Free-Range kids

Christmas and birthdays are not complete in our family until you receive a book from my mother.  Seriously.  If you get a present from my mom I can promise it is a book.  You may get something else too but she gives books to all she loves.  The question is always -- what book?  So this Christmas I ripped the paper off the book and found ...Free-Range kids.  By Lenore Skenazy.

My immediate response was to look at my mother ...

Me: Are you nuts?
Mom: Keep an open mind.
Me: Have you met my child?
Mom: Just read it.
Me: No impulse control.  No thought process.  Flighty.
Mom:  Just ... read ... it.
Me: Fine.

It turns out she gave the book to me, my sister (who has an almost 4 year old) and my cousin (who has a 2 year old and a newborn).  So I read it.  Prepared.  Prepared to disagree with everything she says.  Everything.  Despite the fact that I didn't really know what she had to say.

I actually knew about the book before she gave it to me.  It is written by the woman who lives in New York City and allowed her 9 year old son take the subway home by himself.

Horror!

No really.  I was horrified.  In 3 years I was supposed to be prepared to send my child out into the world?  By herself?  And be okay with it?  I.  Don't.  Think.  So.


But even before I opened the book to read it, it caused an argument in my family.  My mom, my aunt, and I were sitting at my grandmother's table and we began talking about it.  My aunt is a full fledged, proud, helicopter parent.  She is the Queen of helicopter parents.  She knows it.  And she makes no excuses or apologies.  She believes how she raised her kids is the right way.  And the idea of letting your kids have freedom (at any age) seems grossly neglectful to her.  Protect your kids against any possible problem -- is her motto.  She drove her kids to and from the school bus stop until they were in high school - and could drive themselves.  As I watched her get angry (yes ANGRY) at the idea of giving kids any kind of freedom I began to look back at my own childhood.  And discovered -- through memory -- that I was basically a free range kid.  So my aunt is on one side of the argument and my mom is on the other.  And I am realizing that I need to read the book.

But back to that idea of letting a 9 year old take the subway home ... by himself ... in New York City.  First a few facts.  The author lives in NYC...with her son.  Her son is familiar with the city.  Her son is familiar with the subway.  It is not like she took a kid from a farm in Iowa and and plucked him down in the city and told him to figure it out.  There was prep work.

So last night I spent some time online.  On Bing.  Doing a little research.  I looked for my houses as a child.  Yes, there were a lot.  And I looked for my schools as a child.  Yes, there were a lot.  La Mama Loca thinks it is freakish that I can remember every address I lived in all the way back to about 3 years old -- but that is another story.

For part of kindergarten and part of 1st grade I walked to school.  According to Bing my route was 1.1 miles.  One way.  I walked it.  Unsupervised.  Everyday.  Before you gasp and think of what terrible parents I had... During this time I was in the custody of the state.  I lived in a group home.  The state approved of this practice.  My sister and 2 other girls who lived in the group home all walked to school.  We were all no older than 7 years old.  At the time we lived in a medium sized city. 

For 2nd grade we lived in the middle of nowhere (with my new adoptive family) so we (my sister and I) took a bus to school.  Although, we did have a driveway that was 3/4 of a mile long.  We walked to the end of the driveway every day.  Unsupervised.  Unless you count the 150 pound Newfoundland dog as a supervisor.

For 3rd grade we moved in town.  A medium sized town.  I walked to school.  By myself usually.  My sister walked with her friends.  It was .7 mile, one way.  Apparently I was late everyday.  I never knew this.  But my father's office was right next to my school and his office had a window the faced the street I walked down.  He watched me every day.  Lallygagging my way to school.

For 4th grade we moved back to that medium sized city I mentioned earlier.  And ended back in the same school.  Only I lived a little closer.  So my walk was now .4 mile.  Apparently I got better at being on time to school. 

For 5th and 6th grades we moved to another small town (702 people).  I walked to school again.  This time it was a .6 mile one way.  Then for 7th and 8th grade (same town and same house) I walked .8 mile to the middle school. 

For 9th through 12th grade we moved to another small town and I had to take a school bus (50 minute ride) to get to school. 

So I think it is safe to say that perhaps, just perhaps, I was a free range kid from kindergarten through 8th grade.  So maybe I need to read the book -- before I switch sides completely and become a helicopter parent.

I read it...but there will be many more posts to cover the book.  But just let me say, agree or disagree, I think it is a "must read" for every parent.

Mean Mama