I have been trying out a new early-reading program with Graham the last few days, teaching him language skills that I hope will one day benefit him.

Teaching is what parents do, after all. Every day, every hour, we teach our children.

We teach them to read and to count and to identify colors. We teach them to tell time and do up their shoes and button their coats. We teach them about their body and their family and their history. We teach them to be gentle with animals and respectful of people and that manners and social skills make life easier and more pleasant.

But tonight it occurred to me that as Graham grows, he’ll be better off if I can prevent him from learning certain things: his intellectual and emotional life will develop in a more healthy fashion if I can, at the very least, delay his knowledge of certain truths that discourage and demoralize, that call into question our faith in the inherent goodness of humankind.

Strange, isn’t it, to think that sometimes a parent must work to ensure their child does not learn things? To think that thoughtful parenting is often a balancing act between revealing to our children some realities and shielding them from others.

There are certain things that I hope will dawn on Graham gradually, well after he has the maturity to deal with them: there are certain things I wish he never had to learn.

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