Wednesday, June 13, 2018

Some Musings on Children and Summer

Last week I went to the Central Park Zoo with my oldest friend.  She had her 14-year-old grandson with her for the summer, so he came too.  Based on things she had told me, I thought he was interested in wildlife, particularly birds, but he said no, he wasn't interested in birds, he preferred dogs, so I asked him about his dog.  That was probably the last verbal interchange we had.  After that his ears were so totally plugged up with whatever he was listening to (my friend said it was Rap, but I wouldn't have cared if it had been Bach) that he did not respond to any attempts to make conversation.  I complained about it to my friend and she said "well, he's 14".  I don't consider that a valid excuse.  He needs to be taught that that sort of behavior just, as the British say "won't do".  At what age are young people supposed to be taught manners, then?  Fine if he looks sullen, fine if he looks bored.  People can't be expected to control the fact that emotions show on their faces.  That's acceptable for 14.  But when you are someplace, that's where you are. You don't block out where you are with plugs in your ears.  Of course adults do this too, and  (because I'm an "ear person"?) I find this much worse than sitting and texting.  At least if you're doing that and someone speaks to you you know you've been spoken to. 

Fourteen was pretty much my last chance to take the right "fork in the road" and I didn't.  I'm not sure what would have made a difference; there was such a terrible confluence of circumstances.  An eating disorder, my mother's preoccupation with grieving over my father's death, my lack of adult mentors (most of the adults I saw in my mother's house were drinking and being smartass).  And of course the fact that it was the 60s, when it was cool to say yes to drugs and no to just about everything else: school, career plans, thinking about a future, learning homemaking and budgeting skills... But even I would have responded if someone spoke to me in the course of an afternoon when my mother dragged me off to an "enrichment activity" with her friends.  I might have said something stupid or something fresh, but I would have said something.

So I think of all the "theater kids" (did that phrase even exist before the millennium? I doubt it).  And the kids who are in enrichment programs and intensive courses which means summers away in beautiful surroundings.  Middle class kids have these things paid for by parents.  Some less privileged kids can get scholarships if they're lucky. Sometimes I think there are two types of kids (irrespective of race or class).  The ones who appreciate the chance to build a future and the ones who snub adults and try to be cool.  As I said in an earlier post about marijuana, the world is too competitive and harsh to shoot yourself in the foot by saying no to your future to spite grownups.  The fallout from that will still be with you when you're 60.  I know.

Ah, summer!  Since I haven't been working and have been a caregiver I haven't really had a summer.  Another marker of being a middle-class professional: summers away.  All those summer music festivals.  Professional and emerging professional musicians get to go to these.  Sometimes I shut my eyes and think how desperately I yearn to be someplace like that. There are ones for writers and artists too.  I forget the generic catch-all phrase for these.  Colonies? 

I know that one of the things that antagonized the loathesome LC (in addition to my talking about myself instead of sobbing over the shooting in Orlando the week following) was that I referred to myself as "underprivileged".  Well I think I am.  I'm not really poor; I don't worry about how I'm going to pay the rent or buy food, and I have a few small luxuries, but I don't go away for the summer.  That's what "underprivileged" means to me.  That's why there's a "fresh air fund" for kids.

Maybe there's a music and arts "camp" for senior citizens.  If I ever have some free time I will look for one and scrounge up the money.

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