I trust my daughter, but how do I evaluate someone I entrust with her safety in a scenario where she is not in charge of her own self? This goes for babysitters, teachers, friends' parents, camp staff, church volunteers, etc.
I'm not trying to shield my kids from pain or independence. I AM trying to protect them from catastrophe that they can neither see to avoid nor recover from if it happens to them.
One of my favorite Dr. Phil-isms is that trust isn't about trusting that the other party will never do the bad thing you are worried about. It is about trusting yourself to handle it if they do. Which goes back to: teach your daughter the skills she needs to protect herself -- then let her face those risks, a bit at a time. All those things you take for granted about walking to the store? You didn't intuit them -- nor did you learn them all because your mom gave you a lecture about not speaking to strangers and looking both ways before crossing the street. You learned them by facing an unknown, learning to identify risks, and identifying/implementing ways to mitigate those risks. And the more you did it, the more your abilities to do those necessary things grew, and the more confidence you had in your ability to face other unknowns.
It sounds like here, since this is another unknown, the "trust yourself to handle it if the shit does hit the fan" lesson applies to both your daughter and you. After all, this sort of thing is new to you both, right? So do your own due diligence, get your daughter as prepared as you can, and then let her go, trusting that she can manage a difficult or uncomfortable situation -- and trusting her to give her the support and guidance she would need if something bad were to happen.
Also, avoid hyperbole in your own mental self-talk. A "catastrophe" she can
never recover from? Yeah, no, not unless she actually dies. The higher you think the sexual assault numbers are -- and really, they are all over the place -- the more kids you have to believe
do recover from it. I mean, if you think 40% of women are sexually assaulted at some point, do you really think 40% of women are permanently damaged to the point of not being able to function and be happy? That is massively untrue. When you talk about risks, focus on the
real risks -- not the Big Bad Ugly that terrifies you (all of us). IOW, what is the actual kind of sexual assault she is likely to face? Words? Leering? Unwanted touching? Yes, it's bad, and no one ever wants their kid to be exposed to that. But people recover from things like that every day. Actual rape? Much less likely in that group scenario, much worse -- and yet again, people recover from it every day. It is hard, it is terrible, it is absolutely
not something we ever want our kids to face. And yet it's also not a world-ending catastrophe that will prevent her from living a full, happy life -- certainly not with all the support she'd get from having parents who care about her as much as you do.
I think that's what other folks meant by trying to do a rational analysis. It's not just finding one study or a couple of anecdotes and assuming the worst version of everything. 40% of women are
not raped -- they are touched, they face mental and physical aggression that is violative and not in any way ok, but that doesn't mean that they are all raped, beaten, and left for dead by the side of the road. Look at the variety of studies, look at how they all define sexual assault, look at what the numbers are for the different types of assault, look at the numbers for family/boyfriends vs. strangers, look at the numbers by socioeconomic status -- then evaluate the real risk based on those numbers.
FWIW, I am one of that 40%: when I was 13 on a bus to my dad's, I woke up with the guy next to me rubbing my leg, and getting really close to my privates. I had no clue what to do; this was c. 1980, and the environment was not nearly as supportive. So I pretended I was still asleep, shifted around, and dragged my skateboard over to smack his hand as I shifted. You know what? It sucked. I felt very vulnerable, on my own, on Greyhound, with no one I trusted to turn to without fear of them laughing at me or dismissing me. And yet I took care of it myself. I was also mugged downtown once at around 14, again on my own; by sheer dumb luck, I threw my hot chocolate on the guy, and he ran off. That one really scared me, because it was so sudden and unexpected. But I handled it. And neither one of those things had any effect on my long-term well-being -- if anything, I was
proud of myself for defending myself against people who were bigger/stronger/older.