I’ve spent a lot of time in these columns railing against the blame heaped almost exclusively on moms. When a kid acts up—or even just acts like a kid—moms get the stink-eye. From other moms whose kids are being better behaved at that moment. From moms whose kids did the exact same annoying thing yesterday. From women who don’t have children. From men. From everyone who was once themselves a child which includes pretty much all of us. Everyone has a sideways glance or a snide comment ready. Because when a child misbehaves, the assumption is always that mom dropped the ball.
If a toddler forgets to say “thank you,” mom has been too permissive. If a four-year-old shyly whispers gratitude, mom’s raising a pushover who’ll be snatched away by strangers. It’s the quintessential no-win scenario. And walking off the field isn’t an option either. You don’t get to quit parenting in the seventh inning.
When junior is graduated at the top of their class or throws a no-hitter in the playoffs, mom’s endless sacrifices over the years don’t get mentioned. But if that same kid cuts class or lights a cigarette, it’s all mom’s fault.
Years ago, when times were less judgmental—or maybe just less loud—loving parents did the best we could. We still do. Only now we’re fighting new battles, many of them beyond our experience. Cyber-bullying. Real-world bullying. Mean teachers. Lax teachers. Friends with bad judgment. Friends with worse judgment. Too much sun. Not enough sun. Every danger has its own anxious parent committee. Just thinking about all the recent barrage of threats to our beloved kids makes me nervous.
The difference is that today the monster under the bed is real. The bad guy’s not a bedtime story. He’s in the house. He’s downstairs. He’s coming up.
The bad guy of previous generations–a stranger offering a lollypop from a car–statistically didn’t exist. Abusers were invariably trusted relatives. And these horrific incidents are on the decline. What we worried about a couple generations ago–a broken bone from falling off a bicycle or out of a tree–seem laughable now.
In 2024, one in four kids experienced or witnessed a shooting. That should have been enough to keep any parent up at night worrying. In 2025 some kids have to worry about being taken from their homes and sent to places where they don’t speak the language, don’t know anyone, and aren’t sure if they’ll ever get to come back to the only home they’re ever known. Imagine: on Monday, your child is fretting about college applications. On Tuesday, they’re wondering if someone in a uniform is coming to snatch them. And if they themselves are not the target, their friend could very well be on the list. Or their parent. And then what? Will your child have the courage to stand up to someone “just doing their job”? That’s a lot to ask of a seventeen-year-old. Of anyone really.
Perhaps there is a sliver of light in all this darkness. Adversity can build strength. Kids who worry about their friends or grandparents being deported may become more compassionate, more bonded to their families. Watching adults stand up for them—really stand up—can leave a lasting impression. I’ve spoken to teachers who are resolute: “Before ICE takes my students, they’ll have to go through me.”
At the Parkland shooting in my home state of Florida, Coach Aaron Feis did more than talk. He took bullets for his students. Coach Feis shielded his charges with his body, with his life. That kind of bravery is impossible to overstate.
It’s tragic that educators today have to take time away from trigonometry and Othello to teach children how to hide from gunmen. But teaches accept this added responsibily. Because someone has to.
It has been said that we are living in a time beyond parody, that no more exaggerations are possible. To that point, a four-year-old child undergoing cancer treatment was deported a few weeks ago. It’s the kind of detail that defies burlesque. There’s nothing left to exaggerate when real life headlines sound like a bad satire. Next time I have a cold and have to drive to the drug store for medications I will think of this pre-schooler without life-saving cancer medication.
And next time I see a kid yank the bottom can from a grocery store pyramid, I won’t excuse or approve bad behavior. But I also won’t smugly compare that child to my own. Instead, I’ll remember that our children are not just products of our parenting. They are also products of our culture. A culture where Aaron Feis chose to step in front of bullets. A culture where raising emotionally and physically safe children has never felt more difficult and precarious.
