Kylie Orr
Word of the week: exculpate;?ek-skuhl-peyt; (verb)
Meaning: to clear from a charge of guilt or fault; free from blame; vindicate.
We recently had a new neighbour move in next door. He didn't come and introduce himself, but does anyone anymore? We were equally indifferent, failing to drop round the home baked biscuits and dinner invitation. An older guy, I'd say in his 50s and seemingly harmless; he gave us a wave now and again as we pulled out of our driveway and we did the same when we passed him in the street. Neighbourly but not overly familiar. Just the way I like it.
It was our five-year old son who struck up a friendship with the new neighbour. His name is Peter, I was informed. He speaks German. He has chickens and lets them out once a day. I was a little sceptical about our son having this over-the-fence daily chat with 'Peter', particularly since the boy is quite shy and extracting a 'hi' out of him for people he knows is like pulling a tooth out through his pooper valve. To see him running to the fence at the sight of Peter's car arriving in his driveway had me feeling uneasy.
Prior to Peter's arrival, I would often send (banish?) our boys outside to play and had always regarded the backyard as a safe haven. When I say 'safe', I use the word very loosely - it is safe as long as the stray building material left around by my DIY-loving hubby could be overlooked, and the fact that we live on the side of a cliff face, and of course all the potential injuries from tree-climbing and bike riding and rock-surfing and superhero-flying were ignored.
Once I knew there was an older, single man living over the fence who was quite happy to have a chat to my son on a daily basis, well I became suspicious. I felt I should show more of a presence in the backyard to ensure the protection of our children, albeit subtle. Like some crazy army commando, I 'hid' in the cubby one day - I had been playing with the boys and they heard Peter pull up next door so rushed out of the cubby to greet him. I stayed inside the cubby and decided to eavesdrop, knowing Peter was unaware I was there.
As expected, my suspicions of anything being slightly awry were entirely unsubstantiated. There was no wheedling undertone. No indecent conversation and certainly no ulterior motive. I was completely and utterly ashamed of myself.
What had the man done? Waved politely and listened patiently as our son told him all about his days as a new school boy. It should have come as no surprise the man was perfectly pleasant and unremarkable in any shoddiness. I exculpated him. After introducing myself and having a chat, I learnt he did indeed speak German, because he is German. Our son is learning German at school and Peter has been helping him with some words. The conversations never extend beyond the fence line and our son has been made aware of the boundaries - he is not to go into Peter's yard, and definitely not his house unless he asks me first. I think more than anything it is lovely for our son to have a different ear to listen; a confidante as opposed to a parent who may tell him off or correct his manners.
Why would I think twice about a friendly neighbour who is ready with a smile and some encouragement?
Why did I approach Peter with immediate caution when he was simply taking an interest in his neighbour's kids?
Would I have been so wary if the next-door neighbour was an elderly woman?
My father often laments that he would never chat to a young child who didn't know him, unless my mother was present too. He feels uncomfortable being an older man that perhaps his intentions will be questioned. My husband also says that if there was a young child, particularly a girl, who needed help in some way, that he would naturally come to the child's aid but may feel aware of any dubious looks from passers by.
I am not naive. I know there is a seedy world out there. There are people who are disturbed and who prey on young children. It is not nice to contemplate and if I thought too hard about it, I may very well wrap our children in cotton wool and lock them in a box to protect them from it all. Therefore it is imperative we equip our children with the necessary skills and radar to identify when a situation or a person is not trustworthy. Teaching risk assessment to our children is surely a more valuable skill than complete avoidance of strangers. Most strangers are ordinary people like you and me. Most people are sincere and amiable.
I am saddened by the idea that people, men particularly, no longer feel they are able to strike up a conversation with a child whilst waiting for the bus or perusing the veggies at the fruit shop. It disturbs me to think society has become so incredibly paranoid that we almost need to check someone's 'Working with Children' licence before they approach a young child.
Let's be alert not alarmed (oh my God, did I just quote John Howard? Slap my wrist!). Let's loosen the nooses around our kid's necks and allow them to talk to the neighbour, and let's give them the confidence and the ability to decide when a situation is formidable. Let's give people the benefit of the doubt before lurching into a panic attack of impending danger when a man says hello to a young boy. Let's find some balance.
What do you think? Do you let your children speak to strangers? Would you be more likely to let them chat to a woman they didn't know, than a man? Comment on Kylie Orr's blog here.
