Explaining the Unexplainable; School Shootings

We had another school shooting here in Denver this week. Memories of the Columbine nightmare lie just below the surface in this part of the country, even eleven years later. Thankfully, the two middle-schoolers who were wounded are expected to recover from their injuries. I can't begin to fathom what goes through a deranged person's mind when they set out to harm kids, or anyone for that matter. Regardless of where you stand on the issue of gun rights and the place of firearms in today's society, how you talk to children about tragedies like this is intimidating.

With our two boys, I try to be candid without being alarming. Bad things happen to good people and that's a part of this world I'd like to protect them from. I know these truths; (1) I can't protect them forever, and (2) keeping them from reality wouldn't serve them well in the long run.

The basic tenets of fatherhood are the best guide when you're faced with explaining the unexplainable to your kids. Be honest and ask lots of questions to understand how they're feeling. Remember that kids own their emotions just like adults do. What they feel and believe is real to them, and it's never a father's place to try and convince a child to feel differently.

Passing Passion Along to Your Kids

Terry and I made this deal when we were married, long before we had kids. We would raise the boys as Catholics (I'm Jewish and grew up in a family where the identity of religion had far more clout than the practice of religion) if I could raise them in my personal faith. The religion of the Fenway Faithful; raising them as Red Sox fans. The boys were both born here in Denver and in their early years were willing adherents to my allegiances. Now that they're in school and routintely exposed to influences outside the house, they're picking up some bad habits.

When I root for my teams (The Red Sox and the Buffalo Bills) the boys are quick to remind me that as Colorado natives, they could care less about my roots. Both Nick and Chris are dyed-in-the-wool Broncos (football) and Rockies (baseball) fans. In fact, not only do they cheer for those teams, they actively cheer against my teams. It's as if they are conspiring to derail my sports addicted dreams. In spite of this rebellion, I secretly love the fact that they care. To have a rooting interest in sport, and thus a community, is a wonderful passion that my Dad passed along to me.

I've learned that being a fan of your kids and their interests is far more important than if they are a fan of your interests. If my sons' passion were directed toward skateboarding (it is) or ballet (it isn't) then as long as they pursued that interest with the willingness to experiment, fail and succeed, I would support their passion as I would support my own.

Hmmm. My Dad is a Yankee fan. I'm sure he'd say that the chickens are coming home to roost. Good luck in the World Series, Dad. And I mean that sincerely.