Internalizing Danger

So because of our frequent (and sometimes only) commenter Rob, I ended up reading a series of posts on another blog about kids and "stranger danger".  The author's main point:

There's this attitude in this country that any man who is interested in or talking to children is a child molester. I think that this is as dangerous an idea as the idea that all women are objects/sluts/etc. It is as destructive as the idea that all Arabs are terrorists. It is not a prejudice that I think should be taken lightly

Instead, she suggests that we "start parenting from a point of logic and sanity, instead of parenting out of fear."

First of all, amen.

Now, I tend to agree with the sentiment.  I do think there is in parenting circles today (God, the prudent academic in me is gagging on the broad generalizations, but whatever) a rush to identify and eliminate risks.  Hence we get recalls of cribs that can injure a baby when not put together properly, warnings to be hypervigilant for potential food allergies, and on and on.  Do all of these have a degree of worthwhile caution?  Absolutely.  Does Nicholas eat the occasional strawberry or piece of chocolate?  Yep.  Call Child Protective Services right away!

In painting all adult men with the broad brushstroke of "danger," I would argue we actually make it more difficult for children (adults, too) to figure out just who is and is not dangerous.  If we eliminate all nuance from the discussion, children have no skill set from which to draw to calculate much of anything about the people they encounter.  (And speaking of generalizations, boy could I go to town on a loss of nuance in society.  But this blog is about Nicholas, childhood, and parenting, so enough about that.)  It would seem much better, then, to develop a comfort around people who are extremely safe (family and close friends), and give Nicholas the means to figure out for himself how to trust neighbors, how to decide how much to trust strangers he encounters.

And I ended up commenting on one of the posts, because the discussion turned to how this woman's husband felt that he couldn't be open with kids around because of this very danger.  I must admit that I share that feeling as well, and it makes me sad.  It also reminds me of my grandfather.  Here was a man who lived to have fun with kids.  He was the kind of person who could see a five-year-old with an ice cream cone, walk up, take a bite of the ice cream from the kid, and have the kid laughing in stitches.  So maybe he posed a public health risk if he had a cold, but the point is that he never once seemed to think about whether kids would find him threatening.  Now maybe some of that ease came from knowing him later in life (being a grandfather probably helps in knowing how to appear innocuous and fun), but from what I've heard, that's what he was always like.  But how would he behave today?  Would he have mall security escorting him from the food court for talking to a little girl and making faces at her?

The point is, if I even have one, that I have some of those genes that allow me to interact with people and to want to interact with kids (not nearly as many—I would never even contemplate crashing a wedding in East Asia, let alone do it).  But I don't interact with kids I don't know.  Now, you might ask just how much that kid at the next table at Red Robin loses because I don't smile back when he looks over.  In the grand scheme of his day, probably not all that much.  But on the other hand, it's the little things.  If society has made the two of us mutually nervous to extend what should be common courtesy, that makes the world just a little bit less fun, a little bit more sad, a little bit too protected.  Multiplied over dozens of interactions, kids learn not to trust anyone, and that can't be good for any of us.