It's 2012. Do You Know Where Your Children Are? (Yes. They're Not Allowed Out.)
We all have stories like this. I used to get on my bike on Saturday and ride it around all day. Kids would take the city bus or subway to school. Kids would roam around in packs. Kids would play in the street until it got dark. Kids were free.
The contrast between then and now is pretty stark. From the MailOnline:
When George Thomas was eight he walked everywhere.
It was 1926 and his parents were unable to afford the fare for a tram, let alone the cost of a bike and he regularly walked six miles to his favourite fishing haunt without adult supervision.
Fast forward to 2007 and Mr Thomas's eight-year-old great-grandson Edward enjoys none of that freedom.
He is driven the few minutes to school, is taken by car to a safe place to ride his bike and can roam no more than 300 yards from home.
This can't be a good development, can it? Is the world really that much more dangerous, or are we paranoid and fearful and raising up a generation of terrified children?
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Comments:
Re: It's 2012. Do You Know Where Your Children Are? (Yes. They're Not Allowed Out.)
KC Mulville: Moms are different, of course, but my job as a father is NOT to protect my children from the dangers of the world.
My job is to teach them how to live in that world, dangers and all. · 2 hours ago
Very nicely put.
Re: It's 2012. Do You Know Where Your Children Are? (Yes. They're Not Allowed Out.)
Brilliant. And heartbreaking.
Aug '11
Re: It's 2012. Do You Know Where Your Children Are? (Yes. They're Not Allowed Out.)
KC Mulville: Moms are different, of course, but my job as a father is NOT to protect my children from the dangers of the world.
My job is to teach them how to live in that world, dangers and all. · 2 hours ago
And in order to avoid Mama Bear's wrath...my husband uses the "what she don't know, won't hurt her" theory. Don't mess with Mama Bear!
May '11
Re: It's 2012. Do You Know Where Your Children Are? (Yes. They're Not Allowed Out.)
Once, when I was 5 or 6, I was mad at my Mom and told her I was going to run away. She took me into the kitchen made 2 PB&J sandwiches, got an apple and tied them into a dishtowel. We went outside and got a stick and tied the bundle to the stick just like on TV. She told me to be careful of the "bad people" and wished me well scooting me out the front door. I walked across the street to the playground and ate the sandwiches and apple. I went back to the house and told Mom I was going to Perry's to play. She said, "Be back at 5:00 for dinner."
Fifty years later I asked her if she remembered that incident. She said it was the hardest thing she had ever done.
Jul '10
Re: It's 2012. Do You Know Where Your Children Are? (Yes. They're Not Allowed Out.)
Pilli: Once, when I was 5 or 6, I was mad at my Mom and told her I was going to run away. She took me into the kitchen made 2 PB&J sandwiches, got an apple and tied them into a dishtowel. We went outside and got a stick and tied the bundle to the stick just like on TV. She told me to be careful of the "bad people" and wished me well scooting me out the front door. I walked across the street to the playground and ate the sandwiches and apple. I went back to the house and told Mom I was going to Perry's to play. She said, "Be back at 5:00 for dinner."
Fifty years later I asked her if she remembered that incident. She said it was the hardest thing she had ever done. · 0 minutes ago
That's the most awesomest story I've ever read on Ricochet.
Aug '10
Re: It's 2012. Do You Know Where Your Children Are? (Yes. They're Not Allowed Out.)
Certainly not after the treatment Newt Gingrich received for exercising his imagination! ;-)
Dec '11
Re: It's 2012. Do You Know Where Your Children Are? (Yes. They're Not Allowed Out.)
I enjoyed your list, but I can one-up all your deviant activities with:
• Hitchhiking around town with my BFF, until a car stopped to pick us up one day and the person behind the wheel was... my mother.
Dec '11
Re: It's 2012. Do You Know Where Your Children Are? (Yes. They're Not Allowed Out.)
I was listening to a lecture over at learnliberty.org and the speaker indicated something that I had been turning over in my mind. Our idea of childhood is purchased, hell most of our modern romanticized notions are purchased morality. When I say purchased, I mean as our absolute affluence has risen childhood gets longer. Today you can be a child all the way to about 26 if you try hard enough. We keep purchasing a more childlike and longer childhood, and its not compatible with our biology. There is a reason that nearly every single 'right of passage' is between 13-16.
Feb '11
Re: It's 2012. Do You Know Where Your Children Are? (Yes. They're Not Allowed Out.)
My children work hard for the family every day, with chores like cleaning bathrooms, folding laundry, stacking wood, and caring for our animals (4 cats, 6 chickens). The older ones can ride their bikes or take the bus into town. They walk around town with their own money in their pockets. They run errands and deal with shopkeepers.
Children who have no liberties are also usually not given any responsibilities. As a consequence, they do not know how to deal with normal duties of life.
Papa Toad and I don't think our children are particularly polite or brilliant in social settings, but the number of people in public who fall over themselves trying to tell us how amazing it is to be able to speak to young people in anything beyond monosyllabic grunts is disheartening...
Jun '10
Re: It's 2012. Do You Know Where Your Children Are? (Yes. They're Not Allowed Out.)
For a little over 2 years my family lived in Glendora, California in the early 60s. It was like stepping into a Norman Rockwell painting. The main street ended at the public library and the nearby movie theater where my brothers and I would spend hot, smoggy summer afternoons watching Disney movies, or Hercules or the 3 Stooges Meet Hercules...or the 3 Stooges Meet Hercules on Mars (my memory may be a tad faulty...need to verify that on IMDB). Like many of you, when I was seven and eight I would ride my bike from one end of town to the other or wander through neighborhoods without a care in the world. I think America has lost some of its innocence...but don't all of us seniors say that? (AARP won't stop sending me membership cards!!).
Maybe the 24-hour news cycle makes us all over protective of our kids...but then one sees, for example, the sickening news from Miramonte School (and here) in Los Angeles and one begins to think that America may indeed be lost. Apologies in advance for the graphic nature of the story.
Edited on February 7, 2012 at 4:50amSep '10
Re: It's 2012. Do You Know Where Your Children Are? (Yes. They're Not Allowed Out.)
Based purely on my own observations, I'd say that overprotectiveness usually accompanies liberal politics. I have friends--very, very liberal friends--who drive their kids everywhere and won't let them out of the house without a thorough slathering of sunscreen, protective gear, etc.
It's consistent: one of the fundamental notions of the Left is that people need to be protected from bad consequences, including the consequences of bad decisions, and that one of the best ways to do this is to prevent them from making decisions in the first place.
Sep '11
Re: It's 2012. Do You Know Where Your Children Are? (Yes. They're Not Allowed Out.)
There's a tremendous book called The Lost City by Alan Ehrenhalt that delves deeply into this question by looking at three Chicago-area communities and how they were transformed in the latter half of the 20th century. Highly recommended.
Dec '11
Re: It's 2012. Do You Know Where Your Children Are? (Yes. They're Not Allowed Out.)
In the early 60s my brother and I had a styrofoam sailboat that we would sail in Biscayne Bay in Miami. Never figured out how to tack, so we always went downwind and the called Mom for a lift when we made landfall.
My Dad had brought two WWII era rifles back from Japan (he was part of the occupation force), removed the bolts and let us play with them. We had a large park across the street from our house. I imagine more than a few people were startled with these kids crawling in the bushes with rifles.
There were some small dredge islands about a quarter mile from shore that we used to swim to and treat as our Robinson Crusoe haunts.
We rode bikes 5 miles to school. No helmets.
If we had had radio collars on like they tag wildlife these days, our range extended out for several miles during long summer days.
Apr '11
Re: It's 2012. Do You Know Where Your Children Are? (Yes. They're Not Allowed Out.)
The issue isn't crime stats; it's the lack of commuity. Prior generations could count on neighbors and even strangers to keep on eye on wondering kids. Even in urban areas there were neighborhoods where most of the people knew each other.
We're much more mobil and isolated today. We're less familiar with our neighbors because that's actually the way most people like it.
In America, more and more we are individuals looking out for ourselves and our own, and we are wards of the state. That inbetween area that community, church, and civic organizations used to occupy is a shell of its former self.
Jul '10
Re: It's 2012. Do You Know Where Your Children Are? (Yes. They're Not Allowed Out.)
Two blocks from our street was a busy ‘main street’ where there were shops, which we weren’t allowed to cross until we were 6. After that we were instructed to walk another block to the light and cross there. But we didn’t. At that corner was the drugstore, then a greengrocer, a stationery store, a meat market, etc., and at the end a barber shop. Needless to say we would always cross at the end by the barber shop, but not before John, who had the chair by the window and always kept a lookout, would put his scissors down and rush out, calling to us to wait. He’d cross over and lead us safely across the street, always with the same admonition: “Now you know your mothers have told you to cross at the light.”
In those days, adults looked after kids, and other mothers would reprimand the naughty ones with those kids knowing that a phone call to their parents would follow. Try that today and the reprimanding parent might likely find themselves in court – or be subject to a visit from child protective services. (BTW, John never told on us.)
May '10
Re: It's 2012. Do You Know Where Your Children Are? (Yes. They're Not Allowed Out.)
I love reading all of these stories of fun, carefree childhoods. I always thought my childhood was more idyllic because I lived outside the U.S. But apparently, the 70's were just that kind of time.
Where I grew up it was a small town where everyone knew the missionary's kid. So, I could never get into too much trouble. I did manage to get into a firecracker war, though. You could buy a long string of fireworks for pennies and a few single cigarettes. We'd use the cigarettes to light the firecrackers because they'd stay lit longer and were easier to use in a rush. Somehow, I got roped into a dispute and ended up taking sides. We met at the ruined Roman Catholic church (next door to the rebuilt one), established our territory and then lobbed our crackers. It was so much FUN! Even when a couple of firecrackers blew up in my hand and burned my fingers, I didn't stop until we'd vanquished our enemy.
Then there were the days we'd pack a lunch, hike outside of town about 2 miles and swim in the hot springs. (continued)
Edited on February 7, 2012 at 6:20amJul '10
Re: It's 2012. Do You Know Where Your Children Are? (Yes. They're Not Allowed Out.)
Yep. In the summer we were gone until sundown on bikes (sans helmets*) with baseball mitts and bats or tennis racquets. (If the tennis courts – clay – were locked, we’d just climb the very high chain link fence to get in.) In winter it was sleds to ride down a very steep street or a wicked trail through the woods. We lived near a 600-acre park (lots of woods, 2 softball fields, a rugby/soccer field, playgrounds) and there were always rumors of a few “old men in trench coats,” but being so active outdoors, we knew we could outrun them. We never saw them, though. The thing is, while we might go to the softball fields, the playgrounds, or the tennis courts by ourselves to meet up with our friends, we never went into the woods alone. And we were instructed at a young age about men in cars with candy.
*These days you see tykes on trikes wearing helmets – riding in their own driveways. Pity.
May '10
Re: It's 2012. Do You Know Where Your Children Are? (Yes. They're Not Allowed Out.)
We also would spend the day, a few of us kids the same age, at the lake swimming all day long until the afternoon chop came up. There were a lot of pumice rocks strewn all over the beach since this was volcano land. We'd make "jewelry" with the pumice stones and try to sell them to our parents or susceptible gringo tourists.
My favorite memory of one of our adventures was taking the bus up to the county seat and walking the 4 miles down to our town. There were 2 waterfalls on the way, for which we'd packed our suits. While playing in the waterfalls, we discovered a lot of clay in the area, and took some home to make stuff. I was 8 at the time.
Jun '10
Re: It's 2012. Do You Know Where Your Children Are? (Yes. They're Not Allowed Out.)
"I saw myself as a kid again, in Kansas, going to school, swimming at the swimming hole, and fishing, frying up a mess o' Catfish, going down to the general store, getting a piece of gingham for Emmy-Lou."
- Woody Allen...for the whole story in context go here.
Apr '11
Re: It's 2012. Do You Know Where Your Children Are? (Yes. They're Not Allowed Out.)
~Paules
I grew up in Rockville.
Far out!
EThompson (#67) Speaking of hitchhiking. I went to high school near the Capitol in Wash., DC (class of '64). As 9th and 10th graders, we would hitchhike home up N. Capitol St. It probably helped that we wore jacket and tie, so people knew who we were. Even women would give us rides.