Growing Up Is Hard To Do

Growing up in the 50’s and 60’s had to have been a great deal easier than it is today. That’s not to say that it was easy. We had the same decisions to make about future, relationships, doing "the right thing" or not, education, higher education, and so forth that kids have today. The difference is in the clarity of vision that we had then. Life was simpler, by far. Kids were brought up, for the most part, with certain values, and these were well-known to all. We were expected to adhere to them or, if we didn’t, to have a damned good reason for not having done so.

We didn’t blaspheme, for example, and were extremely careful about using vulgarity. Even among kids, it was accepted that people of quality didn’t use certain words, and if you wanted to vent a "God damn!" or two, you were careful about where you did it. There were two reasons for this: we truly did believe that it was unacceptable in most situations, and we knew that it would offend people--people whom we wanted to think well of us. Those of us who were non- or irreligious kept quiet about it, not because we were worried about being ostracised (though that could happen in some cases), but because we didn’t want to upset others, whether family or otherwise. Some of this was enlightened self-interest, but a lot of it was an understanding of--and belief in--the adage that, "A gentleman is one who never unnecessarily causes another person discomfort."

You didn’t lie, or at least you didn’t get caught. The value of a person’s word was considered one of the most important things about them. People might associate with a known liar, but they certainly held him or her in low esteem. In my youth people still believed that a handshake was as binding as a contract. You didn’t make promises that you didn’t think you could keep. If you couldn’t keep them, you owned up to it and did what you could to fix things. And theft? A known thief might just as well have moved out of town. People might do business with them--cautiously--but had to be careful, lest they be "tarred with the same brush." Honesty was not only the best policy; socially, it was the only policy.

People were sexually low-key. That’s not to say that they didn’t go around making the creature with two backs, happily and as often as possible, but they were discreet about it. This was a matter of good taste and manners, but also of reputation and good sense. In those times, people who cohabited had better have been either single or uncaught, and being single and caught was fraught with peril as well. The shotgun wedding was not limited to pregnancies, and was not--in our neck of the woods--far, historically, from being more than a figure of speech. If you did the deed, you were expected to live up to the attendant obligations. Married women "ran off" with other men, but they committed adultery, if at home, with extreme caution. This was possible because gentlemen didn’t tell. They had reputation and position to lose, too. Divorce was extremely uncommon, and both parties suffered the results for a long time. Rarely did people divorce if there were children. In such cases the man sometimes simply left town (or, in extremely rare cases, a wife would abscond), but to abandon responsibilities and remain in the same vicinity was extraordinarily uncommon.

A young man was expected to get an education. Young women, too, although it was considered secondary to learning to be a good wife and mother. We learned about work and such things by doing it after school and during the summer. Summer jobs were de rigueur. A well-to-do kid might work as an assistant tennis instructor at the country club, or for his father doing something in the family business, but everyone worked. As a result, we learned what it meant to have responsibilities and live up to them. At some point in his or her early 20’s, young men and women were expected to marry and have families. The duties of a husband were to work hard and pay for his family’s way and for the education of the children. The wife’s job was a lot more extensive: to raise the kids, keep house, do public service via ladies clubs or church organizations and generally be a paragon of virtue. Not an easy task, but with a blueprint that was very clear.

Now I don’t for a single minute claim that these were the "good old days." Quite the contrary: in many respects, they were almost the dark ages. Nonetheless, the rules were pretty simple. Everyone knew the roles they would be expected to play, and the route necessary to reach that position and live up to it.

Contrast that with today. Nuclear families are the exception. Multi-generational families, which did so much to further values and keep people together in the same neighborhoods, are practically unheard of in most parts of the country. The average family moves to an entirely different community at least once during the childhood and adolescence of the children, and often four or five times. Working moms, essential to survival, aren’t able to keep an eye on latchkey kids, who resort to TV, computers or their peers as a source of the lore of living that the family formerly provided. I could go on and on, but no one reading this is unaware of the contrasts between the circumstances I discussed previously and the reality of life today.

So I feel sorry for the kids--all of them, from all walks of life. Some of them have it much harder than others, but none of them, I think, are able to begin their journeys through life with the road maps and guideposts that my generation enjoyed. I wonder, sometimes, that they seem to cope as well as they do, and I wonder what we can do to help. Giving lip service to family values isn’t the answer. The people in a position to espouse them are not the ones who need the help. No Child Left Behind is a joke, and doesn’t address the issues of guidance. We can rail endlessly about single-parent families and the demise of the nuclear family, but it does nothing but muddy the waters. Things are as they are. Thus.

I think the only answer is to be found at the grassroots level. Big Brothers and Big Sisters are starts. Mentoring programs are starts. Any kind of outreach to kids is a start. If we don’t do it, it’s damn-well certain no one else will.