I was a free-range kid, though I didn’t know it at the time. Free-range kids, in case you haven’t kept up, is the term given to kids who are allowed to roam, within reason, out from under the gaze of their hovering parents.
Sounds sort of exotic, doesn’t it? Like free-range, organic chickens. Maybe even artisanal. And certainly rare.
That wasn’t the case when I was growing up, when free-range, in its simplest terms, meant, “Hey, you kids go outside and play.”
And play we did. In the arroyos that criss-crossed our neighborhood and under the mesquite trees that we turned into make-believe forts. And trust me, no one’s mom arranged “play dates.” We made our own.
We walked the seven blocks to school, unaccompanied. We also walked to each other’s houses, sometimes in the dark. Just about every Saturday afternoon we took the bus to downtown, with its beckoning dime stores and movie houses.
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When I was 9 years old, I rode the bus, alone, to Alice Mills School of Dance, not far from where the Rialto Theatre still stands today on East Congress Street. The only trauma, if any, that I experienced from all that came from the teacher who finally broke down and told my mother that I had the grace of a duck.
About that same time, I also rode the bus, alone, to the old Thomas-Davis Clinic downtown for my allergy shots. The only scary thing about that trip was the rickety, caged elevator groaning and heaving its way up to the second floor.
And yes, I was raised by a mother who guided and nurtured me every step of the way. Today, she’d probably get hauled in front of what we once called Child Protective Services for allowing her children (including my two younger brothers) to roam free of any adult accompaniment.
That’s what happened late last year to Maryland couple Alexander and Danielle Meitiv, who allowed their 10-year-old son and 6-year-old daughter to walk a mile home from a park down a busy street on a Saturday afternoon.
Someone noticed the kids and called the cops, who picked up the children and took them home. Hours later, CPS came calling. Meetings were held and threats were even made to take away the children, say the parents, who were recently found responsible for “unsubstantiated” child neglect, which means CPS will keep a file on them for at least the next five years.
Mind you, these parents, according to The Washington Post, say they had been introducing their kids to unaccompanied walks, starting with ones only around the block. They even gave their children laminated cards with parent contact information and the message: “I am not lost. I am a free-range kid.” Good grief.
This case is far from an anomaly. In 2008, Lenore Skenazy allowed her 9-year-old son to take the New York subway home alone, then wrote about it. The ensuing uproar led to a reality show, “World’s Worst Mom,” where Skenazy tries to slow down the blades on helicopter parents.
A few years ago, I also caused a minor ruckus when I wrote about how I’d seen a boy of about 10 riding his bike, alone, in Oro Valley, and what a rarity that was. Outrage flooded my email, including one from a mother who declared she’d never let her son venture past her gate alone.
Yes, I know. Horrible things do happen to little children. Anyone living here in the mid-1980s remembers the case of Vicki Lynne Hoskinson, 8, who in 1984 was abducted and murdered by a stranger. Two years earlier, 7-year-old Cathy Fritz was murdered, her body found not far from where a “Take Back the Night” rally had been held the night before.
And yet, actual stranger abductions of children that lead to murder in America amount to about 50 a year, according to the U.S. Department of Justice. Compare that to the 1,071 children under the age of 16 who were killed in traffic accidents in 2012, according to the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration. Another 173,000 were injured.
Clearly, a romp in the park, minus the parents, is safer than a ride to the park — with the parents.