Part of The Amazing Me Top Tips Series
Top Tip #29: Teach It. Model It. Keep Coming Back to It.
The dinner guests have gone home.
The front door closes. We start clearing plates, stacking the dishwasher and restoring some order to the kitchen.
And then, perhaps, the post-dinner analysis begins.
“Did you hear what she said about…?”
“Honestly, he spent the entire meal…”
A little whinge. A complaint, along with some fairly enthusiastic criticism.
Meanwhile, one of our children is still sitting at the table.
Listening.
A few hours earlier, they watched us warmly welcome those same people into our home. Now they’re hearing something quite different.
Our children notice these things.
I’m not suggesting we can never have a whinge after our guests leave. I certainly wouldn’t meet that standard.
But it’s a useful reminder that some of the most powerful lessons our children learn about relationships have very little to do with the lessons we deliberately teach.
They’re watching us.
And, perhaps somewhat unexpectedly, that makes me think about learning to drive.
You Wouldn’t Teach Someone to Drive in One Lesson, then Hand Them the Keys
Imagine your teenager is finally old enough to learn to drive.
You sit them down at the kitchen table and explain the road rules.
Stop at red lights. Give way. Check your mirrors. Stay within the speed limit. Don’t use your phone.
An hour later, you hand them the keys.
“Great. You know how driving works. Off you go.”
Of course we wouldn’t.
Knowing the road rules and knowing how to safely navigate the road are two very different things.
Learning to drive takes instruction. Modelling. Practice. Repetition. Increasing responsibility.
Quiet streets before busy intersections. Daylight before driving at night.
And mistakes.
They’ll stall or accidentally accelerate. Forget to indicate. Misjudge a corner. Perhaps mount the kerb attempting a reverse park.
We don’t conclude, “Well, clearly driving education doesn’t work.”
We talk about what happened, practise again and keep learning.
So why would we expect consent education to work differently?
Knowing what consent means matters.
Learning to practise consent within real relationships takes time. It means learning to ask, listen, notice, clarify when we’re unsure and respect the answer we receive.
Just like driving, knowing the rules is only the beginning. Our children also need opportunities to practise the judgement they’ll need in real-life situations. In a previous blog, I explored what consent means for our kids and why it matters, including just how much learning about consent can involve. One conversation will never be enough.
Consent Education Is a Spiral
If you’ve been reading along with me, you’ll know I often talk about the Spiral.
We introduce an idea when our children are young. We return to it as they grow. Their language develops, their world expands and the conversation becomes more sophisticated.
Consent is a wonderful example.
At four – “She said stop tickling. That means stop.”
At seven – “Those are his lego pieces. Ask before you borrow them.”
At nine – “You really want your friend to join in, but they’ve said no. What could you do instead?”
At eleven: “She wanted to do that yesterday. She might not want to today.”
And as friendships and crushes become more complex:
“Just because someone likes you doesn’t mean they’ll want to do everything you want them to do.”
This is part of what we mean when we say that consent is ongoing.
A yes yesterday doesn’t automatically mean yes today. Agreeing to one thing doesn’t mean agreeing to everything. And even when someone has said yes, they are still allowed to change their mind.
Our children don’t need to learn all of that in one conversation. They learn it gradually, through experiences that make sense for the age and stage they are in.
The exact ages aren’t important. Children develop differently.
What matters is that we keep returning.
Teach. Model. Practise. Return. Add complexity.
4 Ways to Practise This in Everyday Life
Bringing It Back to Your Family Values
Our values aren’t only the things we tell our children we believe.
They’re also revealed in the ordinary ways we live.
If our family values kindness, dignity, inclusion and respect, those values matter in how we speak to one another, how we talk about people who aren’t present and how we respond to people whose lives or beliefs differ from ours.
Those values may come from faith, culture, family traditions, personal experience or deeply held beliefs.
Whatever their source, we don’t need to model them perfectly.
But we can notice when our behaviour and our values don’t quite match.
And then we can course-correct.
Our children aren’t simply learning what we believe.
They’re watching how we live it.
What Matters Most
An important part of consent education is helping our children understand that consent is reversible and ongoing. People are allowed to change their minds, and a yes yesterday doesn’t automatically mean yes today. When we’re unsure, we check rather than assume.
And our children won’t learn all of that from one conversation.
They learn it gradually, through what we teach, what we model and the conversations we keep coming back to.
Perhaps we can finish where we started, standing in the kitchen after our dinner guests have gone home.
Our child is still sitting at the table, listening.
What are they learning?
Not simply that Mum or Dad sometimes has a whinge. They’re learning something about relationships. About how we speak about people when they’re no longer in the room. About whether the respect we show someone in their presence continues when they leave. About the difference between the values we talk about and the values we actually live.
And none of that requires us to be perfect.
Perhaps we hear ourselves and think, “Hmm. That wasn’t particularly kind.”
That matters too.
Because our children can watch us notice, reflect and course-correct.
Consent education works in much the same way.
Some lessons we teach deliberately. Some our children learn by watching us. Some happen between friends. Some happen when things go beautifully. And some happen when we realise we could have done something differently.
Consent education is a Spiral.
We teach. Model. Practise. Return. Add complexity. Reflect. And keep learning.
Eventually, our children will be the ones behind the wheel.
We won’t be sitting beside them for every decision.
The goal was never to control every road they travel. It was to help them become thoughtful, responsible and empathetic people who can navigate relationships when we’re no longer sitting in the passenger seat.
And hopefully not collect too many speeding or parking tickets along the way.
Next, we’re going to explore another important part of consent:
What happens when somebody else’s answer isn’t the one we wanted?
Because learning how to express what we want and need matters.
Learning how to hear somebody else’s answer matters too.
Respect: Consent, Boundaries and Being in Charge of YOU
One critical foundation of body safety and a healthy sense of self is consent – something that starts with respect for oneself, and for others and bodily autonomy. With this book, kids aged 6 to 11 can have a good idea of how to set the right boundaries and take full charge of their own body.
ABC of Body Safety and Consent
ABC of Body Safety and Consent was written by Jayneen Sanders for kids aged 4 to 10. The author is a school teacher and a mother who writes many amazing books, this one being about body safety and consent skills.
An Exceptional Children's Guide to Touch
Body safety is one of the most important things children should learn about at a young age to help them protect themselves from potential dangers. This book serves as a guide around consent in setting boundaries and dealing with physical touch, and is particularly targeted at children with special needs.
I Said No!
I Said No! was written by Zack and Kimberly King for kids aged 5 to 10. Zack is a skater and surfer who advocates for kids’ safety because of a bad incident that he experienced in the past. His mum, Kimberly, is an early childhood educator and a sexual abuse prevention facilitator.
