I have a few people in my life who roll their eyes at me a lot. When I tell them about lead paint on toys, they tell me the problem can’t be as significant as the media would have us believe. When I tell them about not wanting my son to play with toy guns, they think I’m being ridiculous. When I bring up the ideas that I like toys to have some sort of redeeming value—to be educational or developmental—they snort and tell me I should let my son be a kid.
When I was growing up in the 1970s, we didn’t have car seats. Heck, we didn’t have seatbelts. I remember lying on the back window ledge of my father’s car and rolling off it whenever he slammed on the brakes. I remember spending lazy summer days, lounging on the roof of our garage, leisurely peeling old pieces of lead paint from the chipped walls and flicking them into the air.
These are the memories that these people say prove that we’re being much too safe nowadays, that we’ve taken safety to a ridiculous level and we are overprotective. I survived, they’ll remind me, so why am I being so silly about toy guns, a little old paint, and a few tiny pieces of toys that can come off in my kid’s hands?
Many people in my generation did a fair amount of drugs when they were growing up. Some died, most lived good lives. A lot of kids smoked cigarettes and drank excessive quantities of alcohol. Some died, most gave it up and are now productive members of society. A lot of people I knew did a lot of stupid, dangerous, crazy things and while only a few died, most are still here today.
But the fact is, some died. They died because people were careless. They weren’t aware enough to know what they were doing would get them killed and no one looked out for them.
Let them roll their eyes at me. Caring about children is one thing I will never apologize for.
December 11, 2007
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