You know, sometimes we actually DO get better at protecting kids over time.
I know several men in their late sixties who were sexually molested in their youth by older, “upstanding” men in the community. They didn’t speak up because it wouldn’t help, and because, at that time, it would bring severe consequences. One told his parents, and they told him to shut up.
The way some people on this board talk about the “goog ole days”, whatever stupid parental neglect and evil cultural mores existed in the past, are by definition better than what we have today. I beg to differ.
There were some things better than today about parenting then. But you have to admit there some things worse, too. I don’t think cleaning bloody gashes with turpentine and letting the kid continue the stupid behavior is a custom we should bring back.
IMHO.
There are no “good old days.” I raised three boys. When they were old enough to think a little, my philosophy was: “It’s your head, if you don’t take care of it, I don’t know who will.” The boys were given maximum freedom within bounds. They learned a lot about themselves and the truths of life from child size injuries that kept them from adult size “injuries” as they grew older.
No one wants to see a child hurt, but I watch the world come to a halt when a school bus stops. You know the routine. I see the children get off the bus, knowing the world has stopped for them. I wonder what we are teaching them. Today it’s a schoolbus, but somewhere they are going to have to learn that the world doesn’t come to a stop for them, they are not the center of the universe.
I am old. Molestors and horrible things are as old as time. It’s hateful and rotten.
I have learned something. It isn’t the rotteness of the thing that has happened that’s important. It’s all important how you respond to the rotten thing.
History, literature, and people around us are constant witness to being made stronger by difficulty and tragedy.
We all have our stories. At some point an adult has to say, “That was then, this is now.” There is nothing more pathetic than someone my age still blaming a ruined life on something that happened decades ago.
One of the beauties of menopause memory lapse and using EQUAL in my coffee is that I can’t REMEMBER.