Charlie Kirk’s murder has been all over my news feed. To be honest, I hadn’t even heard of the guy until this week, so I had to do a little research. Jack had heard of him, but didn’t know much more than his political affiliation. On Friday night, we were sharing what we had learned. It was an intense conversation, held in the kitchen as I cooked.
It’s taken us nearly two decades to figure out how to have heated discussions in a civilized way, but we’ve gotten much better over time. We agree on a lot of things, but he leans a little right, and I lean a little left. Early on in our relationship, our discussions often devolved into arguments or full-on fights.
I’m proud of how far we’ve come, and when we share, we get to see first hand how the algorithm points each of us toward the news stories that reaffirm our beliefs. Luckily, we have each other to challenge those beliefs, and it’s helped us both to grow and learn.
And as we were talking, our kids emerged from their bedrooms to join the discussion. Kyle shared a quote and then verified it online within 15 seconds. Cameron made an argument and was able to back it up with real-life examples. It was a pivotal moment for me.
Usually, when Jack and I have these heated discussions, we keep out of earshot of the children. Perhaps it’s because of the way they used to deteriorate into near-violence. Or maybe it’s just because the content was usually age inappropriate. But that’s not the case anymore. These kids are grown or practically grown. They have their own perspectives and opinions, and I fell asleep thinking that maybe we’ve done them a disservice by excluding them from the difficult conversations.
So, in the wee hours of the morning, with my brain spinning, I hatched up a half-baked plan. I (generously) waited until Jack began stirring at 5am before I accosted him with my brilliant idea. “Family debate night!” I whisper-shouted into his face with a smile. “Except we need to bribe them with food. We’ll call it Dips and Debate, because I like alliteration and everyone likes dippy food.”
“Dippy food?” Jack asked, barely awake.
“You know, like snacky, football-game food. Wings. Dipped in blue cheese. Potato skins. Dipped in sour cream. Crab Rangoons. Dipped in duck sauce.”
I paused to take a breath. I couldn’t tell if he was buying into it or not.
“I think it’s a good idea. But… do we need to do the dips? Can’t we just order Chinese?”
And just like that, the first family debate night was born.
*****
I proposed the idea on Saturday morning. I mean, they’re teens, so a monotone, ‘Sure,’ is about as much enthusiasm as any family-centered event can elicit from them. But nobody pushed back. Nobody even rolled their eyes. I suggested they be prepared to screen cast their social media accounts, so they can share what they’re seeing. I took their orders for take-out. By dinnertime, everyone was willing (if not exactly eager) to share their perspectives and hear each other out.
The conversation started as a condemnation of violence, then naturally veered into gun laws and constitutional rights and school shootings. We talked about racism and income disparity and government overreach. We talked about solutions and the cost of those solutions and lessons from history. They researched as we talked. They shared videos and articles and opinions and suggestions. These kids… well, they’re not kids anymore. They are articulate, thoughtful, perceptive, passionate, and compassionate young adults. They blew me away.
I learned so much last night. About my kids. About their world and how they see it. About the importance of talking about the tough stuff.
Tonight at dinner, I asked them to rate our first family debate night. Was it unsuccessful, moderately successful, or successful?
They both said, “moderately successful,” which is practically a standing ovation, right?
So we’re doing it again.
But next time, we’re doing it with dips.