I
grew up in the late 1950s and early 1960s in a suburb of New Orleans. I was one
of tens of millions of Baby Boomers, that demographic cohort that overwhelmed
hospitals, elementary and high schools, and eventually universities. There wasn’t
much we didn’t overwhelm, simply by the sheer force of numbers. And we’ll soon
be overwhelming retirement homes, funeral homes and cemeteries.
Life
seemed simpler and it seemed safer. The vast majority of our mothers worked at
home, while our fathers worked elsewhere. I was six when my mother let me ride
my bike by myself a little over a mile to the dime store. We had no organized
sport leagues staffed by fanatical parents; we organized our own open field
baseball games and street football games. A nearby woods afforded ample
opportunities for exploration, games, and adventure (real and created).
Life
seemed slower then because life was slower then. We had television, but it was
mostly on for an hour after school (local kids show followed by the Mickey
Mouse Club)a few favorite programs on Friday night and Saturday cartoons. And
we preferred the big screen to the small screen – 25 cents for a matinee. We’d
even take the bus to a theater that was too far to walk – by ourselves; by
eight years old I had already learned the bus system.
And
there were books, board games, and playacting. We’d dream up stories to act,
often using the woods for the setting. War games, usually, or cowboys and Indians.
By
the time I was married with my own children, life had changed. My kids were
part of the Baby Boomlet – the children of the Boomers. Between my childhood
and theirs, sports leagues had developed – basketball, baseball, fall baseball,
and soccer (football was left to the high schools). And church activities.
Busy-ness was taking hold. The advent of the internet and electronic games
adding to the speeding up.
Today,
I read what parents do, how organized and scheduled everything is for children
(not to mention their parents), and I worry for my grandchildren and their
generation.
Our
children need to be allowed to be children. If Harvard requires your child find
a cure for cancer as an admission requirement, then there are worse things than
not getting into Harvard (and likely less of a student load debt). Not every
child needs to be in three baseball leagues, dance ensembles, and 14
after-school activities. No one needs to create a child’s imagination for him
or her; they’re usually inventive enough to figure out things for themselves.
Over
at The High Calling today, Laura
Boggess is starting a book discussion on Not
So Fast: Slow-Down Solutions for Frenzied Families, by Ann Kroeker. It
couldn’t be more timely. I’ve read the first four chapters, and I think Ann has
something important to say to all of us – with practical ways to start removing
some of the busy-ness from our lives.
All
of us – parents, children, grandparents – need to make a conscious decision to
live our lives differently, more slowly, with more forethought and less
anxiety, even if it means we don’t fare so well in the competition we maintain
with everyone else.
Our
children – and grandchildren – will be the beneficiaries.
Please
visit the discussion at The HighCalling. It’s important.
Photograph: Author Ann Kroeker overlooking the Frio River at Laity Lodge near Kerrville, Texas, by Jennifer Dukes-Lee. Laity Lodge is becoming known as Rivendell on the Frio.
6 comments:
Thanks for weighing in, Glynn. The way things used to be--when I was growing up too--encouraged us to interact, to relate, to get to know each other on deeper levels. And while there are so many wonderful things about technology and the way the world is today, I think this is what we need to be deliberate about: relationship. With each other, with God. Ann really hammers that home in these first few chapters.
I love this window into the evolution of society's speed as seen through your own eyes and as lived through your own childhood-to-parenthood.
This is a powerful call to evaluate our pace of life, Glynn. Thank you for your bold words.
.
set up a kidnapping
of your own child's
childhood
no more
creative play
in the wildwood
In our family, we try to get the kids to choose just one thing outside of church and school.
For my daughter, that is violin. For my son, that is Lego Robotics. (My daughter helps with robotics too.)
Even those two things, plus the occasional community theater feel like way more than we can handle.
"Rivendell on the Frio."
Glynn, I won't be able to join the reading this time, but I can add an 'amen!" I too worry about my grandchildren and the students I teach every day...... 25 years ago David Elkind, educator was saying the same thing. He wrote a book 'The Hurried Child' and the hurriedness has only grown exponentially.
Ann's book is indeed timely.
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