1384: I do not mention the war in my birthplace to my six-year-old son but somehow his body knows by Julia Kolchinsky

Summary

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Episode Overview

Podcast: The Slowdown: Poetry & Reflection Daily
Host: Maggie Smith
Episode: 1384: I do not mention the war in my birthplace to my six-year-old son but somehow his body knows by Julia Kolchinsky
Date: October 29, 2025

In this poignant episode, host Maggie Smith contemplates the unique role poetry plays in navigating difficult conversations with children—particularly about mortality, trauma, and the realities of the world parents bring their children into. The centerpiece is Julia Kolchinsky’s moving poem, which explores the unspoken legacies of violence and war as they linger across generations, even when never directly shared. Smith reflects on her own experiences as a parent faced with heavy questions, underscoring how poetry becomes a vessel for complexities and unanswerable truths.

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Key Discussion Points & Insights

Children’s Big Questions and Parental Challenges

• Parental Perspective on Children’s Inquiries
  Maggie Smith opens with reflections on her daughter's philosophical and existential queries from a young age.
  • "Children are so talented at asking unanswerable questions, questions that cut you to the quick." (00:51)
• Examples of Difficult Questions
  Ranging from the innocent, “How do leaves fall off the trees?” to the profound, “Are you going to die before me?”
  • "Are you going to die before me? And where will you be when you die?" (02:10)
• Navigating Honesty and Protection
  The challenge for parents: telling the truth without overwhelming or frightening their children.
  • "No matter how old you are as a parent, it feels like an impossible task, telling the truth, or at least the truth as you know it, and not saying anything that will sadden or flat out terrify your children." (02:31)
• Role of Poetry in Parental Reflection
  • "As a poet, I often ended up writing my way through those big ideas. Poems are the perfect containers for questions without easy answers." (03:17)

The Poem: Unspoken Trauma and Generational Resonance

• Julia Kolchinsky’s Poem
  The host introduces the poem “I do not mention the war in my birthplace to my six-year-old son but somehow his body knows,” highlighting its resonance with parental anxieties and untranslatable histories. (03:37 onward)
• Key sections of the poem:
  • A child, unknowing of his mother's trauma, asks about division in simple, childlike terms:
    • "If I cut you in half, will you be even?" (recited at 03:48)
  • The parent’s silent reckoning with the invisible wounds of war:
    • "Expecting mothers in Mariupol are cut by invisible hands, children cut off from water."
  • The child seeks logical certainty (“You divided by two equals two even yous”), but the parent faces the truth of mortality:
    • "If you cut me in half, I tell him, I’d be dead." (05:29)

Poetry as a Vessel for Unanswerable Questions

• Smith’s Response to the Poem
  • She shares the poem "made my breath catch in my throat because it captures so well these beautiful and sometimes heartbreaking conversations that parents have with their children." (03:35)
• Poetry Holds Unspoken Truths
  • She concludes that poetry becomes essential for giving shape to the intangible—serving as both reflection and survival.

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Notable Quotes & Memorable Moments

• “Children are so talented at asking unanswerable questions, questions that cut you to the quick.” – Maggie Smith (00:51)
• “No matter how old you are as a parent, it feels like an impossible task, telling the truth, or at least the truth as you know it, and not saying anything that will sadden or flat out terrify your children.” – Maggie Smith (02:31)
• “Poems are the perfect containers for questions without easy answers.” – Maggie Smith (03:17)
• [Poem—child’s question:] “If I cut you in half, will you be even?” – Julia Kolchinsky, as recited by Maggie Smith (03:48)
• [Poem—parent’s answer:] “If you cut me in half, I tell him, I’d be dead.” – Julia Kolchinsky, as recited by Maggie Smith (05:29)

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Timestamps for Important Segments

• 00:51 – Opening reflection: Children’s existential questions
• 02:10 – When questions turn personal and difficult for parents
• 03:17 – The role of poetry in responding to life’s complexities
• 03:37 – Introduction and reading of Julia Kolchinsky’s poem
• 05:29 – Poem’s emotional conclusion and Smith’s commentary

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Tone and Style

Intimate and reflective, Maggie Smith’s delivery weaves personal anecdotes with poetic insight, fostering a gentle, contemplative mood. Both the poem and Smith’s interpretation embrace vulnerability, emphasizing the power of poetry to carry, hold, and sometimes articulate what everyday language cannot.

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This episode of The Slowdown is a heartfelt meditation on generational memory, the challenges of honest parenting, and the singular place of poetry in helping us face what cannot be easily said—reminding listeners of the small but vital space poetry creates for hope and understanding.

Transcript

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[C]

I'm Maggie Smith and this is the Slowdown Children are so talented at asking unanswerable questions, questions that cut you to the quick. I remember driving around with my daughter Violet when she was in preschool, just three or four years old, and she would ask me these enormous existential questions from her booster seat behind me. I still remember the questions as clearly as if she asked them yesterday. What is the world for? And what is the past? And why is the sky so tall and over everything? My personal favorite was this how do leaves fall off the trees? And how did God build this car? I mean, where to even begin? Sometimes I'd catch her eyes in the rear view mirror and just think, who is this kid? But she also, especially as she got a little older, 6, 7, 8, started to ask questions that were even harder to answer because they were more personal. Are you going to die before me? And where will you be when you die? Parents have been struggling to answer questions about mortality since the beginning of time. Sometimes the questions our children ask are even harder to navigate because they are about the world we live in, the world we brought them to. My daughter asked questions about 9, 11, and wars and natural disasters and other parts of human history that are difficult to parse. No matter how old you are as a parent, it feels like an impossible task, telling the truth, or at least the truth as you know it, and not saying anything that will sadden or flat out terrify your children. We don't get any training in how to have these conversations. If you end up parenting a very philosophical kid, you have to learn to think on the fly. I'm not sure I always answered those questions to my daughter's satisfaction, but I did my best, and as a poet, I often ended up writing my way through those big ideas. Poems are the perfect containers for questions without easy answers. Today's poem made my breath catch in my throat because it captures so well these beautiful and sometimes heartbreaking conversations that parents have with their children. I do not mention the war in my birthplace to my 6 year old son, but somehow his body knows. By Julia Kulchinsky My face in his hands before bed, he asks if I cut you in half, will you be even? I am silent. Expecting mothers and mariupol are cut by invisible hands, Children cut off by from water. Because you have two eyes plus two ears plus two cheeks plus so much hair plus your mouth can have two halves. So you would be even, right? He wants simple math breath that outlasts violence. You divided by two equals two even use. He isn't asking anymore. He is making me monument. You would still be if I cut you in half, small hands demand a splitting. If you cut me in half, I tell him, I'd be dead. Slowdown is a production of American Public Media in partnership with the Poetry Foundation. To get a poem delivered to you daily, go to slowdownshow.org and sign up for our newsletter. And find us on Instagram atdowndownshow and blueskylowdownshow.org.

[D]

What is poetry's role when the world is burning? Or so asked Christian Wyman once. These days, that question is no metaphor. In a culture marked by unrest and anxiety, beauty can feel like a luxury or even a distraction. But what if art and poetry are exactly what we need this fall? And no Small Endeavor, I'm inviting you to consider poetry as survival, as protest, as prayer, as and as hope. Our new series, Poetry against the Dark, premieres on October 20th. You'll hear from Joy Harjo, Halle, Liza Ghafori, and Padre Gautuma, each showing how poetry can guide us through grief, nurture community, and spark imagination. Because if we are to make it through the fires of our time, perhaps beauty is not optional. It's essential. Follow no Small Endeavor on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you listen to podcasts.