Innocent

When I was in 1st grade, the Challenger space shuttle exploded with Christa McAuliffe, a teacher, inside. That's tough to wrap your head around as a 6-year-old. I don't remember anything but feeling sad and deciding I no longer wanted to be an astronaut.

My 9th graders were in 2nd grade when the planes hit the World Trade Center. Now it's one thing to reconcile an accidental tragedy like the Challenger, but it seems another entirely to reconcile an intentional act that killed thousands. I wonder what the parents of my freshmen told their 7-year-olds that day, and I wonder about the conversations in the days to come. I'm tempted to bring it up at next Monday's parent night, but that would be creepy.

Point is, things happen in every kid's life that chip into their innocence. What was it for you? When did you first discover that all was not well in the world? How did you cope with the idea that some adults were bad and that in an instant life could go horribly, irreversibly wrong?

When our daughter is born, I suspect one of the toughest parts of parenting will be the idea that her innocence is temporary. And I wonder what will first chip into hers, what will force her to deal with scary adult issues when she's just a little kid. All I know right now is that I hate, hate that thing already.