This may seem like a downer of a post, but there is a lot that kids deal with that is overlooked in hindsight. Kidshealth.org listed some of the problems kids face HERE. Something I know impacted me personally was the burden of worry. (Kidshealth.org on this topic HERE) By no means did my home conditions provoke worry, quite the contrary- I come from a very loving and supportive family. By nature, whether I am 5 or 65, I am a worry wart. A memory of mine...
I am in sixth grade, standing in line at the airport to put my shoes on the conveyer belt for scanning. My mom and school group got ahead of me in line. Never before had I been to an airport- let alone the second busiest in the world, O'Hare. The lie seemed to stretch three miles between my mom and me. My face turned red and the tears weighed on my bottom eyelids.
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| O'Hare is scary when you're only 4 1/2 feet tall! |
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| On the Mediterranean in 2006- after successfully navigating customs. |
Obviously, I am still here- so my mom and I were reunited! That does not undo the fear I felt at that time. The fact that this memory is strong in my memory shows that I have been blessed. Huck Finn- he's not so lucky. His father, as depicted on page 18, wants nothing but to keep Huck in his supposed place: "if I catch you around that school I'll tan you good." Huck had it rough- a fifth grade (about) education, a drunken and abusive father, and a below
poverty level lifestyle. My experience was still scary.
If you had the boogie man living under your bed, or got stung by a bee, that still stinks. Huck may have had it worst, but that doesn't mean one situation should be belittled. Life encompasses childhood, adulthood, tears, and laughs. Best of luck to Huck in the rest of the book! His childhood is NOT all fun and games.
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| Only seemingly carefree. |
First of all, I love your title Glenna! I rarely read anything that witty!
ReplyDeleteSecondly, I completely agree with your point that childhood is portrayed more positively than it may have actually been. I, too, am guilty of making that assertion.
I remember having an unbelievable amount of free time when I was younger, and using all that time to read an uncountable amount of books. However, yesterday, I saw my little sister, Shylee, who is aged 6, who has just begun to read chapter books (Fancy Nancy and the like). She is having so much trouble reading that doing homework every with her every night is like World War III. One of the myths we learned about in class the other day was that childhood is the same for everyone. By comparing my experiences with Shylee's, I see that even though we are growing up and did grow up in the same household, our experiences our unimaginably different.