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"What does 'release' mean in The Giver?", my daughter asked me this morning, when she had just started reading the novel on a strong recommendation from myself and both her older brothers.

"I can't tell you that, it will spoil the reading experience!" I answered. "What do you think of the book so far?"

"Well, the community has many rules."

"Is that good or bad, do you think?"

"I don't know, some rules are good, but some seem a bit too much. Like not being allowed to choose your profession."

We went on to talk about rules serving to protect human beings from chaos (like traffic rules, for example, or rules that protect the freedom and well-being of all people acting in a shared space), and rules serving to control thoughts and actions (like oppressive dogma).

Later, when I arrived at school, I changed an introductory lesson plan for my mentor class to include a discussion on the validity of certain rules (like school rules, for example), and the importance of distinguishing them from oppressive ones. Reading and talking about books with my children has a major effect on my professional choices.

In the evening, my daughter came back into my room, looking sad and bewildered. She had figured out what "release"stands for, and she was confused. This is her first encounter with dystopian fiction, and she was shocked by the power of euphemisms (without knowing the term itself). My middle son joined the discussion and reprimanded me for telling his sister what the word means.

"I figured it out myself!" she said, and he nodded approvingly.

"We spent several lessons discussing release in class", he added, and started talking about the ethical dilemma of the book: how much did the characters know of the sinister undercurrents of the community? Since they were deliberately held outside history and memory, and were taught limited facts, how much understanding could they possibly have gained?

"Jonas' dad was a nice man!" My kids insisted. And still he released the baby.

"Rosemary released herself, and I don't think she was a failure at all, she just couldn't bear all those feelings without anyone to share. It is horrible if you are alone!" My daughter is adamant.

I listened to my children, communicating their thoughts, reflecting on a society so scared of passionate emotions and painful memories that they have abolished them, and I felt grateful that we aren't there just yet. We still read books, talk about them, communicate our worries, reflect on the good and bad aspects of highly regulated societies, and we all see the different colours in the world. We may not like them, and we may be scared of both colours and sounds and emotions that we aren't familiar with, but we have not turned into complacent, numb non-thinkers like the people in the world of The Giver. We still care enough to have all those scary feelings: fear, anger, frustration, passionate love and longing.

Let us keep reading and talking and communicating with the next generation to prevent our world from becoming careless and resistant to human emotions. Let us practice the skill of giving and receiving knowledge of the world and help each other carry the pain it brings, so that joy is not lost along with sorrow.

The Giver is a perfect novel to introduce the great questions of our time to a young and curious audience!