Beware the White Van! How Do You Balance Safety with Fear?

Fear (of the van, of strangers…) replaces good commonsense.

Kids! Beware the white panel van!

I kid, sort of, but we got one of those robo calls from the school district superintendent last night informing us about two girls being approached or called out to, while they were walking home from school, by someone in a white van. (I’m sure a letter is coming, too, probably two copies of it in my boys’ separate homework folders, plus maybe another copy in the mail for good measure.)

We get a lot of these, all written or spoken with great gravity and engineered, in my opinion, to stoke the maximum of fear and helplessness. It’s just that this time, we were unlucky (or maybe lucky, now that I consider it) in that the call came in at dinnertime, and Daniel, my 10-year-old, grabbed the phone  (he has not gotten the “don’t answer the phone while we’re eating, especially if it’s the downstairs handset, whose display is broken so we can’t read the Caller ID” memo). He put the call on speakerphone in the center of the table.

So we find out – unhelpfully, I think – that these two students were “approached” by a man (or two men? Who can tell! The white van never has windows!) in a van. The girls ignored him, kept walking, and went home. They told their parents, and called the police.

Smart girls. Something which was not mentioned in the call. Of course.

At our table, a discussion ensued. My husband: “Why is it always a white van?” (Good question, but it always is!) Me: “Boys, look at me and listen. If a car or a van with someone you do not know stops near you and says anything to you, don’t respond. Just keep walking. If you feel uncomfortable or they don’t drive away, go up to someone’s house.” Daniel: “You mean, someone’s house who you know?” Me: “Not necessarily! If you’re on a street full of houses, I guarantee all of them will have people in them who will want to help you, or call me.”

Uncomfortably, my 8-year-old wanted to know what someone in a white van might want with him or those girls or anyone else. (What would you have said? I said they might want to take you away from us, but crossed my fingers under the table hoping he wouldn’t ask for what? Or forever?)

I knew, from the information provided in the call, what many of the families around me listening were taking away from this: My child would never be walking home from school, so we’re safe. Or, this happened in one of those neighborhoods, so no worries for us. Both are unfortunate takeaways, for different reasons – the first because there’s no such thing as perfectly safe, and never letting kids walk anywhere carries all kinds of other negative impacts. The second because, well, just because.

My safety-from-strangers information nearly always differs from that which the kids learn in school or, now, glean from robo calls or letters home, which come laden with fear-laced subtext that says, nothing and no one is safe.

I tell them that if they get separated from me at the mall, or find themselves in a situation that makes them feel uncomfortable or threatened, that they should to go into a store and ask a clerk, or go up to a person on the street or in front of a house, and ask for help. I tell them that 99.999% of folks are nice and will help, not hurt (but that the store clerk, in particular, is a good choice because he or she has a phone or a walkie-talkie).

Fear does this: It does not allow our kids to identify, and hone, their own oogie-meter. Their own instinct that the white van should not be slowing down near them, and so they should keep their eyes facing forward and keep walking, fast, toward a safe spot.

Do you get calls and letters like this? What do you do?