My Kid’s First Lesson in Realpolitik

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Recently, during a visit to Switzerland, I watched two kids beat each other to a pulp on a crowded playground while their parents looked on. I had to quell every American helicopter parent impulse in my body not to intervene.

Surprisingly, playgrounds in Switzerland are lawless zones. Twenty-five years ago, when I moved to Zurich from the United States in the fifth grade, I was mercilessly bullied by my classmates. They changed the indiscriminately terrifying name of the favored playground game “Alle Gegen Alle” (“Everyone Against Everyone”) to “Alle Gegen Annie” (“Everyone Against Annie”). The game consisted of throwing a handball at somebody as hard as humanly possible. The rest of the students jumped at the chance to pummel the newcomer with all their pent-up, prepubescent rage. Frantically, I looked around for assistance, but there was no grown-up in sight.

Until then, I had never really known conflict; I had not learned to defend myself. At even a whiff of drama on the playground of my Missouri public school, the monitor would race over with her whistle hanging commandingly around her neck. In contrast, Swiss parents believe that if children learn to resolve their own conflicts early on, they will be more autonomous and confident later in life. According to the author Sara Zaske and others who advocate German parenting models, this laid-back approach was a deliberate move away from the strict child-rearing practices associated with authoritarianism.

Eventually, my mother could no longer endure my suffering and, on one fateful day, unbeknown to me, marched to my school to lecture my tormentors. After that, I was left alone, but nobody ever invited me to take part in another birthday party or game of mutual destruction.

The presidency of Donald Trump shows me just why it is so important to expose ourselves — especially our children — to conflict. If you examine him through the lens of playground politics, you will recognize Mr. Trump as a thin-skinned bully who seems incapable of stomaching criticism or opposition. At the same time, he postures as a victim, vacillating between venomous outcries at his foes and the desperate need for validation from his fans.

The problem with America — Mr. Trump’s playground — is that we’ve developed an insular, conflict-averse culture. The president’s trolling is so effective, in part, because many of us have not learned how to deal with interpersonal conflict, starting with the playground. We must learn to defend ourselves so that when Donald Trump or any other bully taunts us, we can rise to the occasion.

Most of us, liberals and conservatives alike, live in well-insulated echo chambers where Rachel Maddow or Sean Hannity deliver more eloquent renditions of our own opinions in hyperbolic form. No wonder the American political system is suffering from an epic communication breakdown. Ensconced in our cocoons, we have lost the ability to talk to people with different views.

I was as shocked as many people were when Hillary Clinton lost the 2016 presidential election. As one of my friends mused: “How could Hillary lose? All my Facebook friends voted for her.” This monumental distortion of perspectives has culminated in the Trump administration’s genius postmodern claim that any unfavorable facts are “fake news.” But many liberals woke up on Nov. 9 also declared the election fake news.

A few weeks ago, during a play date, my daughter and her best friend were sitting across the table from another 4-year-old, having an after-school snack. The peace was interrupted by my daughter, who noted, “Nina is sitting next to nobody.” A banal observation quickly turned into a nasty refrain that my daughter and her strategically situated friend sang over and over. Nina is sitting next to nobody. Nina is sitting next to nobody.

One of the hardest choices parents face is when to intervene in our children’s lives. Each day we are forced to make countless micro decisions that, en masse, add up to a de facto parenting philosophy.

My daughter’s taunts sounded so familiar — the trolling of an innocent victim who happened to draw the ire of a powerful, vocal bully. I wanted to let the children learn to deal with conflict on their own terms. But when Nina looked about to cry, I relented: “Guys, please apologize to Nina for hurting her feelings.” It was, after all, America, and I wanted my daughter to have friends.

Kids don’t live in a bubble, so why do we try to shelter them from conflict? One of the earliest lessons you learn at school is about the boundless cruelty of other children. And that bullies can win. Yet contrary to these early playground lessons in realpolitik, children are consistently taught to avoid conflict by well-meaning parents, teachers and caregivers because that’s how we want the world to work. We raise our children in gilded playpens, shielding them from criticism and alternative views.

Mr. Trump has convinced me to give my daughter some tough love. To expose her to critical opinions, to make her listen to views she might not like or agree with. I don’t want her to lose it when somebody like Donald Trump is elected. More than anything, I want her to be able to defend herself and fight back.

I want my daughter to learn to say no confidently and unapologetically. Dealing with conflict is also about standing up for yourself as a woman, whether a man is talking over you at a meeting or trying to engage in unwanted sexual behavior. If we learn early how to have difficult or uncomfortable conversations up front, we don’t need others to fill in the gaps, make our decisions or read our minds. But if we can’t stand up to conflict, we risk becoming the snowflakes that the Donald Trumps and the wagging tongues on the right make us out to be.

Finally, I want my daughter to think about the larger world, beyond the echo chamber that narrowly reflects her own experiences and views. I want her to think beyond the “me” in #MeToo. I want her to think about women, but I also want her to think of men, of the poor, minorities and the people who might not be part of the most trendy Instagram hashtag.

Because all I’ve heard for the past 18 months is about Donald Trump.