…on such a beautiful day.
One of the first things I read this morning was an article in The Wall Street Journal about preparing children to grow up in a country that’s so reviled in some parts of the world. From the story:
On the long list of troubling things that parents need to discuss with kids today — from school shootings to the risks of terrorism — it’s vital to include a look at America’s place in the world. How can parents explain recent hate-filled speeches by the leaders of Iran and Venezuela? How can we help kids process the disparaging things being said about our leaders, morals and lifestyles? How do we balance our love of country with our desire to make our children good citizens of the world?
I can still recall being 15 or 16 and having vivid nightmares in which I was standing outside my house in the middle of the night. Tremendous dark missiles roared over my head on their way to some distant target on the West Coast, their thick, billowing exhaust plumes lying behind them like ragged gray scars across the sky. I was filled with panic and sadness, and while the dreams never included an actual exploding bomb, I remember the terrible feeling of helplessness as I set about trying to find all my family and friends so I could say goodbye to them. I woke up sobbing on more than one occasion.
There was plenty of nuclear paranoia to go around at the time. The idea that small, unstable countries would get the bomb was still a ways out from the public consciousness; the Soviet Union was threat enough. And then there were movies like Testament and The Day After that ratcheted up the bomb fear to ever-more-gut-wrenching levels. I can still feel my chest tighten at the thought of Scottie Wetherly’s mom running all through her house, searching desperately for his teddy bear, refusing to let her son be buried before she can find it.
So I see Ava with her teddy bear now and wonder sometimes what kinds of dreams she might one day have. She’s so empathetic already, so aware of the world and the feelings of people around her. She doesn’t know about hate or war or death. If only there were a way to keep her from it all.