My 8-year-old made a travel team. He’s the first of the kids to make one and although Davis has played with travel teams, this is a whole new experience. So far, one I really like. However we spend a great deal of time taking Drew to practice. I’m not complaining, I am happy for him and happy to drive him there. And I am also grateful for the time it’s given me with my oldest son. Davis is still waiting for his travel ball email so, he tags along and offers to help Drew’s coaches. He’d like to help more but he’s still learning bravery and how to offer his treasures. He loves baseball, probably more than I do. He loves to help and he loves being parts of bigger things. He’s smart and kind.
There has been a lot of hoopla, no that’s not the right word… there has been a lot of outrage about Brock Turner. Outrage that I feel and agree with and I found myself needing to talk to my kids about something awful and terrible and that we shouldn’t even have questions about. Telling Devlynn that being raped is NEVER the woman’s fault but to not put herself in situations where it could happen. I say things like, “Please don’t drink so much you black out, never let your drink cup out of your sight, always go in groups.. you’re safer in groups.” The talk with my female child seemed more fluid and easy. It’s feels more normal to tell my daughter about the villains of the world than to teach my son about it. Horrible as it may sound, the talk with my son was much harder.
Davis wanted to make cupcakes last night. I’m always happy to do these things with him. Soon he’ll be as busy as his sister and won’t want to or have time to make cupcakes with me. So I taught him how to properly level flour and explained why in baking you have to be “perfect” or the cake won’t work. We tried an egg free recipe, just to see how it would work after I realized that I didn’t have instant coffee for the originally selected recipe. It was nice.
I asked him if he’d heard anything about the swimmer in trouble. He shook his head no. And I asked him if he knew what rape was. And he said yes. And I told him, in brief what happened to this young woman and how no always means no and passed out always means no. We talked about how sex is something that should only happen between agreeing and mature partners and that sometimes you say yes and mean no and it’s hard and complicated and best to wait until you’re really truly old enough and mature enough to know you mean yes and aren’t just saying no because of pressure or insecurity. Fun topics over cupcakes.
He nodded mostly and squirmed a lot and finally said, “anyone who does that to a girl or a boy is gross. It’s just gross”. He then wiped the smudged chocolate off his beautiful face. I smiled, hoping he never changes from the kind, caring and knowing boy he is. And he pretty much summed it up right there. Rape is gross. It’s gross.
I feel for that girl and pray for him and his family. They’ve obviously got deep and disturbing issues and need all the praying they can get. But mostly I think about our kids and all the crap they have to learn about these days. Never in a million years did I think that I would have to education my child on why it’s wrong to rape unconscious people or send nude photos through GroupMe or any other social media outlet. It’s disgusting what the world has come to… full of entitled and heartless brats. Who take precious things like that without so much as an afterthought. We’re doing something wrong. Our village is failing. When a father labels a rape as “20 minutes of action”, our village is utterly failing.
Today he’ll probably have “forgotten” what I said yesterday. He’ll hopefully have tucked it into the back of his head and will remember that no means no and never ever do that to someone. I hope he will be the boy who will pull the girl (or boy) to safety. In these situations, in bullying situations. I hope he is brave. Always brave. I hope he will always be a hero and never a villain. We have too many villains now a days. Please son, please be a hero. Thank you for always being a hero.