Why I’m Teaching My Daughters to Be Rude

Article here. Excerpt:

'A few years ago, I was walking near my apartment with my daughters, then 7 and 4, when an older man I recognized from the neighborhood began to talk to them. He wasn’t in any apparent way a threat, but he wasn’t a friend, either. Both of my girls are by nature slow to warm up and have a healthy dose of stranger danger.
...
For the remaining two blocks to our apartment, I told my daughters that they did exactly the right thing, that they never had to talk to someone they didn’t know, especially when that person is talking about the way they look. A conversation required them to use their voice, which is part of their body, and their bodies are theirs alone.

I was angry at myself for apologizing for them, for modeling bad habits when, by standing silent, they clearly already knew what to do. I decided that I would teach them to be rude. I would no longer teach them that they owe anyone smiles or gratitude for being noticed. I would no longer train them to weaken their boundaries for the sake of being polite.
...
I still see this man, this man who had assessed his own harmlessness without understanding the cycle of harm he was perpetuating, who thought it was his right to have a conversation with little girls because he appreciated the way they looked. My neighborhood is small and friendly, but I no longer make eye contact with him, and I certainly don’t smile. I speed my fleet-foot daughters past him, and I don’t feel bad about it at all.'