Safety First!

Most of the time, and in most places, I have felt relatively safe through the years. I credit much of that to my intensely risk-averse personality. It would never occur to me to approach a ledge at the Grand Canyon, jump into a zoo enclosure with a tiger, or even park for two hours and one minute in a two-hour parking zone. Since I began traveling abroad, I came to realize that the United States has SO MANY WARNING SIGNS, everywhere. Sure, it’s most likely due to our very litigious culture, though I like to think it's because Uncle Sam just really loves me lots.   

 

Whereas in other lands, safety measures are largely left to the individual. I’ll never forget being at a waterfall in Costa Rica. The steep cascade of pounding water could definitely break your neck if you stood under it, and sure enough there was a sign, in Spanish. But did it say “Beware of dangerous waterfall?” Nope! It translated as “No kissing.” The real risk was being swept away, not literally, but romantically!  

 

As a mom, I did my darnedest to keep my little ones from harm—though looking back at the primitive car seats, cribs and high chairs of the day, maybe they weren’t quite as safe as I thought they were. We actually never bothered to take the outlet covers and safety cabinet locks off, even though we went 15 years without a small child in the house. We have smoke alarms and carbon monoxide detectors and motion-sensitive lights in the upstairs hallway. The most dangerous activity of my adulthood was wearing stiletto heels during my bipolar manic episodes. Now, I cannot imagine risking a twisted ankle for the sake of fashion, and feel much more grounded wearing flats.    

 

I will leave a discussion of gun safety, and our horrific gun-worshipping culture, for another time and forum (though, you may have gathered, I have intense feelings). I remember when nearly all discussions about safety at school revolved around the dire consequences of “running in the halls.” Mind you, running around on an asphalt playground at recess was considered A-OK, but you picked up your pace heading toward the cafeteria at your peril.   

 

Aiden is now in fifth grade (“senior year” at our elementary school), and the first week of class he received the dayglo yellow belt of the safety patrol. He will proudly perform this sacred duty until the holiday break, and so far he seems to be doing a fine job preventing running in the second grade hallway. That is Peter’s class hallway, so hopefully he won’t push against big bro’s rule enforcement.   

 

I think giving the children a taste of responsibility for other people’s well-being is a fabulous idea. As human family members, we all should be caring for one another, every minute of the day.  Let’s model a world where we each don a symbolic yellow safety patrol belt, and create spaces where we all can thrive, and live in peace.