posted on May, 25 2007 @ 12:50 PM
As I was reading the posts, I initially agreed with most.
But childhood memories began flooding back. We were left free to roam. The beach was on our doorstep and a long, narrow peninsula consisting almost
entirely of sandhills and water-holes, commenced just metres away. It went for miles and miles.
Parenting was different in those days and children were made responsible for their own safety. We kids would meet up early in the morning on school
holidays and weekends --- and that was the last our parents saw of us until near darkness. We were expected to safeguard ourselves and our younger
siblings.
I can remember at least three (no, four, five, six, twenty) occasions on which our lives were definitely on the line. For example, my younger sister
and even younger brother (about seven and three respectively) hopped into a dinghy (small rowboat) which they assumed was anchored. Only when they
were in the middle of the wide river and being carried off by the current, did they realise they had no means of either steering the boat or getting
it back to shore. Fortunately, some good samaritan rowed out and saved them. I was at school at the time. On that occasion, our parents did hear
about the escapade, from the neighbour who'd supposedly been caring for the younger two. She nearly had a heart attack and refused further 'child
care' duties !
On another occasion, a bunch of us (aged about seven years old, bit more, bit less, in some cases) decided to hollow out a sandhill to make a
cubby-house. It took a day or so. We then raided our homes for 'provisions', consisting of bananas, some cakes and bottles of drink, a pack each
of sugar and tea, a billy-can for water and a bottle of kerosene and some matches. There we were, enclosed in a sand-cave, the only 'door' being
the hole at the top. With bunches of dried grass and some twigs, we tried to make a fire to boil the can of water, our intention being to make tea.
The fire wouldn't light because the grass was damp, so we threw kerosene onto it, the way our father's did to get bar-b-ques going.
There must have been six or more of us in the sand cave when the explosion happened.
Some of us were singed, but we all survived, by some miracle. It sobered us up. I can still remember the adrenaline flooding through my veins. Talk
about every child for him/herself. Half of us climbed on others heads in order to get out of what we suddenly realised was a potential sand-coffin.
We limped home, scared. But we learned a lot that day. I'm sure it made us better parents when we eventually had children of our own. None of us
told our parents at the time, because we guessed (pretty accurately I suspect) that we would have received a good hiding for our stupidity. And by
now, we realised we HAD been stupid.
We were caught in bush-fires, nearly drowned in dams and in the ocean and the river, were chased by men who we sensed regarded us differently to the
way our fathers and uncles did, fell out of trees, waged 'wars' with other gangs of kids, spied on courting-couples ... and learned our
individual strengths and weaknesses.
Occasionally, city kids (whose parents had brought them to the beach for a holiday) wanted to join us. It rarely worked out. Their parents would
want 'just some' of us to 'visit for the day', in order, we knew, they could control their own child's activities. It was stifling, being
constantly observed and monitored by anxious adults. " Don't climb that -- you'll fall ! Don't sit on the furniture with sand all over you ---
that couch cost good money! Don't run around the yard like that --- you'll get sunstroke. Don't be so stupid. Of COURSE you can't go swimming!
You ate lunch only an hour ago! You'll drown! "
Poor kids. Their faces showed their misery. Sometimes I'd put up with all the fussing from adults, just to play with the rich-kid's toys or to
wander around their palatial (to me) holiday home. Sometimes we really liked those 'outsider' kids. They were fun when allowed to be themselves.
But eventually we'd drop them, or tell them they could play with us if they wanted, but OUR way, on our home ground. Those who did manage to sneak
away from their overprotective parents had a ball. They discovered and developed a new side to themselves: became spontaneous, self-reliant and
participated in the give and take of the group.
Kids are great little survivors when allowed to be. They possess an innate sense of fair-play, will group against bullies and ostracise them -- will
defend and assist each other against enormous (for them) odds and are easily capable of acts of heroism, wisdom, empathy and altruism. Living
semi-wild develops their intuition and natural abilities enormously.
It's a shame it's not possible to make a genuine ' Kids Survivor' type show, using concealed cameras. It would be refreshing to watch kids
behaving naturally, after decades of neurotic, artificial 'children' in movies and tv., who in turn become 'child role models' in many instances,
in the minds of parents and children alike.
Real children are interested in death, odours, cruelty, sexuality, violence, tastes, colours, the paranormal, noise, weapons, fire, etc. Left to
their own devices and believing themselves unobserved, they would provide entertaining and instructional tv-content that might have the effect of
changing many parents' opinions about what 'childhood' is supposed to be.