What Do Our Children Need?
January-February 1989By Robert Coles
I kept reading in 1988 that childrens issues are newly important politically, that in certain respects America has no reason to be proud when the lives of our children are compared to the lives of children who live elsewhere the infant mortality rate, for instance. We regard ourselves as the worlds richest and strongest nation, yet by the millions our children dont fare well. Some, born into poverty and ignorance, dont eat well; they live in an unsafe world of rat-infested buildings, neither well heated in the winter nor well ventilated in the summer. Many such children dont get adequate (or any) medical care, and the schools they attend arent comparable to those in well-to-do suburbs. Such boys and girls have a lot going against them, and it is right that some of us who know of their fate speak up loud and clear on their behalf.
Other American children are also in trouble, some of them born to parents who proudly call themselves middle class, even upper-middle class. Many young American children, even infants, see very little of their parents, week after week. They are taken to neighbors or relatives, or they go to day-care centers, a large percentage of which (by the criteria established by local, state, or federal agencies) are inadequate. That is to say, quite young children spend their days in woefully crowded, understaffed programs. I have visited a number of them in various parts of the country, and I can only agree with the words of one mother who described her daughters situation (and her own) this way: I cant not work. Ive got to work. My husband lost his job. He cant get another one [they live in a Midwestern, so-called rustbelt community] and if were not to live on welfare, Ive got to bring in dough, because its easier for me than him to find a job. Hes got a temporary job, but hes working for peanuts. It kills me to take those [two] kids to day-care. [They are one and four years old.] I take one look at the numbers [of children and staff] and I know the score; I take a look at the room, and the stuff in it, and I know the score double a loser. I pay them big bucks, and what I get is someone to be there with my kids. I cant leave them alone, can I! Its lousy for the kids and for me and their father. We hate it, and the kids do. And were supposed to be lucky because we have day-care. My mother had a stroke or shed be with my kids. She sits there in bed and curses her illness. She says theres something wrong in America that little kids, infants even, arent with their families all day, most of the week. She and my dad their families were dirt-poor during the Depression, but the kids in those families, the babies, they had someone at home to take care of them. Its different now; its no good.
I bring this womans thoughts to this column because I believe she senses in her heart and mind what her own young children, never mind so many others, are distinctly lacking: a daily family life that lasts more than a few minutes here and there. She once told me this: Im with my kids a half hour in the morning, and an hour or two at night. Essentially she gets them up, delivers them to others and at night picks them up, brings them home, scurries to prepare supper, her husband helping her cook and clean up, and then puts the children (who are, she says, utterly exhausted when they come home) to bed. Yet, our current national discourse has us emphasizing the matter of day-care in such a way that the family concerns of mothers and fathers like this woman and her husband are not part of the discussion. He, by the way, would gladly not work at all, would stay home with his young children; but again, they are proud, so-called working-class people who want to do the best we can, they tell me meaning, stay off welfare, at all costs, make as much money as possible, so that life can be as comfortable as possible (not especially unusual aims for millions and millions of us Americans). For trying to do so, these parents feel their children are in some jeopardy, and then I am asked for my opinion.
Often, I hesitate and mumble and try to change the subject, I have to admit. I am getting old, I tell myself, and what I took for granted others simply dont have to offer their children: a mother who was with my brother and me until we were solidly in school, and who was also at home when we came back from school, and a wife who similarly has been with our children in such a way. Moreover, my dad was constantly moving things around in his life so that he could be with us a lot. Ive tried to follow suit. My parents divided up all sorts of chores and responsibilities, and they loved not only each other, but their joint obligations as parents. They were lucky, yes; they were not poor, and had some control over their lives, and I guess the same goes for my wife and me. Yet, I have to say that my father did turn down several very important job possibilities because he didnt want to move and have us leave a world we knew well as growing children, and my mother encouraged those decisions. I think their example has very much informed my life and that of my wife.
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