Wild Child

Pretty interesting article by Michael Chabon in The New York Review of Books a few weeks ago: The Wilderness of Childhood. Relatively oft-repeated lament, that our children are growing up much more protected than in the good ol' days, with parental fear replacing common sense, despite the fact that stranger-danger has remained fairly consistent (and low) for decades.

And it's true -- I rarely if ever see children walking to school without a parent, or playing on the Green out front without adult supervision. So different from my day (oh, cast my mind back into the eons ago) where I got myself to school from age 5 (right mom?) whether by foot or bus. And I certainly remember riding my bike all over (admittedly small) Durham, NH, especially to the library and swimming pool.

Those were my adventures, as Chabon characterises those adult-less forays. But what I found most thought-provoking about his article is not so much the fact children are more protected these days, but how it might affect literature of the future. As so much story telling is based around adventures and journeys, what happens when the writers of tomorrow have no experience of adventuring themselves today?

As a parent, now, though... how much adventuring will I let Paige do? I'd like to think I'll be laid back about her wanders... but imagine that's unlikely to be the case as I watch her every (eventual) step.