What Do Our Children Need From Us?
Given by James Covington on May 4th, 2008
In my sermon two weeks ago, I talked about our moral responsibility to nurture and protect the Earth. Today I want to speak about our moral responsibility to nurture and protect our children. In fact, in the Earth Day sermon I asked: And how are the children? How can we not think about the kind of future that we’re creating for the children among us? I would like to expand on that question this morning.
I have been thinking a lot about this topic in recent weeks, primarily because of recent isolated events of violence or potential violence by children in our society. The question in my mind has been, “What do these acts of violence indicate?” I also know that every generation has its own issues of concern about its youth. In my day, youth gangs and Beatniks were the symbols of youth alienation. The hip gyrations of Elvis stunned and outraged parents. You will remember that the Ed Sullivan show refused to televise Elvis’s below-the-waist gyrations when Elvis first appeared on television. So what do we make of the incidents of violence and the rising high school dropout rate of our nation’s children today? I don’t mean to be an alarmist about the state of affairs among our youth, but neither do I want to be in denial.
The first alarming incident I speak of happened two weeks ago and involved a group of eleven children, ages 8 to 10 who apparently were mad at their teacher because she had scolded one of them for standing on a chair. These third graders had made detailed plans to knock the teacher unconscious, bind her with handcuffs, and then murder her with a knife. Of course, no one knows if the students actually understood the seriousness of their intent. Regardless the incident was very disturbing. I would love to read a study of the family backgrounds of each of these children.
The week following this incident, a video appeared on YouTube and MYSpace showing the beating a 16-year-old girl received from several of her peers, all girls, who were angry that the victim has posted “trash talk” about them on her MySpace page. The girl was beaten unconscious and when she awoke, she was beaten even more. She suffered severe injuries. The beating was described by the County Sheriff as animalistic and of a pack mentality. Do these incidents represent a general state of poor impulse control among a youth? I believe these are isolated extreme events. But do they tell us anything we should know about today’s children?
In addition to these stories, two op-ed opinion essays appeared in the New York Times decrying the erosion of America’s educational foundations. Bob Herbert (Clueless in America) informs us that an American kid drops out of high school every 26 seconds. That’s more than a million every year. [1]
There was an equally troubling op-ed essay (A Nation At a Loss) the same week, on the 25th anniversary of a national report in 1983 entitled “A Nation At Risk,” which warned of the deteriorating educational system in our country. According to the op ed essay, not only has our educational system not improved, it has gotten worse. One third of our children do not receive even the minimal education required to be functioning citizens and workers in a global community. [2]
Now add to this list a report in 2003, from the Commission on Children At Risk, a panel of prominent neuroscientists, pediatricians and social scientists who believe that our present generation’s crisis is two fold: We are witnessing high and rising rates of depression, anxiety, attention deficit, conduct disorders, suicidal ideation and other serious emotional problems among U.S. children.
The report goes on to say that while we are using medications and psychotherapies, these are helpful but are not enough. Why? Because they do not address the broad environmental conditions that are contributing to growing numbers of suffering children.
Then the report gives us this insight: “In large measure, what’s causing this crisis in American childhood is a lack of connectedness. Their major thesis is that all humans are hard-wired from birth, to connect. When that connection is disrupted or unnurtured, then social alienation can often result. [3]
(also see:http://www.josh.org/download/HARDWIRED_TO_CONNECT.pdf)
Two kinds of connectedness are identified: close connections to other people and deep connections to moral and spiritual meaning. As a result, this group of scientists and experts on children’s health recommends that our society pay considerably more attention to young people’s moral, spiritual, and religious needs. They in fact argue for the importance of a new social science concept: authoritative communities.
I found this concept very interesting. The panel asserts that authoritative communities have gotten weaker in recent decades, partly due to the increase in divorce and single parent homes, the decline of social institutions, including the church, the breakdown of extended families and the overwhelming influence of popular culture perpetuated by the media. They insist that “authoritative communities, including positive religious involvement, appear to increase social connectedness.”
What are the characteristics of an authoritative community? 1) It is warm and nurturing. Children typically learn to be what they admire. 2) It establishes clear limits and expectations. Close relationships matter, but so do clear rules and expectations. Children need adults to set clear standards and a clear vision of the goals they are to achieve and the people they are to become. 3) It is multi-generational. Children benefit enormously from being around caring people in all stages of the life cycle. 4) It reflects and transmits a shared understanding of what it means to be a good person. The psychologist Jerome Kagan of Harvard University says: “After hunger, a human’s most important need is to know what’s virtuous.
With that bit of hard news, let me now present you with three stories about three children, all of whom are in trouble. One is middle-class, one is working-borderline poverty-class, one is upper class.
I read this story recently in a religious periodical I subscribe to where a minister writes about a horrifying story about his young adult son. It seems that the son is addicted to video games. He’s in his early twenties, and for a couple of years, he had spent all of his time in a virtual world, with virtual people, trying to accomplish virtual feats of honor and glory. He had become grossly obese, and his health was in danger. His parents told him that he could return home on two conditions: (1) that he would look for a job; and (2) that he would give up his computer. For months, he refused–he just could not give up his computer or his games. Now, he’s finally back at home again, and in recovery.
Story number two– these are the words of a twelve-year-old African American girl who had been bused to a previously all-white Boston School,
“I guess I’m doin’ all right… A lot of time, though, I wish I could walk out of that school and find myself a place where there are no whites, no black folk, no people of any kind! I mean, a place where I’d be able to sit still and get my head together; a place where I could walk and walk, and I’d be walking on grass, not cement with glass and garbage around; a place where there’d be the sky and the sun, and then the moon and all those stars. At night, sometimes, when I get to feeling real low, I’ll climb up the stairs to our roof, and I’ll look at the sky, and I’ll say, hello there, you moon and all your babies–stars, I mean! I’m being silly, I know, but up there, I feel I can stop and think about what’s happening to me–it’s the only place I can, the only place.”
A side note: One of every 5 children lives in poverty. For such families, a joyful, satisfying life is a fantasy, a dream. Economic inequity is at the root of so much of our national suffering, and so much of the suffering of our children. You cannot separate the anguish of children from the poverty and suffering of their parents.
And our third storyРthis one is a composite of children I have read about in the N.Y. Times. They are nine-year-olds who have decorators come into their home to discuss the d̩cor of their bedroom. They are first-graders who have birthday parties that cost $25,000. They are middle-school girls who have their own hairdressers, and they insist on having their hair colored and streaked, as mother does.
These children are all deprived, in one way or another. All three are living in a culture whose values are corrupt. The first is connected not to people, but to a machine, his computer; the second is living in a world of concrete and steel and trash and garbage, and the third is being taught a terrible lie: that happiness comes through things and more things, rather than a giving of one’s self. Not one of these children is connected to the natural world, and not one understands the rhythms of nature or their relationship to the earth. And they are all suffering from the economic disparity in this country. Even the wealthy child? Yes, because indulging a child is just as bad as depriving a child, in terms of character development and sense of self.
It stands to reason, does it not, that we must find ways of preparing and equipping our kids for life in a culture that has a profoundly distorted sense of priorities. What does it mean to support children in a culture like ours? What can we do as parents? What can we do as a religious community that loves its children and wants the very best for them?
We do know this: every child, whether space cadet or chatterbox, whether introvert of social butterfly, needs connections, a village. The villages that nurture children in America are almost all gone. We have to create new ones.
A village is what we can create as a congregation. We must be the village for all our children.
As some of you know, when I was a child, I attended my Southern Baptist Sunday School every Sunday. I was one of those who seldom if ever missed a Sunday. As a result, the neighbors, friends, family, and church members praised my dedication. But there were two things about that early experience that stand out for me now: It was a good thing that I was made to attend SS and it was good thing that the community supported that notion and expressed its admiration of my commitment. Furthermore, in spite of the dogmatic aspects of Southern Baptist fundamentalism, I learned about some very important values: I learned about love and compassion, sin and forgiveness, justice and mercy and I learned something about my Self–that I have a purpose for being here and that the goal of my life is to fulfill that purpose. I believed I had a “calling.” I came to believe that life calls us to itself in some special way, not special in the sense that I am better than anyone else, but special in the sense of meaning and purpose. That early experience helped me discover my gifts.
Would I have learned about those values anywhere else? Well, probably, but who knows? In school? Perhaps. But for me, my Sunday School experience provided important connections. It gave form and sustenance to values through connections with people of all ages and through stories—stories of ancient biblical characters, stories of prophets and of course the story of Jesus. One of my earliest memories is my mother reading those stories to me as I sat on her lap. They had a powerful impact on me.
Fortunately and ironically as I grew older–I began to use those very values–love and forgiveness and justice–as I had come to understand them through the stories I had heard, to question the very dogma I had been told to believe, and not only that, to question the cultural biases against African-Americans or anyone considered as different or as “the other.” I came to believe that what really matters is that we should be humane, work for the common good, help those who are victims of poverty and oppression.
Do you know what humane means: It means “characterized by kindness, mercy and compassion.” That’s what really counts in a life, not some dogma about some god or great prophet. God, whatever you perceive her to be, or any prophet, whatever his agenda for justice, is not worth their salt, unless they help us live more humane lives.
What do kids need in their lives? I think they need three things: (1) to feel safe, (2) to feel loved, and (3) to feel hope. Children get these qualities from positive contact with stable, loving adults within families and “authoritative communities.”
So how do children grow up feeling safe and secure? There are some basics. They need to have enough to eat, and that food needs to be healthful. Children need a structured home environment, with parents who have the time and energy to nurture them. They need to be kept away from the excesses of the popular culture–the destructive video games, the constant noise and advertisements and violence of the TV, the electronic gadgets that are such a poor substitute for human warmth, guidance, and companionship.
And then, speaking of hope, the big question that our children and grandchildren and their children will be asking is: are we going to have a viable earth? Right now, we need to begin answering that question hopefully.
If a child needs to feel safe, feel loved and to have hope where else will he or she have those needs met except through the adults in their lives–you and me? How else will they grow and discover and learn the greater meanings of being, if not through us? What better way is there than through our own religious community? This is our great challenge. Indeed it is our calling–to repair the world and teach our children the meanings of being.
In many parts of our nation, our children and youth are at risk. They need us. They need more than just good parents. They need a real community, a loving and caring village. They need a place to develop their spirits, to learn how to serve others, to learn to go deep within themselves, and discover their gifts.
The good news is that we can do this. We are doing a lot of it already. Sonya Lewis and Shahan Islam are doing some wonderful work with our youth. We need to do more. I have been talking recently about creating a “family life ministry program.” So let us rededicate ourselves to being the religious home, the religious village, our children and their families need–not a religion of fanaticism and creeds, but a religion of hope, justice, connection and depth. Together, let us create such a place for all our children. Then let us spread the word, tell other families, straight and gay, black and white, red, or yellow, about our religious village and invite them by the scores to join us.
Let me share with you something from the Masai tradition. The Masai are among the most accomplished tribes of Africa, their people deeply intelligent, their warriors fearsome. It is telling that the traditional greeting passed between Masai warriors is “kasserian ingera,” which means “and how are the children?” This greeting acknowledges the high value that the Masai always place on their children’s well-being. Even warriors with no children of their own always give the traditional answer: “All the children are well,” meaning of course that peace and safety prevail. The young and powerless are being protected. Masai society has not forgotten its reason for being.
I wonder how it might affect our consciousness if in our culture we took to greeting each other with this same question: “And how are the children?” I wonder if we heard that question and passed it along a dozen times a day, if perhaps we would begin to change in how we care for our children. What would it be like if President Bush began every press conference by answering the question, “And how are the children, Mr. President?” What if every governor, every legislator of every state, had to answer the same question with every public appearance? “How are the children?” What would happen if every adult, parent and non-parent alike, felt responsible for our children. I do not mean just our own birth children; I mean all the children; knowing that all the children are our children. I wonder if then we could truly say without any hesitation, “The children are well, yes, all the children are well.” And then, if the children were well, all would be well in our land. So be it. Amen.