“Slow down and chew your food,” I said to the boy sitting next to me.
“Is he your son? “ the young man from Brazil asked.
“No, I treat all children like they’re mine!”
Growing up in South Bend, IN the neighbors looked out for each other and their children. Mrs. Sharp would let me have it verbally and sometimes physically when I was misbehaving. Sometimes, the report went to my parents and I heard about it again. Behavior in our home and outside became important.
I am suspicious of politicians and their kind, when they speak of the village raising a child. It smells and feels like 1984, Brave New World and Fahrenheit 451 in one sentence. We may be citizens of the world, but the people in our home and the neighborhood are the ones we see and touch. The future of the community depends on how the children are taught and guided. The responsibility begins in the home and is supported by the rest.
“Thank you for doing that!” Tammy said. I looked at her to make sure she meant it in a good way. She did.
Faith, the 3 year daughter had bit me on the hand. I responded with “Oh, yeah, let’s see how you like it when I do that to you!” It was a in the heat of the battle response. Surprised, Faith didn’t cry, she only stared at me. The good news is she stopped biting her brother and others.
“Who are the children in your life?” Emily says when demonstrating Discovery Toys. Emily never assumes. This way she includes grandparents, uncles and aunts, step-parents and family friends. The village raising a child fits.
Learning to ride a bicycle for me was more about competing with Tobey my younger brother. We both got our first bicycles, used ones, on the same day. I was 5 and Tobey was 4. He figured out balance and braking quickly. I could handle the balance part and I struggled with braking. I would drag my bare left foot to ensure stopping and not falling down. My foot got bloody until Mr. Wall, our neighbor four doors down spoke to me.
“If you learn how to stop with both feet in a week, I will give you a model airplane” I took the challenge and succeeded in 3 days. “Look Mr. Wall, I can do it!” He smiled and told me how proud he was that I had succeeded. A week later, he presented me with a model of several small airplanes mounted on a stand. It was my first trophy.
A few years ago, while walking in our neighborhood I watched a boy struggle to ride his bicycle for more than a few feet before crashing. I came up behind him, held the seat and ran behind him. “You’re doing it. Good job!” I said and let him go. He kept riding for few houses before he fell down. We tried it again. I then left him to ride on his own. Mr. Wall’s encouragement was paid forward to this boy.
The more people I meet and the older I get, my village grows. Recently, I drove 1.5 hours to Toledo,OH to participate in the first annual Father Walk. I met parents with young children and some with teenagers.
“Do you have to read the book (“1984”)?” I asked the young man.
He nodded and said it was for a summer reading program. “Have you read “Brave New World”, he hadn’t and Fahrenheit 451 he had. His mother encouraged him to write the titles down. I shared how only Fahrenheit 451 gives hope because Bible verses are memorized by Montag, the main character. Also, that you can destroy the printed page but you can’t destroy the imprint on the heart and mind of the reader.
Later, I walked side by side with Brandy, whose teenage son is a on a traveling basketball team. The team prays, plays and mentors. This team was started by another mother.
“The program is unfunded and all done by volunteers,” Brandy said. “There is such a need for similar programs. I agreed. At least this local village is caring for its own.