Can I just say again that I loved this chapter? I think he's absolutely, spot-on, correct on the big idea of the chapter. The story of Tormentaria was brilliant. There were statements, many so poignant, that gave me goosebumps.
Most of the examples were of the daring-do of boys, so you'll get more ideas for feeding (or destroying) the imagination of boys than girls. My girls just have not been as interested in sports on the street or climbing trees much past the age of 12 or 13. But this chapter also brought to mind all of my dad's stories of his childhood, like many of the old-timers' stories. Being gone all day, knowing that the whole neighborhood was watching out for you (not just *watching* you), but still up to no good. :-) Singing songs about the crotchety guy down the street as they passed his house. "Smarty, smarty, had a party, nobody came but Ol'Doc Farley." Dad had an older brother and a younger brother (and some sisters, but they don't show up much in his crazy adventure stories), and Dad tells about how he and his brothers found a nest of copperheads one day. Do you think they left that nest alone? Of course not.
Most of the examples were of the daring-do of boys, so you'll get more ideas for feeding (or destroying) the imagination of boys than girls. My girls just have not been as interested in sports on the street or climbing trees much past the age of 12 or 13. But this chapter also brought to mind all of my dad's stories of his childhood, like many of the old-timers' stories. Being gone all day, knowing that the whole neighborhood was watching out for you (not just *watching* you), but still up to no good. :-) Singing songs about the crotchety guy down the street as they passed his house. "Smarty, smarty, had a party, nobody came but Ol'Doc Farley." Dad had an older brother and a younger brother (and some sisters, but they don't show up much in his crazy adventure stories), and Dad tells about how he and his brothers found a nest of copperheads one day. Do you think they left that nest alone? Of course not.
Our family has moved about 6 times. We've lived in a 100 year old house in a small town, a development near DC, rented in another development, to 20 acres of mostly woods (lots of nature, not lots of neighbor kids), to a Victorian townhouse on a crowded street, to the development we are in now. When I think back on all of the houses, I realize that each house has been perfect for that time in our lives. At this house, we have some, but not a lot of woods for our son to roam. There's also a sizable creek. It's not in our back yard, and that makes it all the more attractive. There's enough here for him to test himself with his friends. He's goes into the woods with pocket knives and other real tools. They've built rickety treehouses (until we get in trouble with the neighborhood association and have to take it down) and have climbed much too high. I stopped watching how high. He's been allowed to ride bikes with his best buddy within a 5-10 mile radius of the house. He and the neighbor boys have spent many hours dividing themselves up into teams to play all sorts of sports.
I have noticed that the boy whose mom and dad butt their noses in too much is often not invited to play in their "reindeer games." He has gone whining to his momma one too many times. They aren't mean to him; they just don't go out of their way to include him.
I'm convinced that it's a mistake to not let my son have this freedom. There are predators in our town. I know. I've typed my zip code into those websites too. We have him take his pocketknife (hey, it's a little bit of protection) and take a cell phone. Do I pray for his safety? You bet. Do I worry? Oh, yes. But I know he needs this.
It's interesting though. Even with the freedom that my son has been allowed to have, it's not as much as my dad's was, nor as much as what was described in the chapter. But we're doing the best we can.
I do think that many of these activities would not be possible if it weren't for CM and her principles. The principles of authority and freedom do eventually sink in.
Esolen kept saying that he doesn't see kids playing outside. We've only lived in one house where that has been the case, and there weren't any other kids in that neighborhood. I had two little girls that just rode their bikes by themselves on the sidewalks. But I pass kids playing outside all the time. When we were traveling in upstate NY after Christmas, we passed a creek that was frozen over, and there were 5 or 6 teen boys playing ice hockey there. They were having a grand time. My experience hasn't been as dismal as Esolen's.
The middle paragraph on pg. 49 made me think of the Chinese mother article, and that made me think of mothers and fathers who end up having to take on the role of being the ones who rub the rough edges off their children because they don't let it happen naturally among their peers. We still do a lot of rubbing off, but it is good to not be the one to do it all the time.
(I didn't agree with the criticism of decorating with bright colors though. I love color. And most colors really are in nature - just not a big wall of it. We've just become so used to neutral that we are shocked by the use of color in rooms now. But that's another post.)
Esolen mentions electronic games. It's a part of our culture that I know next to nothing about. We don't have any at our house. My son has played some games with a cousin or a friend, they don't hold his interest for long. They rarely come up in conversation around here, so I thought I would talk to my son about them. What did he think of them? I found what he told me to be so interesting. He said that boys rate each other on how good you are at it. They consider what kind of game it is, the rating, and often how violent they are. The higher the rating, the cooler you are, and the more you are admired. How ironic -- we remove competition from every wholesome game, and then the boys just start competing over something else. He said the the ratings on the box just make it more tantalizing to the younger ones. They are cool if they can say that they've played something that is out of their 'rating range.'
Then he was on a roll, and I just sat and typed while he talked. He said these games hinder their idea of heroism. He said that when you're outside playing you have to think on your feet, and the environment is not controlled. Sometimes you have to really be brave or wise. And you have to make a good decision the first time around. No do-overs. You build a 'village' out in the woods and barter for things. You learn not to be fooled by a bad deal. You sure don't want to lose your pocketknife, so you learn to be more careful.
In a virtual game, things lose their value because you can always get them back; there's always the 'save' button or you start over. You don't really suffer consequences. He said if you have a real live little sister with you, you make better decisions because you can't do all of those dangerous things - you can't climb tall trees, you have to guide them past the trap hole that you dug to trap the other guys (hey, I'm just writing what he said.) He said you learn to treat girls differently, with more respect. But with a virtual game you blow up your friends.
He said that the fame a boy gets from these games is also virtual, but your fame lasts longer when you do something real. He thinks the attraction of the games is from the fact that boys are confined too much and can't get out and really do things because of suburbia, etc. He also felt that kids are more destructive when they can't get outside and do real things. He gave an example that involved somebody's hose and sprinkler. :-/
It's interesting though. Even with the freedom that my son has been allowed to have, it's not as much as my dad's was, nor as much as what was described in the chapter. But we're doing the best we can.
I do think that many of these activities would not be possible if it weren't for CM and her principles. The principles of authority and freedom do eventually sink in.
Esolen kept saying that he doesn't see kids playing outside. We've only lived in one house where that has been the case, and there weren't any other kids in that neighborhood. I had two little girls that just rode their bikes by themselves on the sidewalks. But I pass kids playing outside all the time. When we were traveling in upstate NY after Christmas, we passed a creek that was frozen over, and there were 5 or 6 teen boys playing ice hockey there. They were having a grand time. My experience hasn't been as dismal as Esolen's.
The middle paragraph on pg. 49 made me think of the Chinese mother article, and that made me think of mothers and fathers who end up having to take on the role of being the ones who rub the rough edges off their children because they don't let it happen naturally among their peers. We still do a lot of rubbing off, but it is good to not be the one to do it all the time.
(I didn't agree with the criticism of decorating with bright colors though. I love color. And most colors really are in nature - just not a big wall of it. We've just become so used to neutral that we are shocked by the use of color in rooms now. But that's another post.)
Esolen mentions electronic games. It's a part of our culture that I know next to nothing about. We don't have any at our house. My son has played some games with a cousin or a friend, they don't hold his interest for long. They rarely come up in conversation around here, so I thought I would talk to my son about them. What did he think of them? I found what he told me to be so interesting. He said that boys rate each other on how good you are at it. They consider what kind of game it is, the rating, and often how violent they are. The higher the rating, the cooler you are, and the more you are admired. How ironic -- we remove competition from every wholesome game, and then the boys just start competing over something else. He said the the ratings on the box just make it more tantalizing to the younger ones. They are cool if they can say that they've played something that is out of their 'rating range.'
Then he was on a roll, and I just sat and typed while he talked. He said these games hinder their idea of heroism. He said that when you're outside playing you have to think on your feet, and the environment is not controlled. Sometimes you have to really be brave or wise. And you have to make a good decision the first time around. No do-overs. You build a 'village' out in the woods and barter for things. You learn not to be fooled by a bad deal. You sure don't want to lose your pocketknife, so you learn to be more careful.
In a virtual game, things lose their value because you can always get them back; there's always the 'save' button or you start over. You don't really suffer consequences. He said if you have a real live little sister with you, you make better decisions because you can't do all of those dangerous things - you can't climb tall trees, you have to guide them past the trap hole that you dug to trap the other guys (hey, I'm just writing what he said.) He said you learn to treat girls differently, with more respect. But with a virtual game you blow up your friends.
He said that the fame a boy gets from these games is also virtual, but your fame lasts longer when you do something real. He thinks the attraction of the games is from the fact that boys are confined too much and can't get out and really do things because of suburbia, etc. He also felt that kids are more destructive when they can't get outside and do real things. He gave an example that involved somebody's hose and sprinkler. :-/
I liked this from pg. 64: "...boys simply will not develop their character if everything is always kept perfectly safe for them."
I also appreciated his inclusion of the "power of poetry to move us to virtue." It reminded me to get out those poetry anthologies and to search Cindy's site for poetry posts.
by Mary Randolph Carter