What Exactly Do You Think ‘Parental Rights’ Means? 

By Delegate Geary Higgins 

You’ve probably heard the phrase “parental rights” a lot lately. Maybe you’ve even seen it dismissed by pundits, the school board, or activists as some kind of dog whistle. But here’s the truth: there’s nothing extreme about believing that moms and dads—not bureaucrats, not activists, and certainly not politicians—should be the ones raising their own children. 

Because here’s what it really means when we say parental rights: 

It means parents should be told—before, not after—the school starts calling their child by a different name, different pronouns, and treating them as the opposite sex. 

It means parents have a right to know what books are being assigned, what lessons are being taught, and whether ideology is being smuggled in under the banner of “diversity.” 

It means parents should decide if and when their child gets exposed to discussions about sex—not some third-party contractor brought into a classroom. 

It means no school nurse, counselor, or administrator should ever be allowed to facilitate a medical or psychological transition behind a parent’s back. 

And it definitely means that when your child’s life or identity is in turmoil, the school shouldn’t be treating you—the parent—as the threat. 

But that’s what’s happening in many school systems across Virginia. And let’s be clear: it’s not because of rogue teachers. It’s because of policies adopted by local school boards, encouraged by national groups, and too often defended by Democratic politicians. 

They say they’re “protecting” kids … From whom? 

From the people who carried them? Raised them? Fed them, taught them right from wrong, and stayed up all night when they were sick? 

They say “some parents won’t understand.” But if the school system’s first instinct is to cut moms and dads out of the loop, maybe they’re the ones who don’t understand what parenting actually is. 

We trust parents with everything from feeding their kids to vaccinating them to signing permission slips for Tylenol. But suddenly, when it comes to the most consequential, irreversible decisions a child could ever face—like changing gender or starting hormone treatments—the Left wants parents out of the room? 

That’s not compassion. That’s control. 

And here’s the part that should make every parent’s blood run cold: About the only time the Left defendsparental rights is when a mom or dad wants to put their child on puberty blockers, start cross-sex hormones, or approve surgery to remove healthy body parts. 

That’s the one moment Democrats suddenly discover parental authority: when it means approving a permanent medical intervention on a child who isn’t old enough to drive a car, smoke a cigarette or buy cough syrup. 

They’ll fight tooth and nail to keep parents from seeing classroom materials, knowing about social transitions, or objecting to sexually explicit books, but they’ll stand up and cheer when a parent signs a consent form for “top surgery.” 

That’s not consistency. That’s absurdity.

‘Parental rights’ means involvement, guidance, and love—not blind affirmation and irreversible harm. And we should never let the loudest voices redefine parental rights to mean anything else. 

Right here in Virginia, Democratic delegates voted against Governor Youngkin’s model policies that simply required schools to notify parents if their child asked to socially transition at school. Not consent. Just notify. 

Why? Because they know parental rights are a barrier to their agenda. 

But here’s the thing, in the Commonwealth, children don’t belong to the government. They don’t belong to the school. They don’t belong to the state. They belong to families. 

That used to be common sense. Now it’s a fight. 

Let me say it plainly, you cannot be pro-parent and anti-parental rights. 

So the next time someone rolls their eyes at “parental rights,” ask them a simple question: What exactly do you think it means?