Raising kids who have the courage to really care
By Milena Batanova
Director of Research and Evaluation, Making Caring Common
NOTE: This post was written by Milena Batanova, Director of Research and Evaluation at Making Caring Common. The post reflects Milena’s personal thoughts and is not meant to represent the views or opinions of Making Caring Common or the Harvard Graduate School of Education.
Whether we seek it out or not, whether we like it or not, some piece of news likely enters our orbit at least once a day. And these days, unless we’re intentionally seeking out cat videos or babies giggling to change up our algorithm, we’re quite constantly inundated with what feels like doom-and-gloom type content.
The Cornell case really stopped me in my tracks. I saw one news article and four hours later I was down the rabbit hole at 2 am. What do you mean Cornell had them write essays? Why did only two get expelled? What happened to her in the two years between the first allegation and now the civil case? How. Is. This. Still. Happening???
I had so many questions (and I still do) as more digital evidence has come out, yet the news cycle seems to have moved on.
But as parents, we never really move on. We carry these stories with us because they surface our own worries and fears about our children and the culture we live in. They’re reminders of the people our own children could become, the people they might encounter, and the moments when they’ll have to decide what kind of person they want to be.
It’s easy to feel jaded or hopeless in the face of it all. Through much intention and practice, though, the Cornell case hasn’t left me feeling that way. Not even when some friends—parents, too—questioned the allegations and made some remarks I vehemently disagree with. (We’re still friends, though.)
If anything, it reminded me that raising good, caring children means more than teaching them to be kind and respectful. Serious kindness means acting in ways that benefit others at some real cost to ourselves. But it’s all too easy to conflate kindness with being polite: opening the door for someone, not cutting in line, saying please and thank you. All good and necessary social mores, but not really all that costly. The hard part is teaching our kids what to do when values are tested–when a friend behaves cruelly, or when speaking up risks being unpopular.
Consent is a well-known issue; I think the Cornell case is about so much more. It’s about caring to care in the first place, and what it means to have moral courage. I want my children to grow up outraged by such behavior. I want my girl to know her boundaries matter, and I want my boy to understand and respect boundaries. Ultimately, I want both of them to be socially aware and brave enough to speak up or step in to do the right thing.
I can't (nor do I actually want to) protect my children from all the malice they'll encounter, or teach them everything they need to know. But I can try to live these values myself, model them as often as I can, talk about them without fear or reservation, and provide opportunities that build the skills for courage.
So what does this actually look like? How can I still have hope?
Based on my own varied personal experiences, as well as applied research I’ve done on bystander intervention, here are some strategies we can put into practice. While none is a guarantee, of course, we must put in the intention and effort. Because moral courage–like all capacities, really–isn’t simply something kids either have or don’t have. It’s something that can be cultivated.
When they’re younger: Build the foundations
Talk. Talk. Talk. Talk about different ways to show empathy, or to understand and care for the needs and feelings of others, especially when it’s hard. This strategy from MCC encourages parents to use stories to help kids develop empathy. When you read books, watch movies, or hear about something that happened at school or beyond, ask questions like: What do you think that person should have done? What could they have done if they were scared to speak up? We do this so often at my house that my son now poses questions to us, and we have so many deep conversations.
Practice small acts of caring. If a child is clearly left out of a game, someone is being repeatedly teased, or a friend is treated unfairly, there are small ways children can show they care: invite the child to join, say that joke isn’t funny, or tell a trusted adult. Here’s one of my favorite strategies at MCC. It breaks down caring into three types of caring acts: at home, while outside or with other people, and in the bigger world. We need to encourage (as naturally as possible) children to practice these acts and to praise them periodically (“You’re such a great helper”) when they do, so they come to see themselves as caring people.
Help them build friendships around shared values, not just shared interests. Of course I want my kids to have friends they go to school with or have activities with, but I also want them to learn what makes a really good friend no matter where they live. Are they genuinely kind? Can they be funny but still respect boundaries? Do they own up to their mistakes? Sometimes the people we love, or we want to get to know, live far away, or go to a different school, or like different things. That means going the extra mile (literally) to make time for those friends and sustain the really good friendships. I want my children to understand that good friendship isn’t just about who lives close by or who likes the same things as you; it’s also about really good people and making time for them.
When they’re older: Prepare them for intervening
Rehearse what to do when stakes are higher. We all know most things are easier said than done. It’s one thing for a teen to hear, “stand up for what’s right”; it’s a whole other to actually be able to do it in real-time. So I’d talk through scenarios before they (or versions of them) happen. How could you respond if a friend makes a misogynistic joke? What can you do if you see classmates messing with a girl? What if a group chat turns cruel? Good options include: make it clear, “That’s really not OK”; interrupt what’s happening and check in with the person being targeted; refuse to participate and say why. I know it varies by situation, and sometimes teens need to learn from each other, but in serious situations, always report to a trusted adult…and follow up to see if anything was done.
Make loyalty mean looking out for others, not covering up. Research on bystander intervention shows that young people are more likely to be upstanders or defenders if they feel confident in themselves or if they think their peers would support intervention. We need a culture change, but we also can’t wait around for it to happen; we are part of culture change every day. So to build confidence, I recommend being firm that they are, in fact, capable and that their actions do matter. Even if they think no one will do anything, at least they will. A teenager who believes their friends will back them up is also in a much better position than one who expects to be mocked or ignored. So also encourage the right kind of friends, the ones who’d also intervene or who’d at least be supportive of it rather than lie about what happened.
None of this means I expect my kids to get it right every time, or many of the times. Heck, I don’t. But all we can do is keep trying and—this is also very, very important—maintain compassion for those who don’t get it right either. We shouldn’t write people off who we think aren’t acting with courage, nor should we be so righteous as to think our notion of “the right thing” is always right. I want my kids to learn to hold themselves and others to high standards without losing sight of our shared humanity, or the possibility that we can all learn and change for the better.
That’s the kind of kindness I want them to practice.
