Kids (& a poem)
It was said - a very long time ago - that the ‘future of Empires depends on the education of youth’.
And so it is that parents neglect their responsibilities and rely on the schools to bring up their children into responsible and constructive citizens. Not that that means that they actually trust the schools - I am sure that the high levels of stress-related illness in the teaching profession are somehow connected with the lack of respect teachers are accorded for the work they do. It seems that parents recently are becoming more and more critical and demanding more and more from the people who teach their children. Not in itself a bad thing I concede, but I do think there is a wall of negativity to be overcome before education can become anything like as constructive as it is surely supposed to be.
A recent survey reported in one of the major English newspapers has revealed that very young children have a great need for quality time with their fathers. The survey concluded that children who have more contact with their fathers up to the age of 3 tend to have less behavioural and emotional problems as they get older. Funnily enough, a reduction of contact with their mother did not seem to have any detrimental effects. More evidence that the working culture needs to recognize and respond to - men have an important role to play not only in their company, but also in their family.
Children are so sensitive and emotionally-alert that we adults usually fail to notice the offence we cause them. Children can hold grudges for years against older people - we need to be aware of this when we interact with them.
There was an amusing anecdote in the Japan Times recently about a young child who turned to his mother after his father had left in the morning for work and asked, ‘Where does Daddy live?’.
“This be the Verse”
They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another’s throats.
Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.
(by Philip Larkin)
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