What Dr. Seuss Can Teach Kids About Consent
When I was a child, my mom would on occasion make us kids a special breakfast of green eggs and ham. It magically merged worlds for me.聽The imaginary food from my book became a reality, right there on the table.
But a few decades later, as a preschool teacher, I read the beloved children鈥檚 story, Green Eggs and Ham, to a class of 15 wide-eyed and openhearted children, and began to feel a just a little uncomfortable. In the era of #MeToo, this story sounded less like a paean to trying new things and more like the script of coercion: If I keep asking, maybe you鈥檒l change your mind and actually really like what I want you to do.
Would you, could you on a boat? Would you, could you, in a moat?
I would not, could not, on a boat. I would not, could not, in a moat.
I do not like green eggs and ham. I do not like them, Sam I Am!
Thinking about what we had read, my co-teacher and I looked at each other grimacing. Should we have reviewed the book before introducing it? We decided right then to use it for an impromptu lesson in setting and respecting one another鈥檚 boundaries.
It was as simple as tossing out some questions to the children and opening the circle to a group discussion: How might Sam I Am鈥檚 friend be feeling? Have you ever been asked to do something you did not want to do? What was that like? What are some words and clear signals we can use when we would like someone to stop what they are doing to us or to someone else? Let鈥檚 review those together.
They soaked it in: Finally someone was asking them about their real-life, day-to-day experiences of being human.
The goal of our common work as committed allies of children was clear: to normalize empathy, respect, and healthy boundaries over coercion and violence. Every book, every game, every interaction, really, can be understood as an opportunity to practice honoring the full humanity and the full dignity of those around us.
It always seems like a small miracle when children as young as 3 rise to the occasion and thoughtfully participate in complex conversations around topics such as persuasion versus coercion, respect versus indignity. But maybe it shouldn鈥檛 surprise us.
Children, as 鈥渕inors鈥 and 鈥渄ependents,鈥 have a lot to negotiate when it comes to having their needs met and rising to the rules and expectations set by adults. The survivors of childhood violence and coercion have been coming forward with the same story: Not all adults know how to be good allies.
Sometimes those grown-ups haven鈥檛 done the work of processing their own trauma and mistakenly off-load it onto the children in their lives. In doing so, they鈥檝e perpetuated cycles of 鈥減ower over鈥 relationship dynamics, such as shame, punishment, and vindictive discipline, over 鈥減ower with鈥 practices, which include discussion, reflection, and teaching skills when mistakes are made. It鈥檚 this positive approach鈥攊f we can learn to draw from it鈥攖hat helps the children as they grow into young adults and face more challenging and complex situations where consent is on the line.
We have to put ourselves in their shoes, to find them where they are, facing social and emotional challenges.
Our classroom was a microcosm of society. Conflicts happened. Little Alicia, for instance, was having trouble asking for hugs from her friends. She鈥檇 come into the room and throw her arms around Little Sam.
Sam would push her away, she鈥檇 push back, and come at him again for a hug with greater force鈥攅ven a choke grip. There鈥檇 be more pushing, and then crying. How to intervene? It鈥檚 not enough to tell children to 鈥渦se their words,鈥 because, and we often forget, children don鈥檛 have words to use or know how to use them effectively until they get to practice.
So in our class, we used the opportunity to give a quick lesson on how to ask for a hug, and how to say, 鈥淣o, thank you鈥 or 鈥淵es, please,鈥 while also helping children feel secure and supported that their 鈥渘o鈥 would be heard and honored, without any risk to themselves or to the relationship. 鈥淗e said, 鈥楴o, thank you,鈥 so now let鈥檚 give him room to pass by.鈥
And it applies to their relationship with us, too. We can model healthy consent by removing any shame and humiliation when we tell children no. It鈥檚 a boundary, not a punishment. That way, we show that removing consent from an action does not mean removing our love.
Similarly as child allies, we offer children the option to tell us no (when it鈥檚 not a matter of safety) when, for example, we would like a hug and the child isn鈥檛 up for one. We invite them to share effective words and let them practice respectful boundaries, not just with other children, but with us.
To support and work with children to share values that we see severely lacking in society, we have to put ourselves in their shoes, to find them where they are, facing social and emotional challenges, and really see the world through their eyes. To really see them.
鈥淲e鈥檝e all been children once,鈥 Antoine de Saint- Exup茅ry wrote, 鈥渂ut few of us remember it.鈥 Remembering what it was like to be a child is not a call to maudlin sentimentality. It鈥檚 about remembering, as much and as far back as possible, what life was like: what frustrated us, held us back, or harmed us, so that we do not repeat the same patterns of behavior. What did we need then that we can offer the children in our lives now?
Stephanie Van Hook
is the executive director of the Metta Center for Nonviolence, author of Gandhi Searches for Truth: A Practical Biography for Children, and host of Nonviolence Radio. Find all this at mettacenter.org.聽
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