Читать книгу Free-Range Kids - Lenore Skenazy - Страница 9

“You can't be too safe!”

That's pretty much the mantra for childrearing these days. A mantra that has brought us everything from baby knee pads (to protect kids from that daredevil activity called “crawling”) to trunk-or-treat (the parking lot alternative to trick or treating) to the Cub Scout troop leader who demonstrated how to whittle with a knife, then handed each boy a stick—and a potato peeler.

That's the motto of today's Scouts, I guess: Be prepared … for adults who have lost their minds. Isn't the entire point of joining Scouts to get a knife? Trying to whittle with a potato peeler is like trying to shave with a spatula. But, “You can't be too safe!”

Or can you?

The whole idea behind Free-Range Kids is that we all want the very best for our kids. We want them to be safe, happy, and eager to take on the world. But lately, how we think we should go about this has changed. For instance, I read a parenting magazine article that gave this tip: Whenever you're taking your toddler to someone else's house, always carry a couple of shoelaces with you. Why? (One friend ventured, “So you can hang yourself?” No!)

The answer is—truly—so you can TIE SHUT THE PERSON'S CABINETS. Yes, the folks at the magazine actually expect you to go around babyproofing the world.

That's not too much to ask, is it?

Free-Range Kids believes the opposite: The best way to keep your kids safe is to worldproof your baby. Or at least, worldproof your growing children. That way, they're safe even when we're not right there next to them, going crazy trying to turn the world into one giant womb.

Anyway, my point is that society has spent the last generation or two trying to convince parents that our job is to make life into one big smoothie for our kids: no lumps, no bumps, just sweet perfection (and some hidden spinach). The goal is to raise kids who go from colic to college without ever experiencing any frustration at all. Smoothie-mode begins at birth and explains the rash (so to speak) of baby wipe warmers. You've seen them, right? They do exist, dispensing wipes as warm as the washcloths in a Japanese restaurant. The question is: Do we really WANT to raise kids so addicted to ease that they are traumatized by a room-temperature wipe? Isn't that a little extreme in the “My baby should never suffer!” department? Don't we all want kids who can roll with the punches, or at least some less-than-five-star diaper changes?

Of course we do!

The funny thing is that while none of us want to see our kids suffer, seeing them rise to a challenge is one of parenting's greatest highs—and childhood's too. Like, we all want them to learn how to ride a bike, right? It's a thrill when they do! Cell phones wait their whole lives to record that moment (and then the battery dies). But to get to that point we have to let go of the handlebars and watch our sweethearts take a few spills. (Or we have to make our partner do this while we stay inside, eating cookies and reading books on good parenting. But still: someone has to let go of that bike.) We do our kids no favor if we hold the handlebars forever.

I'm pretty sure you can see the metaphor here: Helping kids? Good. Doing everything for kids, whether they be our students or our progeny? Bad. It's even a bad idea in terms of safety! Because, strangely enough: kids who aren't allowed a little freedom turn out to be less safe.

That's not just Free-Range me that says this. It's also the safety experts who have found that the confident kids—the ones who have been allowed out into the world, where they develop street smarts and an air of “I can take care of myself!”—are the safest.

Luckily, this is a book all about how to give kids a little more of that superpower, independence. And by the way, educators: independent kids are readier to think, learn, and do.

Now you'd assume that this would be a rather non-controversial idea. You don't see a lot of parenting books titled, Home Till They're 30! or The Gloomiest Kid on the Block. And yet, it is not always so easy to give our kids new freedoms, even when we think they're ready for them, because sometimes society disapproves. Sometimes the person who shares your shower disapproves. Sometimes the lady next to you on the Today Show disapproves and you get the feeling the host maybe does, too. At least, that's what happened to me.

See, a little more than a decade ago, I let my nine-year-old son Izzy ride the subway here in New York, where we live, alone. I didn't do it because I was brave or reckless or angling for a book contract. (But look!) I did it because I know my son the way you know your kids. He'd been asking me and my husband to take him someplace new and let him find his own way home by subway. After we talked about it, we decided he seemed ready. So we gave the boy a map, a MetroCard, some money, and let him go. Then, being a newspaper columnist, I wrote a piece about it for The New York Sun. Big deal, right?

Well, that night, someone from the Today Show called me at home. Did I really let my son take the subway by himself, she asked?

Yes.

Just abandoned him in the middle of the city and told him to find his way home?

Well, abandoned is kind of a strong word but … yes, I did leave him at Bloomingdale's.

In this day and age?

No, in Ladies’ Handbags.

Oh, she loved that. Would I be willing to come on the air and talk about it?

Sure, why not?

I had no idea what was about to hit me.

A day later, there across from me sat host Ann Curry looking outrageously pretty—and slightly alarmed—because her next guest just might be criminally insane. By way of introduction she turned to the camera and asked, “Is she an enlightened mom or a really bad one?”

The shot widened to reveal me and Izzy. And then some other lady perched next to us on that famous couch who, I soon learned, was there to TEACH US A LESSON.

I quickly told the story about Izzy's ride. How this was something he'd been asking my husband and me to let him do, and how I think it makes sense to listen to your kids when they're ready for a new responsibility.

I know riding the subway solo might sound like a bigger responsibility than, say, feeding Goldie the goldfish, but here in New York, families are on the subway all the time. It's extremely, even statistically safe. Whatever subterranean terror you see Will Smith battling in the movies goes home when the filming stops (probably to New Jersey). Our city's murder rate is lower than it was in the 1960s and, by the way, it's probably down where you live, too. Nationally, the violent crime rate has plummeted by more than 70% since it peaked in the early 1990s, so crime-wise our kids are actually SAFER than we were, growing up. (Yes. Safer. And not just because all the kids are locked up inside, either. ALL crime is down—ignoring the Covid blip—even against adults.)

So while I did feel a little twinge letting Izzy go, it was that same twinge you feel when you leave your child in kindergarten that first day. You want it to be a great experience. And in this case, it was.

About one hour, one subway, and one bus ride after we parted, Izzy was back at home, proud as a peacock (who takes public transportation). I only wrote about his little adventure because when I told the other fourth-grade moms about it, they said they were going to wait till their kids were a little older—thirty-eight, thirty-nine, ….

So, back to The Today Show. After Izzy tells Ann how easy the whole thing was, Ann smiles and turns to the other lady who is a “Parenting Expert”—a term I have grown to loathe because this breed seems to exist only to tell us parents what we are doing wrong.

The expert is not smiling. She looks like I just asked her to smell my socks. She is appalled by what I did and says I could have given my son the exact same experience of independence in a much “safer” way—if only I had followed him, or insisted he ride with a group of friends.

“Well, how is that the ‘exact same experience’ if it's different?” I demanded. “Besides, he was safe! That's why I let him go, you fear-mongering hypocrite, preaching independence while warning against it! And why do TV shows automatically put you guys on, anyway? Isn't it because of professional second-guessers like you that us parents have stopped trusting our guts?”

Well, I didn't get all of that out, exactly. I did get out a very cogent, “Gee, um … ” but anyway, it didn't even matter, because as soon as we left the set, the phone rang. It was MSNBC. Could I be there in an hour? Yep. Then came Fox News. Could I come that afternoon? And MSNBC again. If I came today would I promise to come on again over the weekend? And suddenly, weirdly, I found myself at that place you always hear about: The center of a media storm. It was kind of fun but kind of terrifying, too, because everyone was weighing in on my parenting skills. Reporters queried from China, Israel, Australia, Malta. (Malta! An island! Who's stalking the kids there? Captain Hook?) TV stations across Canada threw together specials. Radio shows across America ate it up, as did parenting groups and PTAs. Newspapers, blogs, magazines from The Economist to Funny Times—even the BBC had me on.

The media dubbed me “America's Worst Mom.” (Go ahead—Google it.) But that's not what I am.

I really think I'm someone like you: a parent who is afraid of some things (bears, cars) and less afraid of others (subways, strangers). But mostly I'm afraid that I, too, have been swept up in the impossible obsession of our era: total safety and control of our children every second of every day. The idea that we should provide it, and actually could provide it. It's as if we don't believe in fate anymore, or good luck or bad luck. No, it's all up to us.

Simply by questioning the belief that our kids are in constant danger from germs, jerks, sports, injuries, sports-injuries, stress, sunburn, salmonella, skinned shins, flashers, frustration, failure, baby snatchers, bugs, bullies, men, and the perils of a non-organic grape, I became, to my shock, the face of a new movement: the one dedicated to fighting the other big movement of our time, helicopter parenting.

Which is not to say I haven't done a lot of that myself! My God—I'm part helicopter on my mom's side. I've hired tutors for my kids and, this being New York City, shrinks, too. I brought in a football coach to run a simple birthday party, and what really fun, carefree door prize did I give out? Protective mouth guards. Woo-hoo! Plus I made my kids spend one summer doing math sheets every day after camp, and another summer writing an essay a day. That's when they were eight and ten. People think I am anti-helicopter parenting. Nope. I am anti- a culture that is creating helicopter parents.

So the weekend after The Today Show interview, I launched the Free-Range Kids blog to trial-balloon the notion that maybe it's time to start giving our children back some independence. Hundreds, then thousands, then eventually hundreds of thousands of people started reading it, which led to this book, and that's how the Free-Range Kids movement took hold. Parents were thrilled to hear they can take a step back, relax, and EVERYONE wins, especially the kids. After we train our young wards to wash their hands, look both ways, and never go off with strangers—the age-old lessons our parents taught us—we can actually give them some of the same freedom we had. Go forth and frolic, kids. Ride your bike! And take out the garbage, too.

These are not radical acts. Chores, games, and getting the heck out of the house were all a hallowed part of childhood until just recently, and together they help develop the very traits we want to see in our kids: confidence, responsibility, good cheer.

In fact, all the latest research shows that play itself turns out to be the most important development booster of all. If it were a class, there would be waiting lists to get in. When kids are allowed the time and space to do something just because it interests them—even if it does not interest US—they end up developing the very initiative and self-esteem we've been trying to Botox into them with praise for every doodle and trophies for 22nd place. (If your kids don't have any of these yet, they will.)

Free-Range Kids reminds parents of what they already know in their heart of hearts. That when a girl makes her own tree house out of two old planks she's more ecstatic than she'd be with a four-bedroom Colonial (especially if she had to clean it). That the boy who loses for three seasons at hockey and then wins in Season Four has learned more—and matured more—than any kid who was told, “We're all winners!” every single time. And that when any of our kids get lost and scared but then scrappily find their way back, they come home three inches taller. And really hungry.

Kids are desperate to master the world, and we have always expected them to do just that. Until a generation or two ago (and to this day in less-wealthy countries), children had to pull their own weight as soon as they could. They planted seeds, fetched water. During the Civil War, they cut off their hair to make money for Marmee. (Or at least Jo did in Little Women and that's good enough for me.)

But today, in our understandable desire to ease their way and keep them safe, we've been pushed to do everything FOR our kids. Consider the fact that in some school districts, the Parent Teacher Associations have come up with a clever new way to raise money. They auction off the drop-off space directly in front of the school entrance. The sweet spot where kids have to walk the shortest distance between car and class.

Now consider the fact that if this spot were in front of a dentist's office, or mall, it would be labeled, “HANDICAPPED PARKING.”

In other words, for fear of kidnapping, cold, or just asking too much of their kids, loving parents are vying for the chance to TREAT THEIR CHILDREN LIKE INVALIDS.

What we forget is that all these “safety” choices are not without dangers of their own. I don't like to play the fear card, so let me just list them really quickly: depressiondiabetesobesityaxietyrickets. We're talking problems that can crop up when kids don't get any time to run around, explore, or just do something for fun without us turning it into an adult-led Enriching Activity.

That's not really how we want to raise our kids, is it? It's time to believe in them again!

So in this book you'll find a skeptical look at the hovering advice we've been given, an equally skeptical look at the devices designed to help us do that hovering, and all sorts of support and facts and (God willing) fun boiled down into The Ten Free-Range Commandments.

Well, at least that was the idea. But then it turned out there were a whole bunch of other issues I wanted to get to, from how to ignore media hysteria to how to stop worrying about every little parenting decision, to how to get a kid to put down the device more powerful than the giant computers that put a man on the moon (or did they???) and go have fun with a stick. Pretty soon, there were Eighteen Commandments. Let's just say Moses had a tougher editor.

How do kids grow when we can loosen our grip and Free-Range? Let me tell you two stories.

My friends’ daughter Carrie is a special needs kid. She goes to a special school, special camp, special therapists. But one day, out of the blue, she asked her mother if she could go get a slice of pizza on her own, not far from their apartment in Manhattan.

Her shocked mother said, “Uh … OK, but why not get the pizza and bring it home to eat?” “No!” said Carrie, sixteen at the time. “Other people eat at the pizza place, and I want to, too!”

So, bless her, my friend said OK, and Carrie went off by herself a block or two away. When she returned, her mother was waiting for her outside, but couldn't even see her coming. She'd been so worried, she'd run out of the house forgetting her glasses. Then Carrie zoomed into view, glowing, grinning, and gave her mom a hug.

“What made you want to do this?” her mother asked.

Carrie had seen her friend Izzy on TV, talking about his subway ride.

“I thought if he could do it, I could do it too.” Darn tootin’.

Story 2: More recently I visited an elementary school where all the kids had been doing The Let Grow Project, a homework assignment where they have to go home and do something new, on their own, without a parent. Usually the kids bike, bake, run an errand … things most of us did without a second thought.

The delighted principal told me she could see The Project's impact almost immediately. For instance, she said, the kids weren't sticking out their feet as much.

I had no idea what she was talking about. “You mean, they're not tripping each other anymore?”

No, she said. “They're not sticking their feet out for their teacher to tie their shoes.”

Go Free-Range and I can't promise immediate happiness, responsibility, pizza-buying, or shoe-tying. But I can say that the fears so rampant in our society aren't in line with reality anymore, and when we start to realize that, our kids reap the benefit. Free-Range is a way to fight the real-world consequences of imaginary or insanely inflated dangers. Do that and we can give our kids a different kind of childhood.

They say the first step toward change is realizing that you really want to change, at least a little bit, so kudos to you for picking up this book. A bigger kudos to you for reading it. (Picking up a book only gets you so far.) All children deserve parents who love them, teach them, trust them, and then … let go of the handlebars.