Raising two boys means that consent is on my mind a lot. How can I be sure that I’m sending men into the world that actively listen to others? Men who deeply respect other people’s bodily autonomy - especially women? And can I do this in a way that doesn’t require me to over-insert myself into their play?
It’s a tricky line to walk as a parent - letting siblings or friends work out their struggles while also finding a way to model respect and empathy. We don’t want to overstep and make small upsets into something bigger, but we do need to notice when one child is hurting another or making them feel unsafe. We need to empower our children to speak up for themselves when they’re not comfortable, and to help them develop ways of dealing with frustration and disappointment that don’t involve hurting or belittling others.
Modelling consent happens in the background all the time, and when that ground is prepped it’s easier to step back and let children try to find their own way through. We model consent through our own everyday interactions with our children: telling them before we pick them up or change their nappies as babies, and giving them autonomy over their bodies as much as possible as they grow by letting them decide how much to eat, how they want to dress, what activity they want to do next. We model this, also, through compassionate limits that we place on our own bodies: that we won’t let ourselves be hit or kicked, that we are allowed to go to the toilet or get a drink when we need one, even if that means pausing a game or leaving the room for a moment. We model language around consent - and the knowledge that a person has the right to say yes or no to physical contact - every time we let our child know that they don’t have to hug or kiss someone, or answer a nosy question, or play a game they don’t feel comfortable with.
Bodily autonomy comes hand in hand with intellectual autonomy; we’ve all had someone invade our personal space in a way that was uncomfortable, and we’ve also had the frustrating experience of being talked over or ‘mansplained’ to, or had our work or leisure activity co-opted by someone who takes away our power in some way or another. Teaching consent to kids involves both of these aspects, since the mindset behind both physical and intellectual autonomy is the same: other people’s ideas, beliefs, and bodies are to be respected as their own, and aren’t for us to control.
A useful technique we’ve been using in our home is to introduce explicit phrases around consent, so that there are no mixed messages while playing. This gives both children the chance to exercise their autonomy and to practice hearing ‘no’ from someone else - which then lets them work out how to deal with the feelings that brings up. Hearing these phrases also gives me a cue to support the children in the moment rather than letting them work out the situation on their own. I don’t always intervene immediately, but hearing one of the key phrases cues me to pay more attention and be ready to scaffold their interaction if necessary.
The most often-used phrase for us right now is ‘don’t touch my body.’ Many spirited and neurodiverse children have extra difficulties with impulse control - although plenty non-spirited kids do as well. Even us adults can find it tricky to control what’s coming out of our mouths when we’re upset! If a child has a tendency to lash out with pinches and pushes when feeling overwhelmed, this phrase sends a very clear directive that’s less inflammatory than saying ‘don’t hit me’, for instance. It doesn’t come with a value judgement, only a clear statement of what the speaker is requesting. It covers all kinds of touch, from hugging to hitting and everything in between.
The second most-used phrase in these situations right now is ‘not right now, thank you.’ If a child doesn’t want someone to join in their game - which in many cases can result in that game being broken up, taken over, or somehow demolished - this allows a child to set a limit and make it clear that they’re not up for collaborative play. Although many schools have a rule about not saying that someone can’t play to reduce exclusion and bullying, this can muddy waters around consent and a child’s developing sense of how they want to spend their time (and who with). In our case, this is a limit set by one brother to another, when an interruption of play isn’t welcome. Practicing setting boundaries around play at a young age helps to make this type of language natural for a child, and as they grow they are more likely to feel comfortable setting limits with friends and future partners about activities they are and aren’t comfortable with in the moment.
We have a few base rules about consent and play that help keep everyone feeling respected and safe:
You can ask to join a game, but you must respect if that person says no.
Ask before you hug, tickle, or pick up another child.
Ask before you knock down a tower or other building that another child has made.
Stop when someone else says stop, no matter what they’re talking about.
We talk about these rules a lot, and if I sense that a situation is heading towards a consent transgression. I’ll remind everyone of their rights to play as they choose, and to decide if and when someone touches them.
Learning about consent and the subsequent frustration or disappointment that hearing ‘no’ might cause isn’t a one-time thing. It’s a practice for us parents as well, as we begin to unpick the ways we were parented and look at society’s messages about children and their right (or lack of rights!) to determine how they play, and who they touch. Play is a perfect way for children to explore what consent means, practice setting boundaries for themselves, and have help from us as they find their own way through hearing ‘no’ and respecting that answer.
This month’s Growing Towards Justice play and learning guide is all about consent - from saying no to unwanted hugs, through to the power of a child’s voice to change the world. You can learn more here , and order individual or annual sets of guides starting at £10.