M (12) has decided she wants to watch horror movies and play horror games, and since I am a huge horror fan, I have decided to let her. We started with some campy 80’s horror and worked up from there. M put together her horror kit, which consists of a Marvel printed bedsheet, a stuffed face-hugger from Alien named Steve, a fluffy stuffed corgi, a pillow from the couch to hide behind if it gets to be too much, and we pile all that on the couch and watch together. Her dad, who is also a total weenie, has decided to join us. He gets a matching pillow to hide behind and snuggles up with her. They spend a lot of time jumping, gasping and giggling together.
We have some rules for this, as they are as follows:
- M can watch or play anything she wants, but she has to watch it with us and discuss it with us.
- Yes, anything.
- We reserve the right to warn her that the media may cause nightmares. If she ignores us, she reaps the consequences.
- M has the right to stop at any time if it gets to be too much without ridicule, even if M chose it or thought she wanted to see it it, or if we paid for it. We agreed we would pay for a movie once; if she wants to rent it again, she pays.
- M has limits. M wants to know beforehand if the movie has things she doesn’t want to see, such as zombies, rape, sexual assault, or child peril or death. M has the right not to watch these movies, no matter how “good” the movie is otherwise or if someone else wants to see it.
Why am I doing this, you might ask? Well, M has a computer. M has friends whose parents work and have their own tech. M has the ability to watch anything. She’s about to turn thirteen, is tech-savvy, and has access to everything. Even though I keep careful tabs on her media, I can’t control what she’ll encounter at friend’s houses or at school. I want her to know her own limits, but most of all, to know how to say no. I want her to know her own comfort levels. I want her to know what it feels like to say yes to something, get partway through, realize that she’s not comfortable, and be able to say no and have that respected. Movies are a good starting point for that.
M did that with The Babadook. She wanted “a really scary movie” and that was what she chose for herself. About haflway through, M said, “Never mind, that’s enough,” and I immediately turned it off, and we turned on all the lights and watched some comedy shows for a brain cleanse. I said nothing about the money we paid to rent it. About three weeks later, M said, “I want to try again. I want to prove to myself I can do it.” I did say I wouldn’t pay again, so we got it from Netflix (yes, we still get discs) and she tried again. It took a couple false starts, a few deep breaths and hugs from Steve and a pillow fort, but she made it through. Afterwards, we talked a lot about what the movie meant, about the symbolism of mental illness and grief, and about what horror movies can mean. We also talked about what it means to be scared. M mentioned that she felt deeply respected when we let her turn the movie off and return to it at her own pace. She said she felt like she could do that at a slumber party if the offering was too scary.
I want her to do that with more than a movie. I want her to have the strength to say no to a bad friend, a date, a bad relationship. I want her to know when to turn it off and walk away. I want her to stay strong and know her limits in all things. I also know that she’s reaching the age when I can’t control her. I have to let go. I need to trust that she’ll make good decisions. So far, she has. M also is learning to do her own research. She now looks up apps, movies and games on her own to see if they are something she wants to play, and has declined several based on their content without our interference. She has left internet servers when people make her uncomfortable and advised friends to do the same.
She decided to see if she was brave enough to try a scary game and played Bioshock this week. She completed it quickly. We talked through it and discussed the philosophy as well–objectivism, free will, and so on, and it led to hours of fabulous conversation. We also discussed violence. Bioshock is a beautiful game, but horrific too, and we talked about what it meant. Then we compared it to the last game she played, Persona 3, and talked about what they meant to her. What does violence mean to society? What do these games mean to you? How do you feel when you play them and why? And so on.
M needs to be brave enough to face a world scarier than any movie. I think she will be.
Edge Pieces 