I’ve been thinking about that saying, ‘It takes a village to raise a child.’ Never does that saying ring in my head more clearly than this time of year, when many of our children are running in and out of neighbourhood houses in the glorious long days of summer, with several parents around to keep a watchful eye.
I thought about it again when I recently read a blog where a woman complained about “Dawson” from down the street. Every day, she’d hear him ringing the doorbell and would see her children make a face as if to say, ‘Not again.’ She complained how rude it was that his parents didn’t seem to care if he spent hours at her place, never sending her a heads-up message or asking if it was OK he was there.
I felt for her, thinking how annoying that would be, until I read some of the comments on the blog. People wrote, ‘That was me growing up. I went to my neighbours because I didn’t want to go home.” Or, others said, they had been in the same boat as the writer and welcomed a neighbour’s child, feeling sorry for the child. Some said they went so far as to take these neglected children camping or on vacations, and they became part of the family.
I do believe it’s important to be courteous as a neighbour. It can be overwhelming to have your own young ones all day, without adding extra kids to the mix to feed and entertain. I feel fortunate that in our neighbourhood, we work together to look after our kids, taking it in turns to host, dole out snacks, or supervise park visits. I try to make sure my kids don’t overstay their welcome elsewhere, and remind them to be courteous – to listen to adults, play nicely, and not hang about when it’s mealtime, but rather, to come home. If they are welcomed to have a snack or play, I remind them to use their manners and say thank you. It’s very simple stuff, but no one ever told me that a layer of thickheaded fatness around their brains means you have to repeat the same message to children for a decade before the message sinks in.
On the whole, it’s been a great summer on the block. The kids have practiced tennis and baseball, done free car washes and lemonade stands, as well as wrote and shot a movie they are still expecting to see streamed on Netflix. It makes me feel confident, secure and happy to know and trust my children are safe and cared for, both inside and outside my home.
But obviously, there are parents out there who are not as trustworthy. In the worst cases, they had children without being prepared for the responsibility or without the will to be a clean, sober or kind parent. In others, they are just disinterested, lazy and/or selfish, and don’t care where their child is, as long as their child isn’t bothering them and even if that means putting other people out. This is not cool - if this is you, smarten up, because maybe you have an easy ride now, but others, including possibly your own children, will end up resenting you. (Cue the ‘Cat’s in the Cradle’ playing in my head).
Going back to the blogger’s example of little Dawson, it might be that he simply doesn’t have other friends, and to him, that woman and her children are a lifeline.
So maybe you bite your tongue when Dawson is over for the fifth time in a day. Maybe you ask Dawson how he’s doing and invite him over when what you really want to do is kick everyone out and watch Ellen. And maybe sometimes you check in with Dawson’s mom/dad to ask how they’re doing, to check if they are OK.
It’s tough work. No one said that parenthood was easy. And no one said you would have to parent other people’s children. That said, it does take a village to raise a child. It takes family. It takes amazing and supportive foster parents. It takes daycare and dayhome providers and teachers. And sometimes it takes good neighbours and friends to make sure no child gets left behind.
