
My latest piece is about Paris, and why we need to have fierce conversations with our kids.
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I wasn’t a mother on 9/11, but I spent the day with children. I was teaching third grade in New York, and September 11, 2001, was our first day of school. As the news trickled in that morning, parents arrived early to pick up their children, and by the end of the day, only a handful remained in our care. After they were gone, I finally let my guard down and cried.
When school reopened a few days later, we were instructed to discuss what had happened with our students, but only in the broadest of terms. When difficult questions arose, we were to bounce them back to the parents, as we were uncertain how much detail each family had chosen to go into. We felt it was better to err on the side of saying too little than delve too deeply into the particulars of this strange and terrible new world.
Read more here!
A terrific, thought provoking piece. Thanks for sharing.
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wow Daisy…this is incredible….truly amazing writing. I felt your words in my heart, you really got to me and even made me tear up. I too lost my father before the kids were born. I can relate to so much of what you wrote. Keep sending these articles, they are fabulous! xo
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