Brave New World

One of the wonderful things about school is that children are exposed to new ideas and people and have the opportunity to explore things they might not otherwise have the chance to at home. Since the beginning of the school year Sidney has been coming home talking about the new friends he is making, what he is learning and the fun he is having in the process. It is topics like this that make me feel good as a parent. On the flip side your child may be coming home talking about subjects that in one way or another challenge you as a parent. These subject aren't necessarily topics you don't want to discuss with your child; rather they are ones that you were hoping you wouldn't have to discuss for a while. This may be due in part to your thinking your child isn't ready to discuss them or, as is my case, I haven't figured out how to discuss them myself with my child. And as we have entered into the wide world of first grade, these conversations are happening with increasing frequency.

First there was the conversation about cancer and dying. Our family has been fortunate to have escape ravages of both during Sidney's short life so quite simply the topics have never come up. But as Sidney's school was preparing for their annual Terry Fox Run to benefit Canadian cancer research, he became a student on the subject and began asking lots of questions. What is cancer? What is dying? What happens when you die? I was pushed completely out of my comfort zone as I struggled to answer these questions in an age appropriate manner but coupled with what he was learning in school, I think I did alright. And it was just preparation for the conversation that came next: lock down drills.

Yes, lock down drills. Those unfortunately necessary yet complete scary practices that have been as commonplace as fire drills in schools across the western world. They didn't exist when I was in school. I remember being scared out of my wits the first time my class had a fire drill when I was in first grade. I had no idea what to do when the loud alarm sounded but I quickly learned what I was supposed to do. At the time we were living in a rural community in northern Vermont and the first grade (but not the second and third) was attached to the larger high school. Our biggest threat was a spate of bomb threats called in over the course of several months by teenage pranksters wanting to get out of taking their exams. When the alarm sounded we would file out of the school only to be allowed to return soon after. But times have changed since the 1970s..........

Lockdown drills have replaced the fire drills of my childhood. In this age of what feels like weekly school shootings, knowing how to react during an emergency can mean the difference between surviving and not. Thus the reason we have five year olds quietly cramming themselves into closets and bathroom stalls and sitting patiently until the all clear alarm sounds. They emerge safe if not a bit shaken but then the real questions arise.

Sidney's little school has already rehearsed two lock down drills during the first two months of the school year. Parents were notified about the impending drills prior to their taking place. And prior to each drill the teachers worked with the students so that they know what is expected of them during the drill. I wasn't in the classroom but I have full confidence that they presented the drills in an age appropriate and sensitive manner. But because of the sheer nature of the exercise how could a child (or adult for that matter) emerge from the practice not feeling a little shaken? I know that on the afternoon of each drill my little first first grader came home telling me what had happened before launching into a whole series of questions that yet again started a conversation I had naively hoped to delay having for some time.

He wants to know why bad men (as he calls them) would want to hurt the kids at this school. He wants to know if it is even safe to go to school and what he should do if they bad guys come when the kids are on the playground. He wants to know if they will also come after the parents and if the teachers are being brave and protecting their students whether they will be safe. These are all thoughts and questions that keep adults up at night and certainly aren't ones that a six year old should be pondering. But they are.

So how do you answer all of these questions yet explain to a child that while going to school is safe, someday the drill he is practicing might be for real? All I can do is explain that his teachers' jobs are to keep the students safe. No matter how scared he might be he needs to focus on what they tell him to do and to obey the rules. I assure him that that his parents will be safe. And for the moment, his going to school on a secure military base is probably the safest place for him to be. He understands that everyone must show a base issued identification card to enter the compound and early on when he questioned its purpose I assured him that it was to keep the bad people out. After the first drill these answers mollified him but after the second drill he asked what would happen if the bad guys skipped the main gate and dropped onto the base from the air like paratroopers (....he really is a military kid......). All I could do was reassure him that his teachers would take care of him and that everyone wants to make sure that all of the kids are safe.

And for the moment these answers have to be enough because they are all I have. The reality is that I can't promise him that his school will always be safe, that his teachers will always be able to protect him and that the bad guys won't descend upon his school. But I can promise him that the adults in his life will always do the best we can to keep him safe, that there are more good people than bad people in the world and that good does overcome bad any day of the week.

I believe that we can't live in fear of the what if and instead must focus on the here and now. And with that I'm going to give my little boy an extra hug and spend time focusing on the fun and (remaining) innocence of childhood.

Living In A Bubble Wrapped World

Is this your child?

Or is this?

Can you guess which one is mine?  Yes, dirt and all he is the second one. The picture was taken about three years ago. And little has changed since then; look around the playground and my son is the one covered in dirt and grime, waving a stick or two and wearing his skinned knees and elbows proudly as though they are a badge of honor. Sidney does have a sensitive side and loves to play kitchen but most of the time he is all boy. He is fiercely independent, can turn the most innocuous stick into a toy that will entertain him for hours, loves mud, crashing cars, and hunting for bad guys and thinks nothing of getting bumped and bruised. If he falls down he picks himself up and carries on.

A recent article in The Atlantic  by Hanna Rosin explored the somewhat recent turn towards the over protection of children and what this means for the way today's children play, grow, and interact. In today's litigious happy environment, the fear of being sued for millions of dollars has everyone from school districts to cities and private businesses essentially bubble wrapping their playgrounds lest an accident happen. This is especially true in America where today so many playgrounds are padded and colorful yet not all that exciting. Rosin contrasts this with a European playground that is much more organic in every sense of the world.  "The Land" in Northern Wales, which in many respects is a glorified junk yard filled with old tires, mattresses and other household debris which would horrify many parents while exciting adventurous kids. The land has set operating hours and is supervised by "play attendants" who watch but generally keep their distance from the children at play. Playground developers say the play space teaches the ideas of cause and effect and natural consequences while creating independent children rather than children who are protected and sheltered from anything and everything that could be deemed dangerous. By far my favorite quote from the article which I believes sums up the issue is "If a 10-year-old lit a fine at an American playground, someone would call the police and the kid would be taken for counseling. At the Land, spontaneous fires are a frequent occurrence." I can just see this stated scenario being played out on any American playground and couldn't agree more.

I'll admit, arriving in Belgium, and back on a military base and seeing rubber padded playgrounds and safe plastic structures was a bit refreshing after spending time in Albania where such playgrounds were few and far between. The norm there was old metal, circa 1970 playground equipment set up over hard concrete pads. If kids fell or hurt themselves, well that was their fault. There was no thought to sue the playground owners since it was believed that kids and their parents shouldered the individual responsibility for staying safe. A large part of me really agrees with this philosophy. Yes I saw some horrifying playgrounds and there were a few where I played the "bad cop" and kept my son off of them. Others were alright by my standards but wouldn't pass muster in the U.S. In those play areas I watched Sidney closely but let him do his thing. He would be cautious at first while learning what he could and couldn't do safely. Did he have accidents? Sure. There was the occasional bit of blood and a lot of tears but he always picked himself up and returned to playing no worse for the wear. When we first arrived here Sidney loved the brightly colored playground at the American school but he now prefers the less sophisticated but more rough and tough one across the street. After all this playground not only has a splinter inducing climbing structure but a zip line as well. What American playground geared towards elementary school aged children has that?

Back to the picture of Sidney playing in the pile of dirt. It was actually construction debris and who knows what was in the soil but he had fun. We cleaned up afterwards with lots of soap and water and there were no ill side effects. All that came out of it was Sidney's request to do it again. And he did, in various forms and incarnations throughout our time in Albania. He thought nothing about clambering over piles of rocks and dilapidated ruins or scrambling along castle walls without railings. He learned to be careful and would caution others to be as well. As I watch him on the playgrounds here I notice that while many of his peers cry when they fall he doesn't. (Yes, he cries at other times but that is a totally different story). He picks himself up and carries on later telling me that only babies cry. Yes, that's my big boy. My big boy who has grown up playing in dirt piles and unpadded playgrounds and is doing just fine. I can only hope he continues to carry his innate sense of curiosity, ingrained sense of caution in new situations and willingness to explore. There hasn't been and won't be any bubble wrap in this little guy's future.

Where Are Our Babies Safe?

Sidney on his first day of day care - April 2010

As a parent my first and foremost concern is keeping my son safe.  I'm not talking about bubble wrapping him to prevent every bump and scrape (although at times this is a tempting option); I know as a little boy he will have his share of scraped knees and bumps on the head.  As sad as it makes me I know that at times he will have his feeling hurt and I will have to explain why things are not always "fair". This I can deal with.  It is Sidney's physical and emotional safety in an increasingly dangerous and unpredictable world that really frightens me.  As last week's horrific tragedy in Newtown, Connecticut illustrates, no place is truly immune to violence.  If our children can't be safe in their own schools, surrounded by caring and nurturing  professionals, where are they protected?  In the midst of an already disheartening week I was further disturbed by an article in today's Washington Post discussing child abuse claims at the Joint Base Myer-Henderson Child Development Center (CDC).  For those people who are unfamiliar with military terminology, CDCs are the military provided day care centers that provide safe and affordable child care options to thousands of active duty military personnel around the world.  Or so I always thought it was a safe option.  The report of two caregivers physically assaulting two-year old children under their care and additional staff with backgrounds that should have precluded them from employment around any children is another blow to parents everywhere.  If the military, a place where rules, law, and order are the basic tenants, cannot properly protect our children, I have to wonder whether anyone can.

Sidney spent fifteen months in the CDC at Bolling Air Force Base while we were stationed in Washington preparing for our overseas move.  I will never forget the fear I had as I left my tiny son at the day care facility for the first time.  He just seemed so small and helpless and I wondered whether he would be all right.  (The better question would have been whether I would be all right.  Mostly because Glenn was with me and wouldn't allow me to, I resisted calling the center to check on Sidney during that first day).  The caring staff reassured me that he would be OK and I left thinking that after all this was a military facility so if anyplace was safe, this had to be the place.  I was even more reassured when I was presented with his "schedule" from day one.  In true military precision, even the babies day's were planned out with nap times, meal times, reading, and outdoor activities.  Age appropriate music, arts, and sports activities were incorporated into every day.  Over the next year Sidney was more than OK.  He flourished under the watchful eyes of Ms. Renata and Ms. Amber.  Due to his prematurity he went from being delayed to developmentally caught up in record time.  At eight months he was using ASL to indicate more, please, and thank you.  Peer pressure had him walking at 13 months (which adjusted for his age was actually ten months).  Finger painting and the water table quickly became favorite activities which I welcomed since it saved us from having to deal with the mess at home.  The entire experience was good for me as well.  The experienced teachers taught me a lot about parenting, assured me that he was ready to move onto the next level when I questioned his ability (after all he was still so small), and taught me to let go of the smaller things.  Every bump and bruise that Sidney inevitably received during the day was documented and when he received not one but two bites from a fellow classmate (separate kids on separate days so I guess Sidney really is sweet), we were quickly notified and the issue was addressed.  Yes, I felt like this was a safe environment.   Removing Sidney from the CDC, his little friends, and his teachers was a bittersweet moment.  After that first week I neither regretted nor questioned our decision to place Sidney at the day care center.  Until now.

As parents of infants we child proof our homes, buy the safest car seats on the market, and make sure our kids only eat healthy foods.  Toys are age appropriate, we instruct our kids not to talk to strangers, and do our best to prepare them for the inevitable literal and physical bumps and bruises that lie ahead in life.  But I wonder whether this is really enough.  In the past week I've heard conversations ranging from the need to arm the teachers in our schools and to exclusively home schooling children, to complete assault weapon bans to requiring all gun owners to carry insurance the same way automobile drivers do.  Are these the solutions? Will these actions make our world safer or just make us all paranoid?  How do we move forward as parents if we have to question the safety of our children at every turn?  And what does it say about our society that we have been forced to do this?

Maybe bubble wrap isn't a bad idea after all............................



Sidney on his last day of day care- June 2011