Beech Tree News Network

When I look back on the kind of mom I was when my kids were little, it’s a wonder they have enough where-with-all to walk across the street.  I was your basic crazy woman.  The reason I was your basic crazy woman was because I was always afraid someone was going to hurt my children.  Some of my fear sprung from being hurt myself as a child, some of it sprung from having no relatives nearby to help care for them, and some of it sprung from media coverage of children who had been abducted and molested or murdered or both.  If we weren’t home on this farm, I was watching my kids like a hawk, ready to ward off any danger that might come from any direction.
    Recently, there has been a push toward giving children more independence in public places.  There is even a website called Free-Range Kids, started by Lenore Skenazy, which says, “…in these overprotective times, kids don’t learn independence as parents are bombarded with media stories of child abductions” (Patch.com, Bethesda email newsletter).
 A couple of parents in Maryland have found themselves in hot water because they let their children, ages 10 and 6, walk home from the park by themselves.  These parents believe, like Skenazy does, that children need some independence in order to grow into adults who can make decisions for themselves.  The state of Maryland disagrees. They charged the parents with child neglect.  When interviewed about the charges, the mom said, “I grew up in New York City in the 70s and nobody hesitated to let their kids walk around.  The only thing that’s changed between then and now is our fear” (Patch.com).
That mom might have a point.  When my friend, Ovie House, was a girl, she and her family lived in Morgantown, just a few blocks away from where she and her little brother, Dale, attended elementary school.  There were eleven children in Ovie’s family—Ovie and Dale were the youngest.  They were allowed to roam freely and play with other children in the neighborhood as long as they didn’t break the cardinal rule of that day: Do not go into anybody else’s house.
  When Ovie was in the second grade and Dale in the first, they decided they’d learned all they needed to know and concluded it was time to quit school.  Their mom worked at a nearby factory, so she left for work each morning before the kids left for school.  The other children were older and didn’t notice that the younger two weren’t in the passel of kids walking to school together at that time, so all that was left for the two little ones to execute their plan was to hide when their mom came home for lunch, which is exactly what they did. 
Ovie’s and Dale’s truancy was entering its third day when the kids heard a knock at the door.  Ovie peeked out the window to see the Vice Principal, Ms. Henrietta Wilson, standing on the door step.  Thinking on her feet, Ovie quickly ushered Dale to his “sick bed” then ran to the door to let the vice principal in. 
Ms. Wilson entered, carrying a cake she had baked just that morning.  It was decorated with all sorts of candies.  Ovie showed Ms. Wilson into where Dale was surely spending his last hours on this earth, and the wise educator quickly assessed the situation and gave it the serious attention it deserved.
“Oh, you poor children,” she said, “I’m so sorry for you.  I brought you this cake, and I’m sure you’ll feel like coming back to school tomorrow.”
As predicted, Dale made a miraculous recovery and they both returned to school the next day.
I asked Ovie what her mom said when she realized her children had quit school--they still had most of the cake, after all.  Ovie said her mom was upset that they had let the vice principal into the house and the beds weren’t made.  The cardinal rule had been broken.  The fact that they had quit school was secondary to that.
Ovie’s mom didn’t love her children any less than parents who watch their kids’ every move, it was just that she had so much on top of her that she couldn’t make a big deal of every little thing.  She worked a public job, took care of a house full of kids, and three of Ovie’s brothers were in the military at the time.  She had more than her share of worry and responsibility.
  The website belonging to the Maryland Coalition to Empower Kids states, “…cases of child abduction and abuse and murder are far lower today than for the previous generation.”  I’m sure they have the statistics to prove that, but I can’t get past the fear of someone I love becoming a negative statistic.  I wish my granddaughter could grow up roaming through her neighborhood, and maybe if we had more Henrietta Wilsons, she could.  As it stands now, I just hope she grows up with enough where-with-all to walk across the street.
 (Thank you, Ovie for giving me permission to share your story.  You had a good mama.)