A few weeks ago, during a play date, my daughter and her best friend were sitting across the table from another 4-year-old, having an after-school snack. The peace was interrupted by my daughter, who noted, “Nina is sitting next to nobody.” A banal observation quickly turned into a nasty refrain that my daughter and her strategically situated friend sang over and over. Nina is sitting next to nobody. Nina is sitting next to nobody.

One of the hardest choices parents face is when to intervene in our children’s lives. Each day we are forced to make countless micro decisions that, en masse, add up to a de facto parenting philosophy.

My daughter’s taunts sounded so familiar — the trolling of an innocent victim who happened to draw the ire of a powerful, vocal bully. I wanted to let the children learn to deal with conflict on their own terms. But when Nina looked about to cry, I relented: “Guys, please apologize to Nina for hurting her feelings.” It was, after all, America, and I wanted my daughter to have friends.

Kids don’t live in a bubble, so why do we try to shelter them from conflict? One of the earliest lessons you learn at school is about the boundless cruelty of other children. And that bullies can win. Yet contrary to these early playground lessons in realpolitik, children are consistently taught to avoid conflict by well-meaning parents, teachers and caregivers because that’s how we want the world to work. We raise our children in gilded playpens, shielding them from criticism and alternative views.

Mr. Trump has convinced me to give my daughter some tough love. To expose her to critical opinions, to make her listen to views she might not like or agree with. I don’t want her to lose it when somebody like Donald Trump is elected. More than anything, I want her to be able to defend herself and fight back.

I want my daughter to learn to say no confidently and unapologetically. Dealing with conflict is also about standing up for yourself as a woman, whether a man is talking over you at a meeting or trying to engage in unwanted sexual behavior. If we learn early how to have difficult or uncomfortable conversations up front, we don’t need others to fill in the gaps, make our decisions or read our minds. But if we can’t stand up to conflict, we risk becoming the snowflakes that the Donald Trumps and the wagging tongues on the right make us out to be.

Finally, I want my daughter to think about the larger world, beyond the echo chamber that narrowly reflects her own experiences and views. I want her to think beyond the “me” in #MeToo. I want her to think about women, but I also want her to think of men, of the poor, minorities and the people who might not be part of the most trendy Instagram hashtag.

Because all I’ve heard for the past 18 months is about Donald Trump.