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July 25, 2011 -- Explaining war to kids is always hard, but when
you're part of a military family, the task is even more difficult
because it's so personal. When my sons were little, their father was
in the Navy Reserve as an intelligence officer with the Seabees, the
Navy's construction division. The boys understood what the military
was in a very hazy “It must involve a ship, Daddy going away, and a
large yellow bee” kind of way. But because their father wasn't
directly in harm's way, I was able to gloss over hard questions
about war and just concentrate on the fun parts of having a dad in
the military from a toddler's perspective — serving the country and
wearing really cool hats.
When my brother, a soldier in the
Ohio National Guard, went off to Kuwait three years ago, that
explanation no longer seemed sufficient. While Uncle Bryan wasn't
hunting Taliban in Afghanistan, our family still worried about him
and his safety. To keep the boys connected to their uncle, we
checked his unit's Web page with photos posted for family and
friends, looking for that familiar face. On one night, my son asked
to see a photo of an “Army truck” and I found him a few Humvee
photos. On the back of each vehicle was a large placard with two
stop signs and a message in Arabic and English. It read “DANGER STAY
BACK.” My 3-year-old wanted to know why they had signs on the
trucks. I tried the standard, “Well, cars and people could get hurt
by that big Army truck if they get too close.” He wasn't buying it,
pointing out that tractors are bigger. So I said, perhaps rashly,
“Sometimes bad people try to get too close to the trucks and blow
them up.”
I'll never forget the look on his face. The idea
that someone might want to hurt his uncle was incomprehensible to
him. I believe it was the first moment he realized that bad things
don't just happen in nightmares. The moment was a first for me, too,
as I realized that my military family would walk a fine line between
explaining what Daddy and Uncle Bryan do and letting my children be
children for as long as possible.
In our military community,
my children and their classmates understand more than most
kindergartners should about the mechanics of war. My sons, now 5 and
6 years old, can identify military aircraft flying overhead, they
can tell you what an RPG or an IED is, and they know that Seals
aren't just found lying on the rocks in the sun. But war isn't just
a cool game for the playground; it's horrible and dirty and fraught
with shades of gray. That's where it gets hard.
When my boys
were 2 and 3, they didn't ask a lot of follow-up questions about
war, death and dying. I could distract them by reassuring them that
everyone would be fine and safe. Distracting them was always an easy
fallback: “Look, there's a pretty butterfly!” But it keeps getting
harder. My husband is retired now, but last year some good friends
of my boys welcomed their dad home from a yearlong deployment to
Iraq and the boys suddenly became aware of all of their schoolmates
with parents in Iraq or Afghanistan. That's when they started
talking about the wars. The boys didn't ask me direct questions, but
I knew that I needed to answer them when they did.
My husband
and I tried to shelter the boys from the events of Sept. 11, 2001,
until pretty recently. I simply didn't think that they could handle
hearing about that sort of evil. I can't even talk about 9/11
without crying, so how could I explain why we're fighting a war in
Afghanistan to my little guys? After all, a dislike of broccoli or
that kid who spits his milk at lunch doesn't exactly prepare a boy
for concepts like jihad, does it? But last year, while we were
watching a documentary about presidential photographers, those
familiar scenes from the twin towers flashed onto the screen. My
kids watched in horror and turned to me for an explanation. They
didn't ask questions, they just looked at me, expecting Mommy to
have the answers. I stopped the video, and I tried to explain about
Osama bin Laden and the men who flew planes into the towers on
purpose. To hurt people. And how we went to war to make sure it
didn't happen again. I'm sure it didn't help that I cried through my
entire explanation, but the kids seemed to think the whole thing was
a lot less complicated than I did. My youngest son, who was 4 at the
time, was shaken, but I thought he summed it up well by calling the
terrorists “bad people.”
It seems awfully simplistic to
explain away two wars with “bad people,” but so far it's worked for
us. I don't even know how to explain Iraq to my boys, so I've punted
on that one so far. Still, I try not to dodge my kids' direct
questions. I know that simply changing the subject will leave a lot
of unanswered questions in their minds. So when my youngest spent
three straight weeks asking me if there were bad people in the
United States, or in our town, or in his school, or in the grocery
store, I kept patiently explaining that there are bad people
everywhere but that most people are good. And, of course, that the
“bad people” won't hurt them. I know, however, that the boys still
worry for their friends with deployed parents and they worry about
their uncle.
You see, Uncle Bryan is going to Afghanistan
soon, and the kids know that it will be dangerous. When I talked
about it with my boys recently, my 5-year-old asked, “Will Uncle
Bryan die?” I said no, but I felt uncomfortable telling them that
nothing bad would happen. I can't make those guarantees. Instead, I
explained that, yes, many service members have died in Afghanistan,
but that Uncle Bryan is well trained and very careful, and that this
isn't his first deployment to a war zone. My youngest keeps asking
questions about whether Uncle Bryan will be hurt or killed, but I
know that he's not really looking for answers; he just wants more
reassurance from me that his uncle will be OK. I don't let the boys
see my fears.
I'm encouraging them to ask me, their dad and
their uncle any questions they have. I've urged them to ask Uncle
Bryan all about his job fixing tanks and other vehicles in the hope
that the kids will focus more on my brother's mission than on the
danger. And we talk about how wonderful it is that so many
Americans, including their Grandpa, Daddy and uncle, have
volunteered to serve our country in the military. We talk about how
sometimes it can be scary, but also how serving in our armed forces
is something to be proud of.
Right now, war seems pretty
black and white to my kids, but I know that it won't last. It won't
be long before they ask questions about Iraq, or civilians who are
hurt or killed, or the children in Iraq and Afghanistan. Right now,
my 5-year-old is convinced that “Uncle Bryan can dodge the bullets,”
but I don't know what I'll say when he realizes that not everyone
dodges every bullet and that sometimes people we love die. For now,
I just hug my boys tightly and hope for wisdom and peace.
(Note: This commentary originally appeared in the New York Times
blog: “At War: Notes From the Front Lines.” Used by permission of
the author through American Forces Press Service.)
By Stephanie Himel-Nelson
American Forces Press Service
Copyright 2011
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