Recently, President Trump’s rhetoric has unsettled many Southern California residents. The implication that a foreign adversary could unleash violence has alarmed us, especially our children. Kids sense fear differently; they feel it passing through adults like a storm without understanding its source. So when there’s uncertainty, how can they depend on us for reassurance and protection?

Adults have the luxury of context. We can parse political statements, debate intent, and argue over what was meant and what was not. We can turn on the television, scroll through our phones and decide for ourselves whether what we hear should frighten us.

Children don’t have the tools.

They hear the words and watch the faces of the adults around them.

They notice when conversations become tense, when their parents reach for their phones to check the latest news. When children hear adults talk about attacks, invasion, violence or the possibility that their own communities could be harmed, they do not necessarily understand the political argument behind those words.

They understand one thing: Something bad could happen here.

As president and CEO of San Diego Center for Children, a major provider of children’s mental health services, I lead a team that works daily with children and families facing fear, instability and uncertainty. We understand that safety is not a luxury but a developmental necessity.

When children face ongoing stress without support, their survival instincts stay active. This preoccupation with safety leaves less mental space for learning and curiosity, limiting their potential. We know fear affects more than feelings; it impairs their ability to simply be children.

Children across this country are already telling us they are struggling. In 2023, four in 10 U.S. high school students reported persistent feelings of hopelessness, and one in five seriously considered attempting suicide.

We should be asking ourselves a simple question: What are we adding to that burden?

Political disagreement isn’t inherently harmful to children; it’s essential to democracy. We must teach kids that reasonable people can differ. However, there’s a difference between showing children democracy’s complexity and, through witnessing behavior, implying they and their communities are disposable.

When adults dismiss concerns as “just words,” it’s crucial to recognize who actually listens. Children absorb messages from bedrooms, classrooms, back seats, playgrounds and dinner tables. They hear adults talk about safety concerns and joke about hurting communities.

And to those adults: Remember the children you love. Remember the child whose hand you hold as you cross the street. Remember the grandchild whose school picture is on your refrigerator. Remember the daughter who assumes home is the safest place in the world.

The children in San Diego and Los Angeles are no different.

Children do not choose the circumstances of their birth. They do not choose our conflicts, our divisions, or the uncertainty surrounding them.

But they live with the consequences of all three.

Our job as adults is to protect the space kids need to become who they’re meant to be. That does not mean shielding children from reality. It means remembering that the words spoken by people with enormous platforms do not disappear when the microphone is turned off. Those words become questions children ask their parents before bed.

Are we safe? Could that happen here? What would happen to our family?

A child who feels unsafe is not fully available for healthy development. And a child who grows up believing instability is normal may carry that expectation into relationships, schools, workplaces, and communities for years to come.

We cannot control every frightening thing children will encounter. But we can control the environment we create around them. We can discuss difficult realities without making fear the currency of public life.

And perhaps most importantly, we can remember that leadership is not simply about what adults are willing to say. It is about what children are forced to carry after we say it.

Arrastia-DeVries is president and CEO of San Diego Center for Children, a nonprofit providing comprehensive mental health care and education services to children and families throughout San Diego County.