The parade went on, but her words stayed with me. That night, back in our hotel room, I found myself digging deeper. I read about Britain’s imperial past—the riches taken, cultures changed, and ongoing inequalities. The more I learned, the more I realized how little I’d considered these complexities while planning what was supposed to be a lighthearted family outing.
Months later at home, my daughter surprised me with a thoughtful question: “Mom, why do some people love the queen if she wasn’t nice to everyone?” That was the moment I’d been quietly hoping for. We sat down and talked—about ceremonies and colonies, traditions and responsibility, heroes who aren’t without flaws. She listened closely and asked more questions, and I felt proud we could explore both the sparkle and the shadows together.
That woman’s blunt approach still felt a bit harsh, but her challenge pushed me to think harder and show my children how to be curious and open-minded. I can’t shield them from every uncomfortable truth, but I can help them face the world with thoughtful questions and empathy. If a stranger’s challenge can lead to richer conversations, maybe that awkward moment in Brighton was a parenting win after all.