Updated: Aug. 8, 2020
Originally Published: Oct. 19, 2017
In my neighborhood, a spirited debate has emerged on our community forum. There are actually two hot topics: one involves a county deer culling program, igniting a fierce clash between conservationists and hunters, while the other has caught my attention—Halloween decorations. Moments after a concerned dad from a nearby area posted his grievances about the more gruesome decorations creeping into our streets, I knew this would be a lively discussion. His message, which quickly gathered over 117 comments, expressed concern for his young kids, urging neighbors to reconsider their more macabre displays.
“Oh boy, this is going to get interesting!” I told my partner, and I was right. The father’s plea garnered a wave of responses from parents (and oddly, one pet owner) echoing his sentiments about the frightful decor causing distress to their little ones.
While I understand their worries, my family has a unique perspective on this topic. When my daughter was just 3 years old, her younger brother passed away at 16 months. Each visit to his grave brings her to ask what lies beneath the stone with his name. I’ve always answered truthfully, “His body.”
Since that Halloween—a time when skeletons and tombstones start to adorn the lawns—I’ve grappled with how these decorations might impact her. To my relief, she and her younger sister absolutely adore them, the scarier the better.
Even if the sight of skeletons and tombstones stirred up painful memories, I would never dream of asking my neighbors to take them down. My daughters’ reality is that one lost a brother, while the other will never know him. It’s a harsh truth that I cannot shield them from. Likewise, as unsettling as some of today’s Halloween decorations may be, they are part of a cherished cultural tradition. No polite request from an anxious parent can change that. Our role as parents is to guide our kids through these uncomfortable experiences.
Cultivating Resilience
Just before September 11, 2001, I landed a job at a foreign policy think tank in New York. Once the chaos settled, my colleagues and I often joked that we were consumed by “All terrorism, all the time.” Among my colleagues was Alex Mason, a respected expert in homeland security who champions resilience. He pointed out that terrorism aims to instill fear and disrupt a society’s functioning. A country that is better prepared to recover from attacks becomes a less appealing target.
The same principle applies to our kids. Introducing them to uncomfortable situations helps cultivate their coping skills, especially when we provide support. Resilience acts as a shield against trauma. In a powerful essay about PTSD, war correspondent Jamie Parker notes, “A sense of helplessness is deeply traumatic, but high levels of training can effectively insulate elite soldiers from extreme risk.”
While I may not have Parker’s eloquence or experience in a war zone, I embrace this mindset. On a recent trip to an amusement park, I discussed our plan in case we got separated. Writing my number on my especially anxious 4-year-old’s arm, I reassured her, “I don’t think we will be separated. But knowing what to do just in case means we can focus on having fun!”
Of course, we must consider each child’s developmental readiness to handle certain situations, and every parent knows their child best. However, exposing kids to small doses of discomfort now equips them for future challenges—especially those that may arise when we can’t be there. My husband, for instance, didn’t attend a funeral until he lost his son. No preparation could ready us for that reality, but I often think about the shock he experienced on top of his grief.
Preparing for Life’s Inevitable Challenges
As I write this, the discussion about Halloween decorations has been reopened on the forum after being closed by the group moderator. Clearly, this issue stirs strong emotions. As parents, we all want to protect our children and keep them happy, which can seem at odds with exposing them to risk or discomfort. I view this exposure as a form of emotional vaccination—planting a tiny seed of hardship in their minds to better prepare them for the future.
While it’s a daunting task, it’s more frightening than many of the Halloween decorations out there.
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Summary
This article explores the complexities of Halloween decorations in the context of parenting and resilience. It highlights the importance of allowing children to experience discomfort, as it equips them to handle life’s challenges. By embracing the spooky season as a cultural tradition, parents can help their kids navigate fears and develop coping mechanisms.