Bubblewrap anyone???
Beth Widner is a mother who lives in Canton, a middle-class suburb of Atlanta, Georgia. She has four kids, whom she homeschools while her husband, Glenn, telecommutes.
In August of 2018, the Widner kids—then ages 13, 11, nine, and seven—were members of a swim team at their local YMCA, which was about two blocks from their house. One day, after swim practice, the 7-year-old, Jackson, lagged behind while the rest of his siblings walked home, and stopped by the grocery for a free cookie.
Full article, HERE from Reason.com
This…just pisses me off. I know I’m old, but dammit, when I was little, we expected to be able to go see our friends by ourselves, in addition to walking to school, and/or riding our bikes everywhere. It was 8 blocks to elementary school, and 10 blocks to one of my best friend’s houses.
And we were doing that in the third grade! Because we were expected to do what we were told, and had the ‘responsibility’ to be allowed to do those things on our own. Was it perfect?
Hell no! I got hit by a car one morning walking to school (it was actually snowing, but I ‘thought’ I was far enough off the road to be okay). I got knocked into the ditch, bell got rung, and I got taken to the doctor, but no serious injuries. One of my friends got hit on his bike by a teenager who ran a stop sign, and he DID end up in the hospital. Another friend ended up shooting himself in the thigh with his .22 while crossing a fence.
And yes, we had .22s, used to strap them to our handlebars and ride down the creek to shoot in the woods. Because we were responsible for ourselves!
All our parents knew each other, and if we did something wrong, we got our butts whipped by whatever parent caught us, the got whipped when we got home, and lost privileges!
Today? If your kids are ‘out of sight’, you are in trouble… CPS, nosy neighbors, etc. will get you hauled off or your kids taken away. Two years ago, I was out helping youngest daughter when she got operated on and it snowed. So the grands were playing in the snow and some of their friends from the cul-de-sac came over to slide down the yard and in the street (it was snowing heavily and NOBODY was driving). Even though we were watching the kids, because ‘I’ wasn’t known to the mother, she came out and sat with us because I ‘might’ be a bad guy.
All I could do was shake my head at her comment…
But I will admit I can see the paranoia now being generated by the left, the MSM, and .gov as they do their damnest to throttle any initiative, responsibility, or adventure for the young kids. And a benefit is forcing the families to ‘watch’ the kids every minute.
But the kids don’t get a chance to play, eat mud, have ‘adventures’ with their friends, play cowboys and indians, or king of the hill, or anything else we did… And the other downside is the kids have many more vulnerabilities/allergies than we did, because they don’t get dirty, or play with animals, etc…
Sigh…
Amendment IV
The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no Warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by Oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized.
Taking your children is unreasonable.
Amendment V
No person shall be held to answer for a capital, or otherwise infamous crime, unless on a presentment or indictment of a Grand Jury, except in cases arising in the land or naval forces, or in the Militia, when in actual service in time of War or public danger; nor shall any person be subject for the same offence to be twice put in jeopardy of life or limb; nor shall be compelled in any criminal case to be a witness against himself, nor be deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor shall private property be taken for public use, without just compensation.
What could be more valuable than your children?
Amendment VI
In all criminal prosecutions, the accused shall enjoy the right to a speedy and public trial, by an impartial jury of the State and district wherein the crime shall have been committed, which district shall have been previously ascertained by law, and to be informed of the nature and cause of the accusation; to be confronted with the witnesses against him; to have compulsory process for obtaining witnesses in his favor, and to have the Assistance of Counsel for his defence.
CPS allows none of this.
Amendment VIII
Excessive bail shall not be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted.
Stealing your children is both cruel and unusual.
That’s nice and all, but we haven’t been a Constitutional Republic for a while. We’re all national socialists. What I mean is we are governed over every aspect of our lives by the government(s) telling us what to and what not to do.
I wish we were a Constitutional Republic again, I have hope still, but more and more, well, we’ll see.
And that’s why I keep posting “There is no law, only Zuul.”
In every study ever done, CPS was found to inflict far, far more harm than good to children, not to mention the anguish of the parents of officially kidnapped children. Even children who were visibly abused generally suffered worse abuse in the CPS system than they did at the hands of their actual parents.
CPS is an abomination, and must be eliminated root and branch.
It’s not about safety. It’s about virtue signaling. Looking for trouble where there is none.
Many moons ago, my eldest brother dispatched me to the corner store for a pack of Luckies when I was about that age. I think he was using my Dad’s tools to work on his car and didn’t want to take the time cleaning up. The cashier was hesitant and asked me who the smokes were for. After assurances that it was for my brother, they sold them to me, but didn’t give me matches.
I was a “free range” kid. I left in the morning, and if I wasn’t gonna be back for dinner I had to call and let them know. Otherwise be home by dark.
Today, of course, my parents would be jailed for allowing that, but back then, lots of us lived that way over the summer.
People are amazed when I tell them that we had a gun club at my high school. Kids brought their guns to school, some had gun racks in their pick ups – no one batted an eye. No one got shot either, there was an expectation that the members were responsible, and it was in New England. I don’t think it’s legal to say “gun” in New England anymore.
We had an indoor .22 rifle range in the basement of our high school. The club that ran it stored rifles and ammo there. And yeah a friend of mine a gun rack in his pickup with a 30-30 in it. Nobody lost their crap over any of it, of course it was Idaho.
I’m the same age as you are. I remember when I was in fourth grade, dad was working in the back yard, he handed me a few bucks and I rode my bike to the grocery store (about three block away) bought a carton of smokes and rode back home. Imagine the flap if a parent did that today.
Grew up in north texas , 100+ degress for days on end , took off on Schwinn stingray wearing cutoffs , no shirt no shoes , gone all day. Swam in creeks to cool off , and anyone’s garden hose was fair game to get a drink (had to let it run awhile to get half cool water) . I can remember when Dallas Richardson Plano Allen and McKinney were separate suburbs with wheat fields between each , central expressway was a four lane highway and Renner road was gravel on the west end of it . Once rode our bikes north to darn near McKinney to buy fireworks, parents never had a clue , but we survived . Texas was fun then , now greater Dallas starts damn near the Red River . A kid would get runover or stopped by cops riding a bike up the service road on such a quest to get fireworks ….progress hmmf!
My only rule for my kids was that I wanted to know where they were going to be so I could find them in an emergency.
Another facet of modern parenting is the “Parents as friends” phenomenon.
When I was a kid, parents were feared, respected and loved in that order. I would never consider either of my parents to be my “friend”. That was not their job. Their job was to impart to me (sometimes harshly) the skills, knowledge and common sense to survive on my own upon attaining adulthood.
My goal as a kid was to survive to 18 so I could move out on my own. Theirs was to assist me in that endeavor.
I had no interest in attending university so it never entered my mind that I would be living with my parents after my 18th birthday. I actually did live with them for three months past my 18th because I was awaiting induction into boot camp; they had mercy on me and didn’t make me try to find an apartment to live in for that last three months, even though I had full time employment. I paid them rent instead.
At any rate, parents these days don’t seem to grok that their job is to ensure that their progeny is capable of surviving on their own, not providing them with a basement apartment until they die and the house gets sold at auction.
BTW, I grew up on a farm so we didn’t “wander the neighborhood” per se, our nearest neighbor was about a half mile away and the next was two miles beyond that, but we did wander down to the creek bed or through the fields to the woods. If we were finished with our homework and/or chores for the day, our parents didn’t usually have any idea where we were at any given time.
It’s actually the thought of the many times I was alone out in the woods and no one knew where I was…had I been injured or trapped and unable to get out, it may have been days before I was found…that prompted my rule about knowing where my kids were going to be. I wasn’t concerned about where they were going, as long as I knew where to look if they didn’t come home.
Mom let me off the leash (metaphorically) at age 5. I was allowed to walk down the street to my friends house. At age 7/8 we lived on Vashon Island in Puget Sound. My playground was the beach as far as I could walk until I got tired. I would wander the tide flats at low tide gigging for flounder. I also had a rowboat and was allowed out on the water unsupervised. By age 11, I was allowed to take our 12 foot aluminum boat and motor out on lakes. My dad’s opinion was if I was strong enough to start the outboard then there was no reason not to keep me ashore. It did involve more training than the rowboat and my father made sure I knew how to handle the boat and what to do if I had problems.
I never knew it, but apparently I was what they called a “latchkey kid”. Both parents worked. I would get home from school about 2 hours before either of my parents. I had a list of chores that had to be done, then get my homework done, then I was free to do what I wanted. It was an idyllic childhood.
With my own kids, I tried to instill a little of that freedom. But I was reprimanded by other parents and once by the police that they were too young for that responsibility. Screw ’em! You don’t get well adjusted kids if you bubble wrap them until they are 18, then suddenly let them loose on the world. They won’t have any problem solving or decision making skills.
And oh yeah , Frisco was up 289 (Preston Rd.) two lane highway , had a flashing yellow light , had a water tower that said , “Home of the Fighting Coons” and had a landmark , a trailer home massage parlor called “The Body Shop” with parking in the back . Now Frisco is much more “hoity toity ” and quite fancy .
Yup, total B.S. ‘Nother Olde Pharte here. Grew up as a young lad on a ranch in the California Gold Rush country. Learned to drive our WWII surplus jeep by age 8, which came in handy during my Army hitch. Had three concussions before I made it high school. For the last one, I was riding bareback at a gallop and my horse stumbled and went down with me. Woke up in the hospital (a 45 minute drive away) with my left arm in a cast. I claim no lasting ill effects, but there are still a few out there who beg to differ.
I recently discovered that concussions can be a big problem for mental and physical development when young. I’m not clear on the age that it changes to a less hazardous condition. However, the younger, the worse the effect. Multiples magnify it to some extent.
Well maybe if they executed pedophiles, or at least kept them in prison for LIFE, rather than just letting them go all the time, it would be safe?
This is how you know that raping minors is a big thing for democrats and leftists -> They Won’t Punish Those Doing It. Because fellow travelers.
Children now are property of the state and parents are caretakers in the view of government employees, especially ‘educators’. Raising mine, had to forcibly remind them their policies are not the same as a law.
This is why 18-30 year olds have no idea how to live what we would call a normal life.
Look up the name “Lenore Skenazy” or the keyword: freerangekids. This lady has been tilting at this particular windmill since 2008, and good on her for doing so.
Yep, at age 7 I would hop on the city bus for a trip across town to the skating rink. No one would bat an eye. I would however have to “pull a switch” if I walked the mile to my cousin’s. Not for going, just for not telling anyone that I WAS going. Different times.
A pack of us roamed the backyards in Omaha, riding a mile or two to the candy store or school, or wandering along a stream wherever it led us. Our parents just told us to be back in time for supper. A phone tree developed to summon us from whichever back yard we ended up closest to.
Dang, I miss those days. (But not the nettles and mosquitoes.)
That wasn’t an earthquake in NY.
It was the Founders rolling over in their graves.
All- Thanks, and by ‘todays’ mantra, none of us should have survived… sigh…
One of the things I like about living in Japan is that kids are expected to take themselves to/from school/friends houses etc. from age 7 or 8. Sometimes earlier.
Every school day morning I look out the back window at 7:30 and see groups of
“whining school[children] , with [their] satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school.”
And sometime between 3 & 4 in the afternoon I see them straggling back
Kids being kids stopped when Watterson stopped drawing “Calvin and Hobbes”.
Might be why C&H rings so true to Late Boomers.
Come Saturday morning, if we were watching cartoons, at 10AM, unless it was pouring buckets, Mom would pop into the living room, say “Go outside and play!” and switch the set off. That was it, were were dismissed, and TV time was over.
(Not least of which so she and Dad could enjoy some peace and quiet on their day off too.)
Baby Brother and I had Sears banana-seat one speeds, which meant anything within 5 miles was doable, if we had the notion and the thigh muscles. Only rule was back home for dinner at 6, and inside for good when the street lights came on around 8ish.
So for 8 hours or so, we were entirely on our own.
Hit the library, over next to the fire station. Sometimes the doors were open, and we could gawk at the fire engine. Cruise through the drug store toy section, the model shop, and the surplus store looking for worthy treasures.
Then over to the mall (first one anywhere). Two-level Disneyland, right there. And nobody bothered us, and we weren’t doing anything to get bothered in the first place.
End with a stop at Thrifty Drug (now Rite-Aid) store’s ice cream counter, 30′ long if it was a foot.
A nickel a scoop. A guy with 15¢ could snack like a king.
Being quietly evil, we’d pick three flavors at opposite ends of the counter, and for that 15 cents, we could have the ice cream guy walking aaaaaaaall the way to one end, then aaaaall the way back, and then aaaall the way to the far end, and finally back to the register to get our hard-earned cash.
And then the other one of us would do the same thing to him, with three different flavors.
If the guy ever caught on to the game, he never let on.
Polish off the ice cream before it melted, then miles up the street to the last farm left, that still had cows.
Back down to miniature golf which was a buck, or the tri-plex, which was $2. Walked there to see Star Wars when it opened, in a line that stretched two blocks: out to the street, down to the corner, then 1/4 mile down the second street. Waited three shows to get inside for that one.
After a movie or 18 holes of putt-putt golf, up the street a mile to the city park. Maybe a stop at Arby’s. Hang out in the shade, fill up water bottles on the bike frame, watch the clouds go by.
Cruise back down to lookie-loo at the sporting goods store, then over to the post office, to check out the Wanted posters in case we ran across any bona fide crooks on the loose.
Wander through the garden shop, then over to the pet store to see the kittens, puppies, and fish at the free zoo.
Still daylight, we’d comb and patrol every foot of every block and back alley within a mile of home, which we knew as well as our own yard. Always checked the one house that still had a horse in the back yard lot, through the 1980s.
Never got hassled or in trouble, crossed at the light, walked our bikes at crosswalks, and never even talked to a policeman. Anywhere within three blocks of home, never screwed up at all, because we knew the Neighborhood FBI would have reported any defaults to our Mom before we got there, and we would have paid dearly.
Sometimes we’d cruise through the parking lot at the rocket factory, which had a Saturn V main engine sitting out front, in the part of the lot we could ride up to without a gate pass.
Got home for dinner, burned it off in the back yard before dark, and slid into the living room just in time for Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom, followed by Disney, making sure not to be a minute early to avoid being subjected to Lawrence Welk And His Elevator Muzak Band.
Kids today are bubble-wrapped, helicoptered, and molly-coddled.
They should be wrangled into 10-kid units, and dropped off with one adult in the desert or the local national forest every weekend, with nothing but a sleeping bag, knapsack, three PBJs, and two cans of canned chili or stew. And taught how to fend for themselves and make their own entertainment, miles from any tech. No cell phones, no Gameboys, no nonsense. The highest tech gear I’d let them bring would be a flashlight.
Knife? Compass? Magnifying glass? Mirror? Paracord? Sure thing.
Their IQ and self-sufficiency would go up 10 points a weekend, for a certainty. And their body fat would drop 1% a week until it hit normal.