No other member of the household does this.
Care and Feeding is Slate’s parenting advice column. Have a question for Care and Feeding? Submit it here.
Dear Care and Feeding,
My 7-year-old is an at-home nudist. She isn’t like this in public (e.g., she prefers to use a private stall when changing at the pool), but she has always felt comfortable enough around my husband and me to leave her room naked in the middle of changing her clothes because she needs to ask us something, or to find a toy. I haven’t cared much about the nudity, but I’ve started wondering when and how I should tell her that she needs to stop before she starts puberty. I don’t want her to feel like there’s something wrong with her body, now or ever, but I know it will get pretty uncomfortable before long. My husband and I don’t spend time naked in front of our daughter—it’s just her. How should I/we approach this?
—Birthday Suit
Dear Suit,
Don’t approach the subject at all—it isn’t necessary. Telling her in advance that “before she starts puberty” she should knock off the nakedness is a sure-fire way to let her know that there’s something wrong with her body (or that there will be, in a matter of years). Let her be. She already knows the difference between out-in-the-world and at-home. How do you suppose she figured that out?
It seems to me that if she feels at ease running around the house naked, you’ve done a good job up to now of not making her feel self-conscious. Don’t undo that work. And in any case, chances are that at some point—at an age between 10 and 13—she’ll develop her own self-consciousness about nudity in front of her parents right alongside all the changes in her body. For better or for worse, that sort of self-consciousness is a developmental stage. There’s no reason to rush that. (And in the exceedingly unlikely event that she does not become a self-conscious tween, and the sight of her unclothed body unnerves you and/or your husband, just tell her then that you would be more comfortable if everybody kept their clothes on. If she asks you why, tell her the truth: There’s nothing wrong with her, her body, or her nakedness. It’s you—you’re the [I don’t mean this critically or cruelly, just as factual] problem.)
Dear Care and Feeding,
I’m a white single mom and my 13-year-old daughter, “Mila” (also white) is working on a comic with a diverse cast (about half to three-quarters of the characters are nonwhite). The other day she came to me talking about how worried she is that she’ll get something wrong and it’ll be offensive without her realizing it, or she’ll accidentally use some kind of stereotype that will be hurtful, and she ended up in tears. I don’t know how to handle this. She seems to feel like it’s a huge problem but to me, it seems like no big deal considering that 1) she is 13 years old! And 2) she isn’t publishing this comic anywhere (she’s just doing it for fun). But I’m not sure if I should brush off her concerns and tell her she doesn’t have to worry about it, that as long as she has good intentions, it doesn’t matter if she makes a “mistake,” or if I should try to find her some sort of resource to help her with representation. If she were going to publish the comic, I would lean toward the latter, but seeing as she isn’t, my opinion is that it doesn’t matter much at this point—but is that just because I’m a white person and don’t understand?
—Representation Issues
Dear Issues,
Telling your smart, sensitive child that her concerns are no big deal—that as long as she has good intentions, the result doesn’t matter—is a pretty terrible idea. She’s taking the making of this comic seriously. It’s not about whether she publishes it or not; it’s about the process of making it. She made a conscious decision to include a diverse cast of characters (good for her!); her concern about whether she may be relying on stereotypes (without even being aware of it) or otherwise falling short when she writes and draws characters whose life experience is different from her own echoes the concerns of thoughtful, ethical, professional writers/artists. You should encourage that.
But you don’t have to hire a professional sensitivity reader for her—that would be overkill. Simply taking her concerns seriously is step one. Let her know that you admire her for thinking like a real writer, that her determination to do her characters justice is a worthy one, and that her awareness that there’s much about the world she doesn’t know (and about which she may indeed be mistaken) is a sign of maturity and wisdom. Step two is asking her what resources she believes might help her as she works on this project. If she wails that she has no idea, which is exactly the problem, that’s when your own superior wisdom comes in. (So make sure you’ve got some. You might start here, with these excellent resources.) Talk to her about what grownup writers do. If you don’t know, I’m here to tell you: In my work on a new novel for children, which includes a character who’s nonbinary, I asked several young people who identify as such to read an early draft and let me know what I got wrong. I also talked to NB people before I wrote that character’s most important scene, and those conversations helped me write it more authentically and three-dimensionally than I could have without them. (For that matter, I’d barely begun the book when I asked everyone I knew if they had a child or grandchild of age 10 to 12 who would be interested in talking to me about life today as a kid. I talked to a dozen or so about everything from playground games and rules to phones and clothes.)
Does Mila know anyone she could ask frankly for help with this? (“Would you read what I’ve got so far and tell me if you think I’ve got the character of X, Y, or Z right? And if I haven’t, how can I do better?”) Are there also books she can read, movies she can watch, podcasts she can listen to, or better still, media that you two can check out and talk about together?
If your white child of white parents lives in an all-white neighborhood and goes to an all-white school, the advice to seek out beta readers among people she already knows will not be useful. That doesn’t mean you should shrug off what’s troubling her. It means acknowledging that there’s a problem. (You do see how that’s a problem, don’t you?) Put your heads together to find a solution.
Dear Care and Feeding,
My old friends have two kids who are 14 and 11. When the kids were little, I was an honorary auntie to them, spending lots of time with them and their parents. After they went to bed, we would partake in grownup drinks and smoke … nothing crazy, just some fun. Right before the pandemic, I divorced my husband and then ended up moving to a city an hour or so away. I was not included in “family bubble” invitations during those years, and although I tried to come up with fun outdoor things to do, I got the impression that the kids were addicted to their screens (their parents would leave them home to meet up with me and my new partner). Now that the kids are older, I get the feeling I missed out on a good relationship with them. They both have anxiety issues, which worries me. And, in my opinion, they are negatively affected by their parents’ ongoing marijuana use. I want to be part of the kids’ lives, but I am not sure how to make inroads. I am still friendly with the parents, but we are not as close as we used to be. What should I do?
—Sad Aunt
Dear Sad,
Well, for starters, do your best not to make assumptions. (When your friends joined you for fun outdoor pursuits during the pandemic, leaving their kids at home, they might have made that choice, needing a break.) Whether these kids are “negatively affected” by their parents weed habit is neither here nor there. If you want to be a part of these kids’ lives, make an effort. Ask their parents if it’s OK with them if you offer to take the kids out (and if they say yes, ask the kids what they would like to do—don’t make assumptions about what they would think is fun). Write them letters afterwards. (You can text them, but only briefly and not too often—don’t be demanding.) Hell, you can send them thoughtful, small gifts, but first be observant; make sure you know what will please them.
As long as the parents are on board, there’s nothing to prevent you from forming your own relationships with them, which, as they get older, will be more and more important to them, because every teenager and young adult can use some adult presence in their life who is not a parent. Now, if there’s been an actual falling out between you and the parents, that’s another matter. One of the great heartbreaks of my life is that a painful (alas, unavoidable) relationship-ending conflict with longtime friends also ended my close relationship to their three children. It would have been inappropriate for me to reach out to the kids, whom I loved dearly, when their parents had intentionally struck me from their lives. But if what you’re describing is an ongoing, but no longer super-close, relationship, I encourage you to reach out to the kids whose lives you want to be a part of—with permission.
Dear Care and Feeding,
In December, we moved to Central Virginia, very close to Liberty University (of Jerry Falwell infamy). Our family subscribes to a blend of Jewish/agnostic/Unitarian Universalist practices. We are on the political left. I recently found out that high school graduation for our district is always held at Liberty. This bothers me a lot. There’s no point complaining about this: I am 99 percent convinced no one in power in the district will care. So: Do we abandon our principles and quietly show up for this major life event, or do we explain to our kids why we are so solidly opposed to this and not attend when the time comes?
—Lost Near Liberty
Dear Lost,
I will admit that I am always surprised by questions like this. Does nobody do research before moving to a new place?
But maybe you did do due diligence; maybe everything seemed great, and it just did not occur to you to ask about high school graduation—for which I can’t fault you, so let me ask you this: Is there another venue large enough to host graduation ceremonies? (A cursory search led me to Central Virginia Community College and Randolph College, also—like Liberty—in Lynchburg.) If there is, why not register your concern to the powers that be and ask for commencement to be held on more neutral grounds? If the district administrators wave off your issues with Liberty, write a thoughtful, well-reasoned, devastating letter to the newspaper. Of course, it’s possible (even, as you say, likely) that this will change no one’s minds, if this is a longstanding tradition and/or Liberty University offers the local public school district a favorable rental rate, but speaking up about it will set an example for your children: When you see something you believe is wrong, you try to do something about it.
But if graduation will not be moved, and your kids still participate in it (who knows—maybe they won’t want to? I skipped mine, in 1972), then, for heaven’s sake, go and support them. Sitting in the audience and clapping for your kids when they reach a milestone is not a betrayal of your principles.
—Michelle
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My 13-year-old daughter just got her first smartphone and made an Instagram account (with permission). She followed her older cousin who is 23, and whom she admires. I also have Instagram and follow her cousin (my niece). My niece is great, but she occasionally posts inappropriate things.
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