What does community mean for raising young children? Does it mean proximity to family and friends? A supportive church? Good schools? These things, while important, leave out a crucial, and quite simple, element-people themselves. As a parent, I'm ashamed to say that people at large tend to fade into a background of potential dangers. I hold tightly to the Little Badgers, eyeballing them leaving the house, barking orders at them walking down the sidewalk, keeping them in line in stores. I tell myself that all this is putting their safety and protection first. If I relax, they could get hit by a car, or grabbed by a stranger. If I let my guard down, they could be the subject of angry glares by other customers, or sharp comments about their behavior. Essentially, there's a whole lot of negativity about what might happen. What seems the best thing, in the moment, may not be the better way, overall. This was brought home recently by a positive encounter that I couldn't have predicted.
The other day I took the Little Badgers to the grocery store. They were very good in the store, helping to carry the basket and putting the candy back when I asked. However, on the way back, it was like they, actually Big Brother Badger in particular, needed to make up for it. He refused to listen when I asked him to walk near me on the sidewalk, and he threatened to bolt across crosswalks before I could get there. Finally, he broke and ran across the street. I yelled at him to get back to me, and after initially hesitating, he reluctantly returned. I grabbed the front of his jacket and gave him a stern talking-to. He was being smart, and smirked at me the whole time. Not good. As I stood up, though, I heard a man say, "Excuse me!" My first thought was that the stranger was going to say something negative to me about my handling of the situation, but, instead, he came over and addressed Big Brother Badger.
"You like to run, don't you?" he asked. I noticed that the man was wearing a jacket with a track club logo on it. Maybe a coach? Our Boy Badger was, at this point, shuffling his feet and looking (finally!) sheepish. The man introduced himself and asked Big Brother his name. I prompted him, and he did it. Mr. H told him that it wasn't a good idea to run across streets and disobey his mother. Big Brother gave a very quiet, "Yes, sir." Mr. H reminded him to listen, and to be a good example for his younger brother and sister. Then he smiled at me and said, "Good-bye, now, nice to meet you." Big Brother mumbled a reply, and shook hands. I said "Thank you", and we continued on. My energetic Badger made sure to hold my hand when we crossed the street from that point forward.
This one encounter with a total stranger helped on a several counts. Big Brother realized that his disobedience was considered wrong by others, not just Silly Mommy. He was encouraged to be polite, and to address someone with respect, shaking hands, making eye contact, saying his name. But, perhaps more powerful, was the dawning feeling I had, that a community made up mostly of strangers, might share a common goal to help raise up children right. I suppose I could have been annoyed, having a stranger come up and talk to my son. Instead, I felt grateful. There were others who cared about a small child doing dangerous things. It made me proud of my community.
I don't think I'm going to stop watching the Little Badgers like a hawk when they walk next to a busy road, or hold their hands when we're in parking lots. I don't think I'm going to stop sternly insisting they behave correctly in the store, or to be respectful. But, I do think I'm going to see people in our community differently. Being a parent might feel isolating at times, but I'm happy to discover support in unlikely places.
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