Innocence

BILL MOYERS: Have you lost your innocence?
JON STEWART: What? Well, it was in 1981, it was at a frat party. Oh, I'm sorry. You know, I think this is gonna sound incredibly pat, but I think you lose your innocence when you have kids, because the world suddenly becomes a much more dangerous place. And you become much more — there are two things that happen. You recognize how fragile individuals are, and you recognize the strength of the general overall group, but you don't care anymore. You're just fighting for the one thing. See and then, you also recognize that everybody, then, is also somebody's child. It's I'm yeah, I mean it's-- tumultuous.

For the full transcript or video of the initial (brilliant!) episode of Bill Moyers Journal, go here.

Harsh Realities

I've written many times how utterly admirable I consider the innocence, humor and honesty of children. I've related my moments of concern, a decade early, for when my boys become teens, etc.

Yesterday, I was musing over how harsh the world is...and how hard it would be to cope with a sudden exposure to all this harshness, all at once. Fortunately (I guess) bliss fades slowly as children become acclimated to reality. I am of the camp that wishes a)there was no reality, b)that acclimation might come as slowly as possible and c)I did not have to be the lead teacher in all-things-harsh-and-real.

Not so long ago, my son learned that adults fall down (when I tripped on a hike with him). He has since learned that we don't always keep our word (I fell asleep once instead of telling him his bedtime story, as promised). He is now learning the value(?) of money, being rewarded by people with change for various little tasks. All-too-soon, he will be exposed to the pains of love.

This all came to me when sitting in the bathroom. I discovered we had no conventional paper product to complete the mission...so I used baby wipes. Ahhhhhhhhhh. Lanolin enriched, smooth, cool baby wipes! That's when I was moved to epiphany: my boys have never felt the roughness of toilet paper, let alone the sandpaper found in public bathrooms or the strange waxpaper squares we had in school bathrooms...so very much harshness ahead.

I have a friend who suffered an aneurysm. She had to learn everything again, from walking and talking to her family and friends. She expressed to me that re-learning the hard, cruel nature of the world was the worst of her recovery.

At times when I've been impatient with my slow learning I long for some microchip implant or epiphany that will lead me to complete enlightenment. I wish I were, you know, smart! Reflecting on my friend's recovery and my boys' gradual exposure...I guess it's probably for the best that our brains are on simmer rather than microwave-enlightenment. I guess I'll just slow cook and bask in it all, day by day...and hopefully I'll be there (and be supportive) when my kids are exposed to some of the more harsh realities they'll face.

Inconvenient....Truth(?)

I finally had a chance to see Gore's Inconvenient Truth last week at the 89th Annual Phi Theta Kappa convention. Afterward, a forum (of sorts) aired ideas from the crowd. I was astonished that a bunch of honor students seemed to take Gore's word for everything. The few dissenting voices (including one moderator) were scorned. It could have been a byproduct of Gore's personal appearance and presentation earlier in the day (star power drives the masses). It could have been that the film has a very ominous tone and fair credibility.

Whatever the case, I became only more disconcerted. In my opinion, mass hysteria spawned from the film's screening did not make it beyond the doors of the room in which it was screened. Informal follow-up discussions were even more disconcerting. The students were proud of their recycling, highway clean up projects, and of Phi Theta Kappa's Operation Green--but they did not seem to get the point. Should the flaming prophets of global warming truly be correct, world culture would need much more reform than hybrid cars.

Those idealistic students are to be admired, for at least they are somewhat sensitized and they do at least make a token effort towards cleaning up the environment. Young people are not so jaded; they are more receptive to a message (if not downright gullible at times). Social change can and has at times been driven by youth.

However, to affect change, we must go deeper than band-aid service and pats on the back.

I probed for student opinion on the following, but my queries were considered comical:

1. So, what percentage of emissions are individually based versus industrially based?
2. Ice core records clock 1/2 million years of C02, what of the millions of years prior to that?
3. Would you give up cars, planes, plastic or air conditioning?
4. Other than sweat equity service projects, what can you do to address core problems?

No one seemed to notice the disparities...they claimed to be converts to Gore's environmental army, yet they were staying at a resort hotel that must have one hell of a power bill. They were all flying or driving to/from the conference; their very transport would be burning a great deal of fossil fuel. They spent over $1000 a head on their conference when the funds could have been directed toward affecting change through an advocacy group, etc...

I am not much different. I know and own my disparities, so do I think that makes me any better? Nah. At least it allows me to amuse myself. If I ever hop on the environmental bandwagon, I'll make sure it's not propelled by petroleum. I'll be wearing hand-crafted natural fibers, too. I'll be living in an intentional community that's self-sustaining. Above all, and with every issue, I'll be questioning 'authorities' like Al Gore.

If the Honorable (former) vice-president and one time 'next future president' had his heart in the right place, he would not charge for his presentation. True prophets are not interested in profits, after all. Instead, rumor has it he charged our academic honorary an honorarium of $175,000 for his 1/2 hr rap. In the film, he stated that he had given the speech worldwide well-over 1,000 times...what a lucrative sermon!

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: when money's involved, sniff for sincerity.

Thoughts from the Play Place

I'm not uncomfortable getting on the floor and crawling around with my boys, pretending to be a horse or dragon or 'wrestling king.' I've been on many-a kiddie ride and playground, too, and I can find fun in all of it (with or without the kids, I admit).

Enter the Play Place

From the road, the only intelligent vantage point, a play place seems something like an aquarium. It looks a bit like a new-in-the-box hamster maze, maybe. At this distance, it is only a quiet glass room tacked onto a tacky restaurant. This is the safe and sane distance I kept from such places for forty years. I did not have to go into one to know what was inside, for every time the door would open to the play place, I could hear the chaos, the screaming, the noise, noise, noise! I used to wonder what would lead a parent to subject their child to such a place.

I have since been able to confirm, on all counts, that these places are loud. On top of that, they may not be so sanitary, either. Once I saw a kid with a bulging diaper leave a brown streak down the slide. Another time, our son reported a pool of vomit. Sometimes kids crawl from the tunnels red-faced, panting, bleeding, crying...

...but most always, they emerge laughing. What I mistook for noise is the shrill laughter of crazed kids having a good time. While it might seem demeaning to put a child in this environment, I've witnessed some great play ground ethics and values in practice. Children are not generally just bumbling through the tunnels like rats; they are instead exploring, forming teams, playing hide and seek, racing...in short, they are playing.

Just yesterday (and not for the first time) I kicked off my shoes and followed my son inside. I studied his fascination with every turn and contour. I reveled with him over our ascension to the heights of the maze. I watched his face as he zipped down the slide on this belly, myself right behind him. Though he does not yet say much, he was loving every minute of it, and his laughter said it all.

I also was an intruder. Sure parents (myself included, once in a while) invade the play place to retrieve a child now and then. A rare few, like myself, might be found inside actually playing, but we are so rare that the kids don't quite know what to make of us.

Initially, I feel like Jane Goodall. I'm not sure if it's okay to make eye contact. I don't know their social norms. I cannot fit in, no matter how playful I become, for I am three times their size. Sometimes, due to my bulk, I cannot navigate the tubes as quickly as they do, and so I worry they will become annoyed with me. The squealing and laughter is amplified within the plastic tunnels, and it seems as if it is now an alarm sounding my presence. The constant thundering of knees and feet are now the beat of war drums in my ears.

Here's the interesting part: it's obvious that they are surprised to find me in their world. At first, they don't quite know what to say. It's only a moment, however, and then they are inviting me to chase them, asking me what's up ahead, wallowing past me...in general, accepting me. Like little ambassadors, they show me old french fries and holes in the walls of their den. They tell me all about their experiences at a variety of play places. A boy apologizes for not wearing socks.

Like all my encounters with children, I am again impressed by their civility and acceptance. I suppose someone on the street would see it as a herd of kids crawling over some hapless grownup trapped in the bowels of a hamster maze. From the street, or even in the restaurant proper, or even from the floor below--from any distance--one misses the whole thing. Being accepted and loved by them may involve a little slobber and sweat (and later, some aching muscles) but it is a whole and complete acceptance into their wacky world.

We could learn something from them.

We, the sissies...

Okay, time for my conservative side.

Recess without dodge-ball? Red Rover? 'Tis true, some schools have regulations on recess (something of a paradox, governed/regulated free time), prohibiting activities that might be hurtful to a child's self image. If they've not already, I'm sure picking-of-teams is on the list of activities to be cut soon.

Extra-curricular activities reflect this cultural sensitivity, this hyperactive Politically Correct movement...just last week on the news I heard of little league teams which have outlawed all 'chatter' (unless it's positive). No more, "we need a pitcher, not a belly itcher," or anything so damning to the soul and tender self image. This is the same school of thought which brings us a trophy for every kid on the team, regardless of their performance or standing. Everyone is treated the same; no one is a loser.

What forced my hand, however, was the story I heard about rope-less jump rope for Physical Education class. Some students who were challenged by coordination, others who were overly taxed by gravity due to unavoidable girth (read: fat), others who stood out as awkward--complained enough that now even jumping rope is a hurdle too high. Some schools are now having children pretend to jump rope in P.E. I suppose this saves money on gym equipment, too.

This, to say nothing of grade inflation, academic negligence/malpractice suits, etc.

Anyone who regularly reads Musement Park knows I value my children above all, and the last thing I would want (in fact, something that I dread so very much I am considering homeschooling) would be for them to be bruised, beaten, belittled or in any way emotionally injured. Guess what? That's life. That's what I've learned and how I've been working through all my reservations and uber-parenting problems. We have all grown through the school of hard knocks. I was last to be picked for years. I was the target in dodgeball. I was pummeled in Red Rover, field hockey, etc...but I survived.

Boy in a Bubble--the future?
There seems no end to the regulatory, prophylactic measures our current culture deploys. If my child is to ride the bus to school, he may have to stand in a little out-house-like shelter until the bus arrives. On the bus, he may be enveloped in a protective shell around his individual assigned seat--wouldn't want unfavorable audibles to damage his sensitivities (to say nothing of spitballs). At school, he would have to march lockstep with his peers, all in uniform (so no one would feel left out or weird). School work would be play, and everyone would get a gold star every day...no scratch that, for gold stars are emblems of war...better give everyone a Wal-mart smiley face sticker. School is no longer a place for sports, music, forensics, debate or anything else that would distinguish a person as good/poor. After school, it's the same safe, secure transport back to the safe and secure hermetically sealed home.

How does this make sense?
While on the one hand, good-intentioned people are going to extremes to protect the delicate ego of the child. On the other, industry and commerce are working overtime to lure egos of all ages by any medium and by every variation of content (objectionable? maybe a generation ago--get with the times, bub!). Standards of decency, even of respect, are being recoded for our culture. So, it seems quite the quandary: protect children from any harm, but allow them to become omnivorous consumers without conscience.

Going south...
I'm digressing, and thus, I'll shut 'er down. I am just so very amazed at how things change! I don't have any answers, but I am alarmed and aware. I don't want my kids to be hurt, but neither do I want my boys to be a bunch of sissies!