Why Teaching Girls to Stay Safe Isn't the Right Conversation

THE FULL STORY

My soon-to-be 15-year-old has had Instagram for a few months. We have rules around it—she’s not allowed to have a public account, her followers have to be people she knows in real life, I have to follow her and I have to have her login information (I’ve never used it, but just in case). She also has to get my actual, facially recognized approval to download anything on her phone, so here’s hoping I’m covering my bases. (She’s also a really responsible kid and we’ve had many chats about keeping yourself safe online, but I know—you never know.)

I say all of this because I didn’t think much would catch me off guard when it comes to her account. She usually posts adorable collages of her friends for their birthdays, reposts stuff from the clubs she belongs to at school and uses the word “GOAT” like it's a verb pretty much daily. So it surprised me last week when I tapped on her IG stories and saw that she had shared a number of posts about the Cornell 7 case. I was proud—and also sort of fascinated—that she understood what the case was about, the atrocities committed, the significance of what had happened and that she’d reposted intelligent reflections from credible sources. (This is what happens when your mother is a journalist and never shuts up about not believing everything you see and hear.)

When she got home from choir after school that day, I asked her about it. It went something like this:

“Soph, your stories were really interesting. You picked smart things to share.”

“I had to share something. It was only right. Do you know what those men did to that girl?”

“I do know. I’ve read a lot about it now.”

“She wasn’t much older than me, when you think about it.”

“I know, sweets. It’s really sad, and scary to think about.”

“Why are they calling her Jane Doe?”

“To protect her identity. I think that's common when sexual assault is the charge. But in this case in particular, it’s sort of having a galvanizing effect.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means every woman can see themselves in her, because pretty much every woman has had some sort of unwanted or uncomfortable or violent experience with a man or a group of men, to varying degrees.”

“Even you?”

“Even me.”

“That sucks.”

“It really, really does.”

The Question I Wasn't Expecting

She got quiet then. And I went on to tell her that she doesn’t need to be afraid, but she does need to be careful and aware. That she should make sure she’s never alone at a party or out with friends when she’s older, that she should always leave with someone she trusts and that she should never leave a drink unattended. All the things we’ve been telling girls for what feels like forever, even though the burden of preventing violence should never rest on their shoulders.

She listened intently, my astute girl, and then said, “Okay, I get it. But what are they teaching the boys? Why aren’t we teaching them that all of this is wrong? Why do they get to say stuff about our bodies and our clothes?” (Apparently she was really paying attention.)

And that, my friends, is the question we all need the answer to, and something this generation of parents can actually do something about.

What We're Teaching the Next Generation

It might seem strange to look at your toddler or school-aged son and think, “I’m going to teach you to protect women” or “I’m going to teach you to be the one who intervenes,” but maybe we need to think about it a little differently. It's not about raising boys to protect girls; it's about raising children who see one another as equals and understand that nobody is entitled to disrespect or harm someone else. Even our youngest kids need to know that we stand up for and look out for each other, and that respecting another person's boundaries is non-negotiable.

It’s not enough to teach kids to keep themselves safe. Of course that’s important, but when we also teach them to safeguard the people around them, that’s when we have a chance at real, lasting change. All children benefit from learning about consent, respect, empathy and the responsibility we have to one another.

It won’t happen with just the odd family here and there hammering home the message, either. It needs to be a concerted, widespread effort, supported by families, schools and communities around the world. And it needs to start long before our kids are old enough to understand the headlines that prompted this conversation in the first place.

How to Start the Conversation When Kids Are Young

Of course you don't have to sit your four-year-old down for a serious conversation about sexual violence to start teaching the lessons that will help prevent it. In fact, the groundwork begins with small, everyday interactions that can teach kids little by little. Here are some of the ways you can start to introduce these important concepts:

Teach bodily autonomy early. Let children know that their bodies belong to them and that other people have the same right to decide what happens to theirs. Don't insist on hugs or kisses for relatives, and teach kids to ask before touching someone else. When a friend says they don't want to be hugged, tickled or chased, that means stop. These are the building blocks of consent.

Make respect part of everyday conversations. When children tease someone, exclude a classmate or dismiss another child's feelings, use it as an opportunity to talk about how their behaviour affects other people. Help them recognize when someone is uncomfortable, even if that person hasn't said so directly. Respect isn't just about following rules; it's about recognizing that other people's feelings matter as much as our own.

Challenge the idea that boys and girls are supposed to behave differently. Phrases like “boys will be boys” can excuse behaviour we shouldn't tolerate from anyone. And when being compared to a girl is treated as an insult, it sends a message about whose interests, abilities and identities we value. We should be just as comfortable with boys who love traditionally feminine things as we are with girls who love traditionally masculine ones. Boys should be encouraged to express their feelings, show tenderness and ask for help, just as girls should be encouraged to speak up, set boundaries and stand their ground. None of these qualities belongs to one gender.

Teach kids to speak up when something isn't right. Young children can learn what it means to stand up for someone without putting themselves in danger. If a classmate is being bullied, excluded or treated unfairly, they can offer support, help that child remove themselves from the situation or tell a trusted adult. As they grow, those lessons can become conversations about peer pressure, harassment and intervening safely.

Model the behaviour you want to see. Kids notice how adults treat one another. They hear the jokes we laugh at, the comments we let slide and the way we talk about other people's bodies and relationships. They also notice when we apologize, respect someone's boundaries or challenge behaviour that isn't okay. The lessons we're teaching are only as effective as the examples we're setting.

Keep the conversation going. This isn't a one-time talk that can be checked off a parenting to-do list. Use age-appropriate moments in books, movies, friendships and everyday life to ask children how they think someone might be feeling or what they could do to help.

Of course none of this guarantees that our children will always make the right choices, and no single person or family can change an entire culture. But raising kids who understand these fundamentals and who are willing to speak up when something is wrong is a pretty important place to start.

And maybe someday, if enough of us raise children who see girls and boys as equals, who respect one another and who understand that nobody deserves to feel unsafe, mothers won't have to teach their daughters to keep their keys between their fingers and stick to well-lit streets if they ever find themselves alone in the dark.