What My Kids Taught Me About Politics

Guest Editorial by Andrea Graf

It wasn’t that long ago my children were small enough to scoop up in one arm. I remember standing in my kitchen, sunlight on the tile floor, saying for what felt like the hundredth time,

“Don’t run on the tile.”

And they ran.

“Don’t touch that.”

They reached.

“Stop climbing.”

They giggled as they climbed higher.

At first I thought it was defiance. I’m pretty stubborn but eventually I realized they weren’t resisting me. They were responding to where I pointed their attention. They weren’t really processing the words “don’t” or “no”. Instead it only focused them even more on the behavior.

So I began to change.

I got better at offering them something to do, instead of what Not to do.

Instead of “Don’t run,” I tried, “Walk with me.”

Instead of “Don’t touch that,” I said, “Come help me with this.”

I stopped only correcting and started redirecting.

And something shifted.

They weren’t trying to rebel. They just needed guidance.

I think about that lesson when I see how we speak to each other online. Especially when it comes to politics. We spend so much time saying what we don’t want. Stop this. End that. And like children in a sunlit kitchen, our collective attention runs straight toward the very thing we are trying to eliminate.

I love this quote from Mother Teresa. She said “I was once asked why I don’t participate in anti-war demonstrations. I said that I will never do that, but as soon as you have a pro-peace rally, I’ll be there.” She understood that what we gather around grows.

If we gather around anger, anger expands.

If we gather around fear, fear multiplies.

I have taught my children that our brains are wired to notice what is wrong. That instinct helps us be safe. But noticing the problem is only the first step. The problem isn’t solved until we figure out what we DO want and then make a plan to create it.

Complaining doesn’t create joy. Arguing about what you hate can only build a neurotic community. You have to share what you hope to create with others and then get busy building it.

As Martin Luther King Jr. reminded us, darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. That is not weakness. It’s wisdom.

If I want peace in my home, I cannot spend all day shouting about chaos. I have to model calm. If I want kindness between siblings, I will point out the hurt and then I need to show them how to rebuild. Together, not apart.

And I believe our communities need the same thing.

People want safety. Opportunity. Dignity. A future filled with possibility for our children to prosper in. Yes. Even the people you disagree with and think are destroying our community.

I have seen something beautiful happen when people are willing to build bridges by talking across differences. Ideas get stronger. Solutions become more effective and practical. Communities become more resilient. It doesn’t require giving up what you believe. It just requires being willing to see the other person’s heart. To listen before you speak, to look for shared goals before focusing on disagreements.

I’m not alone in this. There are organizations full of people who think the same way and are dedicating their time and energy to the cause. They are having conversations with people who think differently from them. They are finding allies in unexpected places. They are choosing curiosity over judgement. And when we do that, the world starts to feel bigger, not smaller. People start to feel more human to each other. Problems start to feel more solvable.

So I keep sharing this simple but powerful idea.

We can’t put our energy into what we are against.

What you are willing to BUILD?

Let’s build together.

About the Author
Andrea is President of Can-Ada RW and a fervent advocate for restoring dignity to dialogue and effective policy making to government. She is also a mom to five kids that give her the determination to build a better world.