Karen & Felicia

"Daddy?"

Parents of babies quickly learn to distinguish the cries of their babies based on the nuances of the wailing.  That doesn't change when learn to talk. 

"Daddy?"

There's a tone in that question that means, 'love youuuuuu.'  There's a different tone that says, 'look at me, look at me, look at me!' There's also the expensive one: 'I'm sorry, please don't be mad, I'll replace it.' 

With enough repetitions (and reimbursements), figuring out what follows 'Daddy?' gets a little easier.

As our kids grow up, they begin to have questions beyond 'what's for dinner?' We want them to feel safe asking questions of us, so we've set expectations that they can (in the appropriate context) ask my wife and I any question without fear of punishment.  The goal is for them to be comfortable coming to us with their questions rather than google or their idiot friend who heard once from his older brother who learned about whatever it is on TikTok.

The research we've done suggests that psychological safety is defined by the responder, not the initiator, so we work to temper our responses, whatever the question. 

"Daddy?"

Victor Frankl says that maturity is the pause between stimulus and response. In that pause, the mature will reflect and choose a thoughtful path rather than simply react.  At times, that pause is harder than others. 

"Daddy?"

Recently, my son sheepishly wondered, "Daddy? Who's Karen?" 

"Karen who," I asked.

"I don't know.  Some kids at school keep telling some other kids at school to 'stop being a Karen. What's a Karen?'

It takes more than a moment for me to collect my thoughts, teetering between laughter at my child's innocence and wondering if the kids at school were using 'Karen' in a way beyond the meme.  Nothing seems to be innocent these days. 

'What's the context? Are they calling you that? Who says it?'  I sincerely wonder if it's middle school code for bullying or name calling or has any overtures that might land my son in the principal's office.

"No.  They just laugh"

"Buddy, they're trying to be funny.  They should try harder." I felt confident that the line between intentional epithet and pre-teen idiocy were clear.

"Daddy?"

Oof. 

"Daddy? Is Karen related to Felicia and why do they keep telling her 'bye'?"

This time I couldn't contain my laughter. There was no maturity governing my response to the stimulus. 

"Buddy.  Your friends are idiots. Go play."

My son doesn't understand the social media memes or their origins.  I don't understand Middle Schoolers, so there was some translating that needed to occur.  Once we got square that he was safe at school, the work was to make sure that he felt safe asking questions because next time, the question may not be so naïve.