Shortly into the New Year, I took three of my grandchildren to the children’s play area at a nearby mall. There they played nicely with the other kids for about an hour. But a seemingly innocent encounter between my four-year-old grandson and a little girl who looked to be about three quickly changed the dynamic.
The girl was twirling around near me and then struck a pose as if to say “ta-da.” So I said “ta-da.” She smiled at me and, after twirling around a bit more, came over and told me her name. We began chatting. Because I was talking to her, my grandson came over to talk as well.
And then it happened. He very innocently hugged her.
My first thought was, “Aww, that was sweet,” because we always hug in my family. So to me (and to him) it was no big deal, just a way to show affection. But this poor little girl cringed at my grandson’s hug. Her cute little smile turned into a look of fear, and she backed away from him one step. My heart sank, and I quickly tried to think of how to handle the situation.
I recalled an article I read on Facebook around Thanksgiving that, in light of the #MeToo movement, urged parents to teach their little girls to have agency over their own bodies. It said even an innocent hug or kiss from a family member can be emotionally harmful to a young child.
At the time, I admit, I didn’t fully agree with the author’s position. I felt that what someone experiences who has been molested or sexually assaulted was much more traumatizing than an innocent hug. But what I saw on that little girl’s face, and the fear I felt emanating from her, even though my grandson meant no harm, told me how wrong I was.
I told my grandson he could not just hug someone; he had to first ask permission. I made him apologize to the girl, and then ask her for a hug. When he did, she just looked at him, still with that look of fear. So I said to her, “You don’t want him to hug you, do you? It’s OK if you don’t.”
She shook her head no. So I told my grandson that she said no, and that means that he can’t hug her. I assured him that he wasn’t in trouble, but he just needs to make sure he asks for a hug first.
Then I looked around and saw the girl’s mother, who had seen the entire encounter.
When I apologized to her, she assured me that she heard everything I said and that I handled it perfectly, and she thanked me. We chatted for a moment and then she left, but the smile on her daughter’s face never returned.
So now I, too, am urging parents to teach their children four things: 1) how to have agency over their own bodies; 2) how to find and use their own voice; 3) that it is not OK to touch anyone without their permission, no matter how innocent it may be; and 4) that it’s OK to say no.
I don’t know why that little girl reacted the way she did. Could she have social anxiety when it comes to touching? Could she have been scared because her personal space was invaded? Or could she simply have not liked my grandson for some reason?
Whatever the reason, I know that no one has the right to remove the smile from an innocent child’s face.
This column was produced for the Progressive Media Project, which is run by The Progressive magazine, and distributed by Tribune News Service.