Bottle-fed or breast-fed. Co-sleep or sleep training. Cloth or disposable. Child-led, parent-led. Public school, private school, homeschool, unschooled. Even spanking or no spanking, I honestly don’t care — it’s your business. I do care, however, when your parenting decisions affect my children, specifically if your kid can’t function as a decent human being.

In the past two years, on two separate occasions, four-year-olds have made me cry. They both called or implied that my now three-year-old daughter is ugly. Let me be clear, my daughter is stunningly beautiful: long dark lashes, blue-green eyes, and a sweet cherub face. Mix in her great sense of humor, intelligence, and cheekiness and she’s one of the best kids I know. (And to prove I’m not being biased, she can be a little mean to her older brother sometimes).

My daughter also was born with a genetic skin condition called congenital ichthyosifrom erythroderma (CIE) ichthyosis. Her skin cells grow at a rapid rate and don’t slough off as easily as the average person’s. This makes her skin appear red, flaky, and dry. We apply a thick cream numerous times a day, but the redness and dryness always manage to peek through within half an hour or so. It’s a rare condition and I like to think she and everyone else with ichthyosis are extraordinary: from the moment they are born, they require additional strength to overcome physical and emotional pain that many of us will never fathom. Due to the appearance of their skin and the rarity of the condition, individuals with ichthyosis are destined for a lifetime of questioning, judgment, and bullying.

My daughter was a year old when a four-year-old boy first called her ugly. Yesterday, at three-years-old, a four-year-old classmate told her “You’ll never get married because of your skin.” (That phrase from a four-year-old is a lot to unpack and the feminist in me is equally riled up, but one battle at a time). The first time the boy’s mother was present, she didn’t correct him, in fact she said “Oh, he’s tired.” The second time I explained the situation to the mother who heard me out but said, “Well, I can’t control what she says. I’ll talk to her, but I can’t guarantee it won’t happen again.”

Teach Your Kids to be Decent Human Beings

Before my daughter was born, I had additional run-ins with parents who, frankly, were doing a sh*tty job. My son, on two different occasions, was pushed from behind by kids his age who we did not know. The first time, the mom almost laughed and told me her son plays some kind of fighting game with his older siblings. She did not advise him that he shouldn’t push people without their consent. The second time, the mom said in that parental sing-song voice “Oh, we don’t push others” and she explained that, again it’s a game he plays with his siblings. I don’t know this game, I also don’t understand the phrase “Boys will be boys.” My son doesn’t push, kick, or fight with anyone he doesn’t know, nor with anyone he does without their consent.

As adults we are expected not to push anyone — if we do, it’s called assault.

As adults, there is a code of politeness and decency — it’s not okay to put muddy feet on a restaurant chair, for example. It’s not ok to call people names. It’s not cool to litter. Yes, many adults get away with these and other examples, but collectively if the group sees it, it’s often called out and social shame gets applied. Ideally.

Apply the Same Rules to Children

I understand children are developing and oftentimes their emotions are incredibly huge. I understand they require explanations and everything in the world is new. That’s OK. There are basic things that people, regardless of age, can understand: be kind to others and kind to your surroundings.

That means don’t call people names, don’t push people, don’t stand on chairs or throw toys, and other basic actions that if an adult did would constitute people distancing themselves from that individual.

How do you explain this to a child? At the moment your kid says something mean or is destructive, get down to their eye level and in your stern voice (not the damn sing-song voice you use when he’s taking too long to get his shoes on or she’s complaining she’s bored) let him or her know his or her actions are not ok. Here’s a script:

“That is not acceptable. We do not [insert action]. When you do that, it [insert reason]. You do not do that, do you understand me?”

If they do it again immediately, remove them from the area. If they do it again in the future, repeat, and think of other ways to hammer this lesson into your child. Apologize to any people who may be hurt by your child’s words or need to clean up their mess; do not, under any circumstances, shrug and say anything to the extent, “Well, she’s just a four-year-old, what are you going to do?” Do your job as a parent.

Thankfully, Most Parents Are Exceptional

I like it when kids ask about my daughter’s skin, there is usually a look of concern or intense curiosity. They are usually incredibly kind and simply want to know why she looks different. Sometimes parents cut them off for the sake of being polite and I assure them it’s ok (It really is! And thank you for trying to raise a polite and kind child!)

Unfortunately, I can tell by a child’s tone and how he or she asks questions if their parents have put in an effort to teach them decency. The boy who called my infant ugly had a nasty edge, “Why’s her skin so ugly? Well, why can’t you fix it?” His voice was cutting, I got a glimpse of a teenage bully.

The little girl had an air of importance. She determined she was better than my little girl and she was going to let her know it.

In both cases the conversation began with me patiently explaining what ichthyosis is and how we’re all made differently, it’s the child version of a speech I’ve become accustomed to delivering over the last three years.

If these three and four-year-olds can be so cruel, they are capable of understanding that saying mean things to others is not ok.

But how do they know they are being mean? How do they know what is socially acceptable? They are little, they don’t know anything.

I, as a stranger, can point out, “Hey, that’s really not nice, you’re being mean.” Now it’s up to the parent. After both instances I’ve described when I was apart from the kids, I cried. I felt powerless in those moments. If an adult had said those things to my daughter, that’s an even playing field. I can tell them what I think using all the curse words I want to.

For a child, it’s different. My mother raised me to be kind (perhaps she did too good of a job) I do not feel comfortable reprimanding a kid I have no responsibility for, nor do I want to curse out a four-year-old. That’s why it hurt so badly when the parent failed to rectify the situation.

Over and over for possibly the rest of her life, my daughter will need to conjure immeasurable strength to deal with kids whose parents failed to teach them kindness. Will your child be one of the bullies or one of the sweet kiddos that puts a kind hand on my daughter’s shoulder?

To the mother who said her kid was tired and implied that’s enough reason to call others names (and by the way be incredibly disruptive in the quiet pottery studio that we were in) — I’m quite tired, is it OK if I tell you you’re doing a terrible job with your bratty kid?

To the mother who said she can’t control what her kids say- no you can’t. But it’s your job to point out when your kid is being an a$$hole. Tell them their behavior is not okay, why it’s not okay, and how they can make better decisions.

To all the parents: Parenting is hard. Let’s make it a little easier for each other by doing our part. Teach your kids to be kind to other people and their surroundings. I promise it’ll make everyone’s lives a little easier. It’s not too early to start teaching decency. If a four-year-old thinks it’s okay to call people names, imagine what they’ll say and do as a fourteen-year-old.