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I was playing with my children chasing, tickling, hiding, tumbling. I get attacked quite often. I am not innocent of launching an attack. We get all twisted up and stuck. Pinned, Edison was squealing. I had him wrapped up and vulnerable. I believe I was threatening to eat him up. He would not give up his nose. He would not give up that dimple on his cheek. I tried for an ear, no. I was just going to have to dive right in. I started nuzzling him in the nook of his neck. He said, “No, no, no! Stop it Daddy!” so I stopped.
“When you say stop, I’ll stop. If anyone says ‘stop’ to you, you stop.”
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I said, “When you say stop, I’ll stop. If anyone says ‘stop’ to you, you stop.” My mind flashing forward to my son older, stronger, eager, lusting. Flashing to the “20 minutes of action” behind a dumpster I was sickened. I hope that core lesson starts to sink in. As a habit, he will know when enough is enough. Not only will he know how to protect himself better; he will also know how to respect others who say no.
◊♦◊
I thought about how I got here. A father, raising a strong, confident, sassy daughter and a silly, loving and sweet son. I thought about my past romances. How come I never forced myself on women? Did I? Maybe I do not even know it. Maybe my parents taught me right from wrong. Maybe my father modeled a gentle touch with his surgeon’s hands. Perhaps my mom commanded respect for women in her strong presence. Or was it that my sisters set the expectations. It may have been that my brothers taught me that they could be stronger than me? How and when did I begin teaching my son in a way so that he would not rape or assault someone?
It started early. I remember holding him gingerly as a newborn. I remember when he first discovered our cat, and we modeled “gently” hand over hand softly brushing her fur. Showing him how to have a gentle touch. I remember washing my children. Answering questions about the names of their body parts. Telling my daughter that no one is to touch her there. It’s private. She is old enough now, and she washes herself and reminds me that I do not even need to touch her there anymore. We have no secrets because secrets hurt people’s feelings when they are discovered. But we like surprises. Surprises make us happy.
◊♦◊
I hope I model in all my words and actions every day, with my son how to treat his mother, my wife, and his sister with the love and care that humanity is capable of showing. I love to see him laugh and be silly. He also needs to know when it is time to be calm. When it’s time to be gentle. Toddlers will explore the limits of their physical abilities. It is how they learn and grow. So when he hits me, or when he throws something haphazardly, I react in a way to show that it hurts. I cover my face and whimper. He used to laugh about it. Now he comes over to check on me. He has become more gentle. I cannot remember the last time he threw something haphazardly (sorry about the lamp, mama) or hit me thinking it was funny. Because it is not. Assault is not funny. Sexual assault is not funny.
What happens in public starts in private.
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Edison turned three years old on July 1st. Soon he will be thirteen, twenty-three, thirty-three and beyond. What happens in public starts in private. All fathers (and mothers, and brothers, and sisters, and aunts, and uncles, grandparents, friends, and neighbors) are responsible for modeling and teaching our children to be heroes and advocates. Proactive bystanders, keepers of our children, guardians young and old. How do we prevent future assaults? Before they can be heroes, they must have a sense of self and others and a sense of self-control and restraint. They need to know when to stop. Better yet. They need to know how not to start.
◊♦◊
I do not even know your name, but your courage brought me to light. Thankfully, I am not too late with my son. And somehow I knew some things to do early on to help my son grow to be the kind of man we wish him to be. Now is the time to be more vigilant. Now is the time to tune into all the subtle cues my son takes from my actions and language. If I want my son to be an arrogant chauvinist, then that is the way I should act. If I want my son to be a confident, compassionate man who respects women no matter what, then I must be one.
Fathers, husbands, boyfriends, and brothers – mind how you speak to the women around you. Mind how you conduct yourself. Our boys are watching.
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This article was originally posted on the author’s Facebook page and is republished on Medium.
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Excellent insight! Very well thought out and very well written. Bravo!