You're On Your Own, Kid

This being the first full week of school since the holiday break, I've been anticipating some fussing, some reluctance to cooperate, and some bleary, sleepy mornings. And since this is the first full week back to work since a spate of days off, I've been expecting the same from myself and my husband. Ahem. Turns out Henry has been a cooperation champ lately, so if there's any fussing going on, it's coming from me. 

So far, the week back to school has been uneventful, at least for us. A mate of my son's had a rough day yesterday, though. I meet Henry after school to drive him home—we live too far away for him to walk, and we pulled him off of the school bus last year for reasons I'll have to get into in another posting. (I'll just say here: you think you've prepared your kid for some of the bad things that can happen. Then it turns out you haven't thought of them all.) I know several of Henry's friends, and a few of their parents, by virtue of my presence at the school yard every day. One boy's parents seem to arrive a little later than most of the adults from time to time, so I've gotten used to his hanging out with us until he sees mom or dad. Yesterday, as the crowd thinned out, I could see he was growing more and more anxious, and I was getting concerned. Of course, I would stay with him until I saw one of his grown-ups, but he was really worried. My being there with him (and my son's trying to distract him with snowballs) wasn't helping. 

Finally, after the school yard was pretty empty, he had the idea to go back to his classroom to see if his teacher had heard anything. We went back inside and his teacher calmly told him he was supposed to walk home that day. His mom had called and instructed him to walk home. He froze, then blurted out, "the whole way?" and burst into tears and ran away from us. I called him back and offered to drive him home, but he was in a hurry. I imagine they had discussed this at home, maybe they'd practiced his doing this on his own, but he seemed stunned. He took off on foot, headed for home, and refused our offer to walk with him. I wish I'd insisted. 

I found out the next day that his mother had been looking for him on his path home, and I didn't get to speak to her to see how it had gone. He lives blocks and blocks from school, and he has to cross some busy streets to get there. He's six years old, like my son. I know we parents want and need to teach our kids how to do things for themselves, and giving them wings is our job. But it broke my heart that he was so upset about walking home alone. Is this what Free Range Kids is all about, or was this an error in judgment? He didn't seem ready for what was being asked of him. Would my son be able to find his way home if he suddenly was being asked to? I have no idea. 

The Kids Are Alright...Right?

I've read two blog posts today that have me thinking about my son's personal safety. One was written by Lenore Skenazy at her blog, Free Range Kids. She wrote about her 10-year-old-son's train ride that ended with police, a train conductor, and Lenore trying to come to to terms with the fact that the boy had just taken a train ride—gasp!—all alone. The other was over at Strollerderby and was about one mother's confidence in her sons' ownership of pocket knives. Knives that could come in handy if the boys ever found themselves in a tussle with an adult who means to harm them. Yikes. 

Lenore has written before about her child's adventures in freedom. You may have read her widely-covered article about her son negotiating New York public transportation to find his way home from a retail store. Parents all over the country cried foul as they vilified her for trusting her son to recall what he'd been taught about personal safety and danger avoidance. 

My husband and I discussed the article for some time, he more ready to cheer and I more ready to simmer in skepticism. And this is interesting because he grew up fairly sheltered in a small California town, while I ran around Cincinnati taking the bus from morning till night. So why am I so reluctant to nurture the same independence in my own son? Well, given that he's only six, I'm pretty sure I don't need to teach him the bus routes to downtown Minneapolis just yet, but there will come a time that I'll need to let go. We only recently gave him an errand to do on his own, delivering an envelope to a neighbor's house on the next block. He was so proud when he returned, and I was too, as I breathed a sigh of relief. I know it's time for more miniature outings for my son. 

Sooner than I'd like to admit Henry will be asking to go to our nearby grocery store, drug store, or McDonald's, to spend some of his allowance. And why shouldn't he? When I was just a few years older than he is now I visited our local Kroger's at all times of the day and night. I shopped at the drug store and ate at the restaurants and ice cream shops and went to $1 movies at the local theater. I did this without my parents, or even my big sister. I walked blocks and blocks to and from the bus stops and I ran around downtown like it was my backyard. 

Am I a hypocrite? I feel like one. I want to say without hesitation that I'll encourage my son to try his wings and let him develop street smarts of his own. I want to say that I'll happily send him off to the bus stop or the light rail station. I want to declare with certainty that my son will make good decisions because I've taught him well. Will I give him a pocket knife? Probably not. It's just not something that's been done in my family. But the fact that a child might actually need a knife to fend off the boogie man someday? That's going to keep me up nights.