The Privilege of Assumed Expertise

Did you ever notice that the phrases that we say the most, like ‘Don’t judge a book by it’s cover’ are actually the things we do the most often?
 
I guess that’s why we tell ourselves we shouldn’t do it. We’re trying to talk ourselves out of a habit that is deeply ingrained in all of us.
 
Because we absolutely do judge books by their covers. Literally, and metaphorically.
 
And we make a lot of assumptions based on superficial information.
 
Recently, I took a trip with my 16-year-old son. This is a kid who grew up with hardly any access to television. His internet access has always been restricted and limited. He doesn’t own a phone. He doesn’t have an ipad.
 
And even though his grandparents know this, I still heard them repeatedly say things like,
 
“You would know how to fix this connection issue” or
 
“You would know how to set that up” or
 
“Can you change the settings on my phone for me? You know how to do that, right?”
 
Assumed Expertise.
 
Teenage boy = qualified tech support.
 
Even though his lived experience does not actually make him an expert with technology or phone settings.
 
I say, must be nice. (with a little tongue in cheek, because I don’t LOVE the saying ‘must be nice’)
 
My children have attended 4 different local schools and I have failed to convince any of them that I have expertise in Child Sexual Abuse Prevention.
 
Even though my lived and work experience does in fact demonstrate my expertise.
 
No matter how I introduced myself. No matter what challenges I observed that could have been resolved. No matter how many times my children reported unsafe situations. No matter how clearly these schools fostered a culture that lacked safety.
 
My expertise has not been acknowledged by those who work closely with my children.
 
Most recently one of these schools has declined my offer to train their staff. Even though school situations are clearly out of hand, and the administrators are unable to offer any solutions to the harms that my child is exposed to. Regularly. And I’m talking very significant harms that have wide reaching implications.
 
My offer for training was declined and it was suggested that my role as facilitator is a conflict of interest as my child is a student at their school. 
 
Conflict of interest?
 
Are we skipping right past my expertise and now suggesting that my skills are not appropriate for the staff who care for my child? What exactly is the conflict? I want kids to be protected. 
 
What is it that the school wants that conflicts with that goal?
 
You know what else people say? They say it’s hardest to be seen (for what skills you have) by those who are closest to you. The way a family still sees the youngest as the baby, even though that baby is an adult with a career. 
 
When I reach out and connect with adults who serve kids outside of my community, it is far less of an issue. 
 
But when my own children are being cared for, the adults in charge don’t see me and Assume Expertise. 

They see me as a mom. And maybe a helicopter parent (which I am not). And maybe a nuisance (which I definitely am). 
 
My son enjoys the privilege of Assumed Expertise. Even though it could be his sister who actually knows how to do the tech set up, or change the phone settings. He’s the one who people turn to for expertise.
 
Right now, we give our youth-serving leaders Assumed Expertise when it comes to child safety. We give this to sports associations and coaches.
 
Even though the evidence does not suggest that they deserve that privilege. It is under their watch that 34% of children experience child sexual abuse by age 18.
 
The news has been filled with accounts of youth leaders claiming that abuse is not their responsibility. 
 
They say that they can’t do better. They say that it’s not their fault when one of their teachers or coaches harms a child.
 
Nobody really gets hurt when we judge a book by its cover. But people are hurt when we grant unqualified people Assumed Expertise.
 
When we assume that bus drivers, teachers, principals, dentists, doctors, coaches, tutors, and babysitters are going to keep kids safe from sexual abuse, we are making a dangerous assumption.
 
Instead of assuming, let’s ask:
 
‘What do you have in place to protect children from sexual abuse?’
 
In the same way that we tell each other ‘don’t judge a book by it’s cover’, we must ask each other ‘what are you doing to keep kids safe?’. 

We advocate for parents and caregivers to ask this question and we support organizations to be prepared to answer it.

If you want your organization to be prepared to tell caregivers what you are doing to protect children, register to Walk the Talk with us today.

There is no cost for you to prepare your answer. Let's work together to keep kids safe.

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