse to give the farmer eggs and milk until he gives them electric blankets. They use an old typewriter to express their concerns. We’ve read it a bunch of times.
“The house should be so much cleaner!” I think, panicked about my parents arriving any minute. That streak of panic occurs despite the fact that they know perfectly well that they’ve been the only people in our house since last March and that we’re not exactly the tidiest people by a long shot. Expectations are already low.
And yet I think this anyway. The self-judgment weighs hard, even when I push back against it. The hardest part is that I think this way about everything: cleaning, cooking, parenting, activism, writing, even taking care of myself. Perhaps worst of all, I suspect I’m not the only one.
