The Police and My 3 Year Old

I turned on the news this morning to see the update on the police ambush in downtown Dallas last night. As my 3 year old rides into the living room on his Mickey Mouse scooter, hair disheveled as usual, he can’t help but notice all the police cars. To preface, I’m usually not that parent that will sugarcoat everything for my kids. Obviously, there are certain things that a 3 year old mind doesn’t need to hear and we’re sensitive to that. But we try to be as honest as we can and I think it’s served us well, as it has led to some good, teachable moments. And if my boys, at times, need to learn the harsh realities of the world they will be handed, I’d rather they hear about it from me and my wife.

I can’t really put into words how difficult it is to explain to a 3 year old, why bad guys would want to hurt police officers. I think I simply said, “I don’t know, buddy.” What am I supposed to say? Do I start by trying to explain mental illness? Or begin with the very delicate intricacies of race relations or the tension in some areas between police and the community they serve? (A conversation many adults have a hard time having) Do we simply start by talking about real, smoldering hate? There’s no good way to explain all of this to someone that almost wets his pants in excitement when I mention candy or a new toy.

Now I’ll be the first to admit that I’m pretty hard on my boys, maybe too hard sometimes. Part of that may come from my job as I see more and more teenagers in the classroom, on the football and baseball field, that I would be mortified to call mine if I knew that they acted or treated people in ways I’ve witnessed. And the sheer laziness and entitlement is astounding at times. It’s not all but enough to make me want to be certain that that’s not my kids. Another part of that is, just like most parent, me wanting my kids to be a better person than I am.

But events like these make me take pause and second guess what I’m teaching my boys. I feel like I need to focus on more basic teachings instead of “Please’s” and “Thank you’s.” Instead of “Sir’s” and “Ma’am’s.” Instead of how to share well. Instead of how to use our words to express how we’re feeling because whining and hitting are not ok. It seems that the bar has been lowered to “Decency.” Just be decent. Should that be the standard that would make me proud when I reflect on the the type of adults my children have grown up to be? I can’t imagine telling my sons that I, as their father, have succeeded if they don’t shoot police officers or if they don’t murder an innocent person or if they don’t walk into an elementary school and open fire. “Just be a decent human, boys.” That can’t be it. That can’t be the legacy I leave to them. There has to be more. We have to do better than that.