When it comes to politics, is it more important to share with our children our preferred candidate and explain why we agree with everything they say, or to explain that we support the one whose values align most closely with our own?

Politics used to be something adults discussed during election years. Now it’s woven into daily life, family conversations, social media feeds, classrooms, and even our children’s identities. As parents, we are facing a new question: How do we raise children with strong moral foundations in a country where political loyalty often matters more than character? A recent study from the Pew Research Center revealed that 35% of U.S. parents said it was extremely or very important that their children grow up to share their religious views, while only 16% said the same about political views. However, both numbers were overshadowed in the survey by what parents overwhelmingly said matters most: passing down core values—like being honest, ethical, hardworking, compassionate, and ambitious. That speaks volumes.

In a time when political division dominates headlines and dinner tables, parents are quietly saying something profound: our children’s character matters more than their political alignment. And they’re right.

Politicians come and go. A president—whether it’s Donald Trump, Joe Biden, or anyone else—occupies office for a limited number of years. But the values we instill in our children will shape not only their future, but the nation’s future far beyond any election cycle. So while shouting matches over political ideology may feel urgent, the real work of parenting happens not in debates, but through consistent daily modeling.

As a mother and a Catholic, the value I have always emphasized most is this: the dignity of every human person. My faith teaches that every person is made in the image and likeness of God. But even if you come from a different belief system, I think we can agree on this universal truth: respect for life—all life—is essential for a just society. Repeat that sentence out loud.

God gave the Ten Commandments, and still humanity struggled. So in the New Testament, Christ distilled everything into two simple laws:

“Love God above all things, and love your neighbor as yourself.”

If we truly lived those two commandments, everything else would fall into place. You wouldn’t steal from your neighbor if you loved them. You wouldn’t hate them for their differences. You wouldn’t diminish their dignity because you didn’t understand their identity or convictions.

Right now, we are being baited into anger. Political leaders—on all sides—are using fear, outrage, and division to gain power. They want us to see “the other side” as enemies rather than people. This is not leadership. This is manipulation.

And as parents, we must rise above it, if for no other reason than our children are watching.

I truly empathize with the youth of today. It is difficult—perhaps more difficult than at any other point in modern history—to grow up in a time where technology has removed every barrier between personal life and the world’s problems. Young people are no longer just forming their identities within their family and school; they are forming them in a digital arena where they are constantly watched, compared, evaluated, and influenced.

According to the National Institute of Mental Health, rates of adolescent anxiety and depression have increased by nearly 60% over the past decade, and suicide is now the second leading cause of death among people ages 10 to 24. Some may attribute this rise to better awareness and diagnosis—and yes, that plays a role. But I believe there is something deeper at work: our children are emotionally overwhelmed because they are mentally overstimulated.

In my generation, our exposure to the world was limited. We might have caught a short segment of the morning news or glanced at the newspaper before heading to school. Our information during the day came from textbooks. When we got home, we watched the evening news or spoke to a friend over the phone. There were natural boundaries around what we could consume emotionally and mentally.

Today, those boundaries no longer exist. Most young people carry a smartphone that keeps them plugged into a constant stream of news stories, social media posts, world crises, celebrity scandals, political outrage, war footage, and comparisons to every “perfect” life posted on the internet. They are witnessing things hourly that previous generations only encountered occasionally—if at all.

They’ve seen protests unfold in real time. They’ve seen families fight online. They’ve watched loved ones “unfriend” each other over political disagreement. They’ve seen adults—who should be the model of maturity—get on teenagers’ social media and publicly berate them for their views. I personally would never get on a niece’s or nephew’s social media post to confront them about their beliefs. You’re an adult, if it’s that important that you interact with them about their political views, maybe it would be best in a more intimate setting where you can demonstrate love and understanding as you speak. Yet today, there doesn’t seem to be any boundary about where or when one can take up their political banter with someone else.

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Raising Children of Conscience—Not Conformity

We do not want our children to be guided by society’s ever-shifting ideology, nor do we want them to blindly align with a political tribe. Our goal as parents must be to form our children’s conscience. A conscience is rooted in values, truth, and moral reasoning—it asks, “What is right?” rather than “What does my group think?”

Yet today, far too many young people—and adults—have outsourced their conscience to their political party. When major issues arise—immigration, poverty, life issues, religious freedom, human rights—are our children being taught to think critically and compassionately? Or are they simply being shown how to check where their political affiliation stands and repeat the talking points?

To me, it is both shocking and deeply concerning that it has become nearly impossible to find someone who openly disagrees with their political party on even one single issue. How can that be? Outside of politics, no two human beings hardly ever agree perfectly on anything. And yet, within politics, people align with 100% loyalty even when it contradicts the values they claim to hold.

This is not the development of conscience. This is conformity.

As parents, our message to our children should not be:
“This is the right answer because our party says so.”
But rather:
“Here is the principle we live by. Here is why honesty matters. Here is why human dignity matters. And if any leader—left or right—contradicts those values, then we do not support that behavior, regardless of the letter after their name.”

If we teach our children that truth is determined by their values, not by their political tribe, then we raise thinkers. If we teach them that morality is non-negotiable, then we raise leaders.

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Think about the character values you want your children to carry into adulthood—values that will guide them long after you are gone. Once you identify those core values (honesty, integrity, compassion, courage, respect for life), the key is consistency.

If your rule is that we do not lie, then that must apply across the board—to your children, to yourself, and yes, even to leaders you may otherwise agree with. We cannot teach our children that lying is wrong while simultaneously making excuses for it when someone on “our side” does it. If we want children of conscience, we must be adults of conscience.

When a public figure is accused of lying, the parenting opportunity is not to defend or attack the person based on party affiliation; it is to reinforce the value:

“Lying is not the right thing to do. We hope they acknowledge it, take responsibility, and make amends.”

That doesn’t require political debate. It doesn’t require judgment of the individual’s entire character. What it does require is moral clarity—a clear articulation of right versus wrong that is not swayed by party, personality, or popularity.

We don’t have to be watchdogs over every issue or every person. But when something is plainly wrong, our children need to hear us say so—not with anger, not with scorched-earth rhetoric, but with the steady conviction of someone who knows what they stand for.

Because if we only stand for our values when it is easy or politically beneficial, then they were