5 Ways to Teach Kids About Justice

READERS OFTEN ASK US: How can I incorporate a hunger for justice into my child’s spiritual formation? How do we help the youngest members of the church understand the gospel’s call to love God and to love our neighbors as ourselves? Sojourners asked five Christian parents engaged in various forms of justice work to share their best tips for helping children put their faith into action. Here’s what they said. - The Editors

1. Look for Teachable Moments

by Kate Ott

MANY PARENTS FEEL unprepared to talk about sex or faith with their children. I was one of those parents until I realized age-appropriate sexuality information could empower my children and keep them safe. I also realized that teaching my kids about sexuality meant more than talking about “sex.” After all, if I didn’t talk to my kids about how Christian values of love, justice, and mutuality guide the care of our bodies and our relationship choices, who would?

So rather than planning for a single “big talk” or waiting until I know all the answers, I practice parenting through teachable moments. For example, in our house we talk about how clothing choices and hygiene reflect our thankfulness for our bodies as part of God’s good creation (including remembering to brush teeth!). As a parent, when I take a picture of my kids, I ask them for permission before posting it on social media; this encourages thinking-before-posting and consent as an active yes. And when we’re watching TV or listening to a song in the car about attraction or a relationship, I ask questions like: How would you feel in that situation? Do you think that person values their body? Does that seem like a mutual decision/relationship? Is that kind of love balancing God, neighbor, and self? In the short conversation, I always say something like, “Being in a relationship takes a lot of work and requires communication, honesty, commitment, and mutuality.” This models how to use one’s values to assess relationship choices.

These teachable moments—rather than hard and fast rules—encourage kids to be moral thinkers. Sure, there are times kids need sexual health information, and that requires a sit-down talk and some resources. But most teaching related to sexuality and faith comes from our modeling as parents and intentionally talking about our faith values related to everyday examples.

2. Confront Hard Truths Head-On

by Leah Gunning Francis 

FOR MLK DAY, our sons’ elementary school hosted a screening of Mighty Times: The Children’s March. This documentary tells the story of the behind-the-scenes efforts to organize the 1963 children’s march for racial justice in Birmingham, Ala. At first, I wasn’t sure if my 7- and 9-year-old sons were ready to see such a stark depiction of the harsh realities faced by blacks—by children who looked just like them—in the Jim Crow South. I decided to take them, not for shock value but to affirm the strength and resolve of black people and to open the door to “the talk” about the history of racial injustice.

Teaching young black children about the tumultuous history of this country is not an easy thing to do. I wrestle with not wanting my sons to feel inferior because of racist practices that were hewn into the fabric of this country and, at the same time, I don’t want them to think that all white people are bad. I do want them to live into an understanding of themselves as vibrant, smart, and valuable human beings who are worthy of receiving and giving respect. The only way I’ve found to do that is to face the hard truths about racism head-on, while affirming my sons’ inherent worth and value. I knew I’d done the right thing when my 9-year-old asked me, “Mom, did any of the white people help the brown people?” Yes, son, they did.

Although we cannot shield our children from the horrors of racial injustice past or present, we can tell them the stories of how people worked together to achieve freedom and equality. It is from these lessons that we must continue to take stock and equip our children to be the new generation of freedom fighters.

3. Welcome New Traditions

by Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove

AT OUR HOUSE on Christmas morning, the kids wake us up early, begging for permission to go downstairs and open the presents that appeared beneath the Christmas tree since they drifted off to sleep the night before. They rip the wrapping paper eagerly, hoping and praying that we got them what they wanted. We try. And we usually meet with some success, thanks mostly to my wife’s gifts of attention and generosity.

By 9 a.m. or so, the presents are unwrapped, breakfast is eaten ... even the trash has been taken out (hopefully by a grateful child). By now, our kids know the tradition: We load up in the family van with whoever else happens to be around the house and drive to Central Prison.

This isn’t a tradition we started, but one we were welcomed into when we moved to North Carolina 14 years ago. People of faith who had been visiting incarcerated sisters and brothers knew that no one got visits on Christmas. To allow as many staff as possible to be home with their families, the prison keeps everyone in their cells and doesn’t allow visitors. So these folks started gathering outside the prison on Christmas morning to sing carols. Because it’s hard to hear through prison walls, we shout, “Jingle Bells.” We also carry 6-foot letters that spell out “Merry Christmas.”

We want our kids to know that we love them and that God loved them so much that Jesus came down from heaven to be with us. But we also want them to know that Jesus is locked up. “I was in prison and you visited me,” he said. We cannot know God or be God’s body in the world without knowing sisters and brothers across the prison line. Our Christmas tradition is a reminder of that. We celebrate “peace on earth and good will to all people” by driving every Christmas morning to shout good news across the walls. Sometimes, if we listen closely, we hear friends shouting good news back.

4. Tell Stories—Especially Your Own

by Bruce Reyes-Chow

IT'S A STORY my daughters have been told over and over again by their great-grandparents: how our family immigrated to the United States from China and the Philippines—the sacrifices they made, the discrimination they faced, and the community they experienced.

And it’s a story I want my daughters to remember because I know it will help them to better understand the stories of others, especially the newcomers and immigrants who continue to come to the United States today. If we forget what generations before have done, we risk losing empathy, forgoing compassion, and creating structures that place obstacles before people who are simply trying to do what our own family did generations ago.

So in our family we try to do a few things to reinforce our commitment to our history:

We make sure to tell the stories that have been passed down from my grandparents to my parents and to me so that my daughters remember the laughter, tears, struggles, and joys.

We help connect the dots between then and now by drawing connections between the struggles that our families faced and the ones people face today.

When we have been able to, we have traveled to our familial villages in both the Philippines and China. A privilege and expense, but worth it.

For other parents, my biggest piece of advice would be to begin by knowing the story, telling it over and over again, and then seeing where God is calling you to go with it: work with current immigrants, travel to one’s homeland, or something else.

Remember where you’ve come from so that you treat those who are arriving today as if they too are worthy of the opportunities given to you, I tell my daughters. Your family was worthy and theirs is too.

5. Honor Kids as Part of the Movement

by Lydia Wylie-Kellerman

I HAVE TWO kids who’ve only ever lived under the undemocratic rule of emergency management. Here in Detroit, that means 38,000 households are living without running water; up the road in Flint, it means people are suffering dangerously high lead levels from drinking their water. What does it mean as a parent to live in a state that will knowingly and secretly poison a generation of children if there is money to be gained?

Last night, our toddler held our newborn’s fist up in the air and declared, “Water is a human right!” My heart swelled. When Isaac was born, we were clear that he was not a reason to flee the city or the movement but rather to commit deeper to this place and community where Beloved Community breathes.

Though Isaac may not be able to articulate what “water is a human right” fully means, he knows that it has something to do with where we put our bodies: holding signs on the street, picking people up from jail, long quiet hours in the courtroom, dropping off water to strangers’ homes, running outside when the shut-off trucks pull onto our block, praying in church, and the songs that put him to sleep.

My work as a parent and activist these days has little to do with intellect or organizing, but rather focuses on the art of schlepping. It means taking the 45 minutes to put on mittens, go potty, and change diapers in order to arrive 30 minutes late to an hour-long rally. It’s about packing enough string cheese and crayons to last the duration of a meeting.

I long for my children to be witnesses to resistance as resurrection, to find Detroit as a discipleship school, and to trust in a God of justice and love. So, we schlepp them along, constantly honoring their beings as members of this movement and praying that the fire ignites their hearts.