I took 4 of my kids up an embankment in the woods last year. We were out on a nature walk, looking for cool rocks, fiddleheads and whatever caught our eye. It started out mild enough. Looking at topo maps it was about 100 vertical feet per 200 horizontal feet at first. But it gradually got steeper and by about half way up I had to climb behind the younger ones with my hand on their back to keep them from slipping down.
at the top we could see that it ended in a sheer cliff about 15 feet tall. I knew that at the top of the cliff was a beautiful wild flower meadow because I had been up there via another route earlier in the year.
We thought we saw a crack in the cliff that would allow us to shimmy up and make the top so even though it was getting very steep (about 50-60 degree slope) we pushed on.
The crack was too narrow though and when we turned around to go back down I saw how crazy we were to have gone that far. I had the two oldest grab my shoulders, sat the 5 year old behind me straddling my waist and put the youngest between my legs and slid down on my butt.
the slide down was exhilarating and we vowed to return when everyone was a little older and more capable.
I was genuinely scared for a brief moment when we turned around at the top but I couldn't let my children know that and we all learned something about our physical limits that day.
I think often about what to let my kids experience and what to protect them from. I would rather let them explore their boundaries and get hurt when they are young and I'm around to take care of them than for them to grow up afraid of everything or even worse, not afraid of anything.
Darn steep to be sure! However vertical faces typically result in the topo lines merging together to the point they cannot be distinguished and become one brown blur.
Your parent comment's map looks like 500+ feet of vertical, so I'm fairly impressed by the 5 year old :)
If it's a standard USGS topo map, his track should be about 150 meters or 500 feet, putting them right at 45 degrees (shallower at the start, steeper at the end)
What a witty, well-written story in the spirit of 50 Dangerous Things (You Should Let Your Children Do), albeit with a father-push rather than a child-pull twist.
His description of how he'd be safe from the alligator following his father's command to enter the water was hilarious:
Immediately, I formulated a plan, which involved surrounding myself with a
protective cloud of urine.
And then later, with his own daughters:
"If one of you gets eaten, we will name the boat after you," I said.
"He'd started calling me "Fat-Tart" because he thought I was fat, which I was, owing to a glandular disorder that made me eat Pop-Tarts until I stopped feeling sad."
As a non-English native I didn't understand: Were there alligators in the river? Were the kids afraid of their own imagination? Is there a double meaning to the word "gator"? Thank you
There _were_ alligators in the river. He almost certainly imagined the gator next to him in the water, but swimming in it was still very dangerous. Gator has only one meaning.
The protective cloud of pee is just a joke. It's funny because pee is useless to protect you from alligators. It's also funny because peeing yourself is funny.
There were definitely alligators. I doubt the author was trying to say they were afraid of their own imaginations. It's possible that he imagined the alligator that was next to him in the water, but it's equally possible that he wasn't.
I feel like this is the sort of thing that would be amazing and fulfilling unless something ends up going wrong and you spend the rest of your life dealing with crushing guilt.
The idea of having kids is terrifying, because there would be part of me that wants to give them expanding and amazing experiences like this and part of me that wants to protect them from anything terrible happening. I feel like the only winning move is not to play.
People sometimes don't understand why I say I am glad my daughter snapped her collarbone. It is not that I want my children to ever get hurt. It is that, as a parent, I've now been through it. I've had a child break. And she healed. So now I take my kids out every weekend into the wilderness, knowing that we might not come back unscathed, but we will come back, and their lives (and mine) are better for it.
1) I am actually very safety-conscious. I have been solo hiking in the mountains and deserts for over 20 years. I know how to be safe, and how to keep my kids safe.
2) I guess in all honesty, I don't know we will be safe. But you cannot let fear drive your life, or else you will not live it.
I'd like to hear from the folks downvoting this comment. Is it parents who think I'm talking rubbish (I may very well be; I was just describing how I felt, not what I thought was objectively true)? People who thought I was criticizing the article?
I didn't downvote and it's not gray now. But I want to chime in that you aren't the only one with this fear, and it doesn't help that I know a 2-year-old who died in a canoeing accident, wearing a life-vest and with responsible adults. The canoe capsized and she got stuck in some branches and they couldn't find her in time. Every day our own mortality lurks around the edges of our own lives, but we manage to ignore it most of the time. When we feel responsible for someone else's life, though, it feels different.
this is the sort of thing that would be amazing and fulfilling unless something ends up going wrong
My own childhood experiences shaped my paranoia: riding on the rooftops of 4WDs speeding along unpopulated beaches or through hilly scrub. Swimming in water shared by sharks, sea snakes, crocodiles and box jellyfish. Poking scorpions and giant centipedes with sticks - trapping them in jars, cooking them alive with a magnifying glass. Making things go bang or set on fire, e.g. wasp nests, based on what we could find in the shed after my chemistry sets were depleted of useful materials. Many close calls, several burns, bites and stitches. Thankfully no broken bones or hospital visits.
Not the same story for several of my friends and relatives unfortunately. It comes down to luck and the wits of the people around you. That said it's not an all-or-nothing decision to let your kids explore the world.
This is wonderful writing. I went to the University of Florida. Its recreational lake[1] (where students canoe, water ski, swim, etc) is infested with gators (the reptile kind, not the students, though there are lots of them too). No matter how many times I was told no students had ever been attacked there[2], swimming in that lake was still nerve-wracking.
Fellow Floridian and UF grad here - the gators are scary but honestly I won't swim in any lake in Florida due to the vast variety of amoebas, bacteria and waste. The gators are just a quick visual cue that you really shouldn't do it.
There are three kinds of water in Florida. A body of water here has either chlorine, salt, or gators in it. If you don't find the first two in it, it has the third.
I'd bet you find chlorine and gators together every now and then, at least briefly. Where I grew up in NC, gators were pretty common, and it was not unheard of for one to crawl up in somebody's back yard, locate their swimming pool, and take residence there.
They also liked to sunbathe on the asphalt road surface in the summertime, especially down near Boiling Spring Lakes. I was a 911 dispatcher for a while, and we got more than a few calls reporting a gator lying in the road, blocking Highway 133 near BSL. Good times...
My friends would go to central/north florida to canoe a river and get drunk. If they saw a gator they'd dive in and chase after it. None of the gators stayed to find out what the crazy loud pink monkeys wanted with them.
The olde times when kids were allowed to have childhood ... I think we see once again effect of the hallowing of the middle here - you are either cuddled and overprotected or have to mature too fast and too rough. No middle ground.
My dad tried to kill me with recoil of double barrel 12 gauge shotgun when I was 5. He had to hold my whole body not to fall from the kick ...
Years ago I worked with someone whose father hunted/poached alligators in the south for a living. My friend was made to go into the water to retrieve the gators. I heard this story often enough that I 100% believe it. (My version of this: my Dad had me every month clean the bottom of his large sailboat in San Francisco Bay when I was a kid. The water was really cold, but no alligators :-) And, I got SCUBA gear for doing the boat cleaning.)
When I was about 6, we would drive from New Orleans to the Pearl River to go water skiing (or in my case, tubing). There are a handful of stories that get told of my dad keeping one eye on us kids and one eye on the gator on the banks in that river.
This story brought a smile to my face.
As an Australian, I'm a little horrified because although we don't have alligators, we have crocodiles. And both are extremely territorial, aggressive carnivores. We lose at least one person a year from attacks - this story could have been far less amusing. And remember, we don't have Steve Irwin to wrestle the bastards any more.
I refer you to Crocodile attack in Australia: an analysis of its incidence and review of the pathology and management of crocodilian attacks in general. [1]
Mine used to teach me chemistry and physics by doing things like putting lighter fluid in my hand, lighting it and then saying go show your mom. If even a tenth of the things we did as kids was done today I have to think CPS would be involved.
In the world I grew up in, I had to be home before the street lights came on. I had to "check in" periodically, but otherwise, lived an unfettered lifestyle. I was free to roam, and roam I did. My friends and I had a tree fort we'd built in the woods, pieced together from scrap wood we'd found, complete with a tire swing.
We swam in the streams, we biked full speed through wooded trails fraught with potholes, tree roots, fallen branches.
We scoured the neighborhood in larger and larger radii, exploring til we found danger, excitement, or boredom.
My daughter doesn't live in this world, and may never know it. My daughter lives in a world where Child Protective Services can pick her up for being seen without a parent. My daughter lives in a world where she can be detained for walking to her grandmother's house alone. My daughter lives in a world where building a tree fort could be construed as cause for arrest.
Maybe it's for the better. Maybe we should place safety above all else in our children's lives. Maybe our parents should all have been removed, and each of us would have been better cared for as wards of the state. I honestly don't know, but I know that in exploration, curiosity was fostered. I know that in roaming, I learned how to be self-sustaining; or at least as self-sustaining as a child can be expected to be.
I think we should be safe but I do think we should let people explore. It's crazy to think what I did just 20 years ago is now something people would be frightened of(run off and play with friends). I didn't have play dates I didn't have boundaries, I had parents who gave me morals and let me guide myself. I had adventures with friends I will never forget, I had games where we ruled until we went home. If someone got hurt(and it did) we got an adult, it was a simple concept.
I have kids now and while they aren't as old as I was when I started roaming the neighborhood it saddens me that I'm frightened to let them. Not because I'm worried someone will harm them and/or kidnap them, but because I'm worried someone will call the cops and CPS will come. That I will have a blip on a piece of paper(or electronic file these days) and that it could lead to court orders and in an extreme my kid taken away if only for a little while.
I know that the police have to do their job and if someone reports a kid wonder around they should respond. I just wish that they weren't forced to call CPS in every instance(they are required any time a minor is involved here), like they aren't capable of assessing a situation.
We live in a different world, but I don't believe it is any less safe than it was 20 years ago.
How often does it really happen that CPS or the police are involved when a kid walks alone to grandma's or builds a tree-house? These are rare, shocking cases that get into the news and are discussed on the internet.
Please be careful to not fall into the fear trap. Safety-nuts are afraid about rare "worst case" scenarios where a child is harmed. And then safety-nut-critics get themselves scared about rare cases where CPS or police are called a child playing alone.
I do, and I agree, that it is statistically very rare indeed. Living in Maryland (where we've seen much of these CPS shenanigans taking place) perhaps invokes my lizard brain paranoia even more, but just as I have coerced my daughter into the ocean because it is statistically safe, I have also coerced myself into letting her play, unattended, because while my irrational brain tells me that CPS is a potential threat, I have no problems forcing my rational brain to make decisions in spite of it.
Big difference between letting kids be free to do things and not coddling them vs. using authority to push them to do things they are uncomfortable with or afraid of.
Perhaps, but at the same time, it falls incumbent upon the parent to push kids into doing things they aren't comfortable with.
The incidents in the story, really, aren't much different from a parent pushing their kids off on their first bike ride with no training wheels. Are they going to fall? Maybe. Are they going to die? Definitely not.
Kids often have overblown senses of danger. Did the river have alligators? Maybe, maybe not (I checked though, it does), but kids are often imagining dangers that aren't there. Old Lady Crenshaw isn't really a witch, and her house isn't really haunted, and Old Man Cratchett isn't likely to shoot trespassing children on sight.
My family frequently goes to Hawaii, and while it literally took weeks to convince my child that yeah, there are sharks in the ocean, but it's still safer than the car ride TO the beach. I don't feel even slightly guilty for trading out her fear of sharks for the wonderment that is the ocean. We discussed how to deal with sharks, what to do if we encounter one, blah blah blah, but at least to me, "avoiding the whole ocean forever" was not a valid way to deal with that fear.
I think that I'm deferring to the judgement of the father, and not the unreliable narrator, who expressly confesses that there might not have been any alligators around whatsoever.
Regardless, even though you quoted out of context, it's perhaps worth backpeddling a bit, because even though I stated that they're definitely not going to die while riding a bike, even that is an overstatement. It's clearly not impossible to die on one's maiden bike ride, though it is still very, very unlikely.
It was, but more importantly, a kid riding their bike for the first time without training wheels can be a terrifying experience, because their brains (as well as ours) aren't very good at risk assessment.
Pushing a kid on a bike without training wheels for the first time could very easily be interpreted as attempted murder by a precocious child. That doesn't mean that their fears are rational. Swimming in a river has a non-zero chance of alligator attack, statistically, alligator attacks are very, very rare, and you're far more likely to die of regular old drowning than by alligator.
Do you not believe that showing kids that the things they're afraid of aren't that bad is detrimental? I mean I was afraid of sleeping in my room, my parents forced me to, is that a bad thing?
I'm trying to determine exactly what he thinks. While I do feel like there are cases where parents can abuse their power to make kids do dangerous things that they should not do, I do not think forcing kids to do things that -- with their limited experience -- they think are dangerous is a bad thing.
Even assuming his fears as a kid were blown up, they are still real and the dad's attitude towards them is extremely cavalier. I had similar fears as a kid, and I grew out of them. Being pushed never did anything to alleviate those fears and caused me a tremendous amount of pain at the time.
I obviously don't know your story or any of the specifics but it might be worth taking a second look at whether or not being pushed while you were scared helped you eventually outgrow those fears.
Just like the way fishing stories become more embellished over time and retelling, I think the author recalls fondly experiences that he remembered as being dangerous (but in reality may not have been) that left a positive impact on the way he approaches life.
I also think we as a society have become too protective of children. The ones that are protected from everything that could possibly hurt them usually grow up not having the curiosity and gall to put themselves in uncomfortable and potentially dangerous situations.
Yeah, making your kids dive into an alligator-filled body of water? How does any sane person not see that as deplorable? Would it be equally character-building to make them run across a freeway to find a dropped pair of sunglasses? What's wrong with everyone in this thread? Did they not read that part?
There had been a grand total of 4 fatal alligator attacks in the USA in the 1980's. It seems to me that the father probably realized that there wasn't actually much danger involved for his boys.
And I think your proposed scenario
> Would it be equally character-building to make them run across a freeway to find a dropped pair of sunglasses?
Maybe most people have the intuition to avoid alligators, and much more people are around roadways than alligator areas. Either way it doesn't mean it isn't foolishy dangerous to get close to wild alligators.
> Either way it doesn't mean it isn't foolishy dangerous to get close to wild alligators.
You're absolutely right. But what is "close?" An alligator swimming right alongside the boat? Sure, that's definitely too close. But what about an alligator on the riverbank, 100 yards away? Is that still too close? How about half a mile downstream? Again, I've never lived near gators, so I don't have an intuition on what is and is not a dangerous situation.
Additionally, I feel like you're forgetting that oft-repeated (and generally true!) maxim: "They're more afraid of you than you are of them."
Maybe the father in the story was being outrageously irresponsible. My gut tells me (and the story seems to intimate) that he knew what he was doing. That is, he probably intuited that the situation was low-risk.
To use a different dangerous animal, people have been killed by grizzly bears, yet tens of hundreds of thousands of folks annually camp out in the backcountry. Are they being irresponsible, just because their is a risk involved?
I have been to the Okefenokee, and canoed and camped there. The gators are intimidating, but they really never did seem aggressive at all. They're literally all over, and at the visitor center area they can be quite close to the tourists, with no barriers. I was a lot more worried about snakes, really.
Having said all that, I wouldn't put a kid in the water near one I could see. Why risk it? Rumored giant catfish, though, sure, why not? ;-)
Most of them won't let their kids out of the house alone because of "stranger danger", but put them in charge of giant crude oil or passenger trains and they are sure to fuck up spectacularly on a regular basis.
at the top we could see that it ended in a sheer cliff about 15 feet tall. I knew that at the top of the cliff was a beautiful wild flower meadow because I had been up there via another route earlier in the year.
We thought we saw a crack in the cliff that would allow us to shimmy up and make the top so even though it was getting very steep (about 50-60 degree slope) we pushed on.
The crack was too narrow though and when we turned around to go back down I saw how crazy we were to have gone that far. I had the two oldest grab my shoulders, sat the 5 year old behind me straddling my waist and put the youngest between my legs and slid down on my butt.
the slide down was exhilarating and we vowed to return when everyone was a little older and more capable.
I was genuinely scared for a brief moment when we turned around at the top but I couldn't let my children know that and we all learned something about our physical limits that day.
I think often about what to let my kids experience and what to protect them from. I would rather let them explore their boundaries and get hurt when they are young and I'm around to take care of them than for them to grow up afraid of everything or even worse, not afraid of anything.
edit: found a map of the area[0]
[0] http://imgur.com/NvNXv2g