I mean, one can only hope. Being a progressive parent involves taking many different roads in raising your kids, you know. Our dinner conversations look different. The things I expose them to often look strange and outwardly questionable to those without an inside view. Last year, while still in Kindie, my son went to Lorax day at his nature school and preached to the class about how The Lorax is a tale illuminating “how capitalism is killing the Earth.” He asks about modern day colonizers. We talk about the people of Gaza. We discuss how prisons and laws are made to punish the underclass. We know the real life bad guys are billionaires, colonizers and corporations. We discuss overconsumption and we’re mindful of our environmental footprint. They’ve been exposed to social movements and picket lines from an early age, and often hear us heatedly discuss the grievances of the working class.
This is the stuff I want them to fully understand, not merely how to be polite and deferential to those in power, like good little soldiers. I want them to use whatever privilege and access to resources they have to make the world better for everyone, not just themselves. If that’s radical or extreme, then so be it.