Tag Archives: judgement

Teach Your Children. . . Well

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I am getting so damned sick of having to bandage shaving wounds I inflict upon myself with gauze and medical tape to stop the bleeding, then having to go back to clean up scenes reminiscent of Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho in my shower.  This is what I get for having epiphanies while holding a razor so near to my ankle.

But this time, it’s worth it.  I haven’t had words for a very long time, they had literally gone, but thanks to a friend of mine (whom shall be henceforth known simply as The Muse, she has inspired so much that matters in what I write) and a conversation we had, I have something important to say, and I know how to say it.

So sit down and listen, because when Mama Ruby talks like this, those who fail to pay attention do so at their own peril.

Now I am going to say one word, and I’ll only say it once, so you will not turn away because you are over-saturated-sick-to-death of reading and hearing about it:  Steubenville.

SIT.  BACK.  DOWN.

That’s not what I’m going to talk about, not directly.  A lot of people have already done a much better job than I ever could, and I’ll provide some links at the bottom for those who are interested.

But, as it would turn out, I have something to say related to this that hasn’t yet shown up on my radar as having been discussed.  And if it has, it bears repeating.  Mothers, fathers, aunts, uncles, grandparents, anyone who is raising children, this matters.

I’m going to tell you how to talk your children about sex, and how not to.  I don’t mean I’m going to give you my value system, so you in the back there, getting up?  Yes, I see you.  Sit.

I had a conversation some time ago with a child of mine.*  I’m going to withhold all details of which one out of respect to her.  She’s old enough to be talking about sex (I think nowadays kids start doing that at preschool, right?), but what popped out of her mouth that day floored me.  It was a remark that came from some of her friends about rape, and if it hadn’t gotten me so livid, the subject matter probably would have taken me a bit by surprise.

The comment was how “such-and-such” behavior meant boys were going to rape her, if she didn’t do it differently.  Again, not mine to share, also not the point.  I got so whipped into a frenzy by this, I gave her the “doesn’t matter what you wear, do, if you’re drunk, etc.” and moved on and on, performing my denouement somewhere around, “I don’t care if you are lying naked on a bed, with a man you have had sex with hundreds of times before, I don’t care if he’s your husband, if you say no, he has no right.“

She got a little quiet by the end of my soliloquy — and I mean in demeanor, she never breaks in on me when I “get like that”, which isn’t very often.  In fact, she smiled a little inside.  Being able to read her, I can tell you it is exactly why she mentioned it, consciously or not.  She knew, but she needed the kind of fiery hot rage of reassurance that only Mama Ruby can provide.

She has good parents.  Wonderful parents.  And I guarantee that they have talked to her about sex.  Rape?

Here’s the thing, my loves.  I don’t believe in an abstinence only approach.  I also don’t believe that every child should be given condoms at a certain age.  I believe that if you are raising a child, you should absolutely do your best to instill your values into them (unless your values are really messed up, in which case you shouldn’t be raising a child and God help them).

But.

Your children are going to grow up, and they’re probably going to do some things you don’t agree with.  And even if they don’t, the odds are extremely high that they’ll have something done to them.  Every parent has that worst nightmare, and so do I, and every parent says, “not my child”.  That second thing I hope and I pray with everything in me, but I don’t say it blindly.  In the United States, one out of every six women has been the victim of an attempted or completed rape in her lifetime.**

Here is where the conversation parents have with their children needs undergo a seismic shift.  Because we live in a rape culture, that is a fact.  It’s an ugly one, and one that needs to change, but I’m not dealing in what “should be” right now, I’m dealing in the ugly reality of what is.

Parents, when you talk with your daughters (and sons) about sex, if you tell them to wait for marriage, if that is fundamental to your beliefs, I support you wholeheartedly.  With two caveats.  And to clarify, the second caveat applies to whatever stance you take when you talk with your kids, so those of you who have no problem with pre-marital sex, back in your seats.

The first is that you do not ever use the words “wrong”, “bad”, “immoral” or even “sin” when you do it.  That isn’t going to change the mind of a child/young adult/teenager/adult when they have decided to explore sex outside of the bonds of marriage.  I know, I’m sorry, it hurts to hear that, but it just isn’t.  What it is going to do is plant a deep seed of shame within them.  Such that if they are ever molested, raped, or sexually assaulted in any way, they’re going to be that much more hesitant to come forward and talk to you.  After all, if sex outside of marriage is so bad and wrong and sinful, then they must be bad and sinful, too.  Think what that does to someone who has just been horribly traumatized.

Don’t tell me it doesn’t work like that, either.  You expect them to listen when you say don’t have sex before marriage, but not remember all the other things you said when someone forces sex upon them against their will, their want, the very beliefs you have instilled?  Uh-uh.  No way.  You can’t have both.

Which brings us to caveat number two.  When you talk to your daughters and sons about sex, talk to them about sexual assault and rape, too.  I know.  Really big and really scary and my guts are churning just thinking of how to broach it.  But bite the damned bullet and do it.  Make sure that whether or not you think sex should only occur in marriage, when you teach your child about sex, you also teach them that if they are raped, if they are attacked in any way, it is never their fault.  That even if they have broken every rule you have ever made for them, if they have had sex before, if they were out drunk partying, I don’t care, doesn’t matter, they can come back and tell you what happened and you will support them with all of your heart.  And follow through on that.

If, God forbid, your daughter should come stumbling in at three a.m., clothes a mess, sobbing, and tell you she was assaulted, don’t ask what she was doing out, don’t ask her where she got that dress that’s so short.  Sit down with her and tell her that you love her and will do anything she needs you to.  I can’t tell you what that may be.  Maybe the foundation you laid will be enough to help her want to call 911 and report it.  Maybe she won’t be able to do that, and it won’t be anyone’s fault but the scum who put her in such a state.  But at least she’ll know that you have her back 110%, that you don’t think she’s “bad” or “sinful”, and that you want to do whatever you can to help her.

And, sadly, even that won’t make her magically feel better, like when you used to be able to kiss a bump and make it go away.  But it may make it easier for her to see herself as a worthwhile, valuable, beautiful human being once again.

*For those who don’t know, I have no children of my own.  I do have several “daughters of my heart” that I used to care for and still consider “mine”.

**Source:  RAINN | Rape, Abuse and Incest National Network

Relevant Reads:
I’m angry | Meizac
The Wrong Message | The Bad Luck Detective (trigger warning)

And if you read nothing else, please read this piece:
Steubenville’s Jane Doe asked people to do something…

© Ruby Tuesday and I Was Just Thinking. . . 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ruby Tuesday and I Was Just Thinking. . . with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. This work is protected under a Creative Commons Attribution-Non-Commercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Human Frailty

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“There are also those people that think every woman should have a child and will eventually want one.” ~ Melissa

This completely struck a note in me, which probably won’t surprise anyone who knows me or has read this blog more than twice.  What likely will surprise is why it struck a note, and which note it was.

As far as all women wanting children – I actually agree that with very, very rare exceptions, this statement is completely and utterly true (surprise!) –  at its most basic level, before we get into finer points and specifics.  I think women (and men, as well) all pretty much have a time when they think about how much they want a child.  That’s totally irrelevant.  The finer points and specifics are what matter.  Devil in the details.

For some women, this desire happens when they see another woman with a child and the feeling lingers, or doesn’t.  For others, it happens when they’re shit-faced and melancholy at a bar and either passes by the time the next round is served, or is transformed into sheer terror when they wake up the following morning next to some strange guy.  This terror has a more predictable lifespan than the feeling which occasioned it, lingering on average from 24 hours to 28 days (give or take), depending on their general knowledge of female biology and the specific biology of their particular female organs.

There are women who have wanted babies ever since they were babies, who were ‘born to be mothers.’  There are women who never wanted babies until they looked at the face of the one they had carried for nine months.  There are women who don’t want the babies they already are pregnant with, until they are gone.  And there are women who want their babies more than anything – until they are outside the uterus, demanding to be fed or changed or taken to the mall or protected or loved.

Oh boy.  In case you’re slow or new, this is definitely going to be one of those posts.

What the hell has wanting got to do with it, anyway?  Aside, of course, from being the impetus to something that could go anywhere from wonderfully to horrifically but in all cases is inevitably life-altering.

I bet when you were about a year old, you found a shiny pre-1982 penny and you really wanted to stick that thing in your mouth and suck the hell out of it.  I know I must have at some point, because I still fondly remember the taste of copper on my tongue.  No, seriously.  I don’t know what it is with little kids finding things that are small and shiny and immediately deciding they belong in their mouths.  There’s probably some scientific link in the undeveloped brain to the tune of, ‘It looks good, so it must taste good.  It’s even handily bite-sized!’  Or more likely it has something to do with exploring newly discovered items in the environment with all of our primitive senses.

So would you say your parents were using good judgment if they had watched you discover that shiny pre-1982 penny, pick it up, examine it, stick it in your tiny mouth, and suck on it, without once trying to stop you or take the penny out of your mouth?   You wouldn’t?  (As for me, I was a sneaky little thing and I’m sure my mom fished the thing out the moment she caught me, because my parents are perfect!)

And I know that some of you, when you got older (let’s put the ballpark range at 12 and up, because I cannot traumatize myself anymore at this moment and 12 is really traumatic enough), wanted to know what the big deal was about having sex/smoking meth/binge drinking so you tried it, quite possibly more than just once, and now wish that you had either waited until you were older or never done it at all.

But you’re all grown up and you understand consequences now, and you’ve never done something in your whole adult life simply because you wanted to that you didn’t realize you really shouldn’t have later.

Who’s kidding whom here?

A woman can want a child for all her life and be a terrible mother.  A woman can want a child for that same time period and be an excellent one.  A woman can never want to have children and be a fantastic mom.  Same as above, she can turn out to be like Mommie Dearest.  She can waffle about her decision to have or not have children until she is dead, and it is very seldom directly related to the kind of mother she is or isn’t.

Doesn’t wanting children just strike you as such a compellingly good rationale for actually having them now?

Moral of the story:  I already warned you about the pennies in another post, so I’ll stick with the obvious.  No wire hangers.  ;)

© Ruby Tuesday and I Was Just Thinking. . . 2011. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ruby Tuesday and I Was Just Thinking. . . with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. This work is protected under a Creative Commons Attribution-Non-Commercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.