“It takes a village to raise a child.” Or something like that.
As a child, I was part of a village. An amazing village. My family lived in a quiet little neighborhood with dead-end streets, where kids had free range and parents helped each other out. When I think of my childhood, I remember all of the neighborhood picnics, the Christmas caroling, bonfires etc… I remember being dropped off at a good friend’s house in the middle of the night because my parent’s had to take my older brother to the hospital with pneumonia. I remember rope swings, creek walking and sleep overs. But, most of all, I remember feeling loved. These people, these friends, they were my village. To this day, I still count them as family. And while I no longer live within walking distance to any of them, I know they continue to be there for me even into adulthood. I could call any one of them at any time and they would be there for me to the best of their ability. But, it was also about more than me, as the kid. These people were, and continue to be a village to my parents. Friends who they could count on in times of crisis, go on road-trips with, laugh with, drink with, cry with, trade babysitting with… you get the point.
I always just assumed that as I grew up and had kids of my own, that I would have something similar for me and my children. But, for whatever reason, in this day and age… it is harder and harder to find a village.
I live on a great street with a double cul-de-sac. When we moved in, I was thrilled to learn that there were other kids on the street, who are around the age of my children. I envisioned days of sitting outside, drinking a beer together, while our children rode bikes up and down the street. Of having kids ringing my doorbell to see if they could come in and play or if mine could come out. I envisioned, friendships and support. And in fact the “older” generation (who are now parents of teenagers) seem to have that. They are all really great friends and their teenage kids get along as well. But it just doesn’t seem to be the same for the younger ones.
Don’t get me wrong, we chat and say hi. My kids have gone out to ride bikes with theirs, but it’s not a village. Maybe this is because schedules are busier than they were in generations past or because more Moms work. Maybe it’s because technology is more prevalent in everyone’s lives. Maybe it is something else entirely. Whatever the reason, it just isn’t as easy to build your village these days.
I do have some amazing friends who technically fit the description I use of the village I grew up in . In fact, one of them was a child of that village as well. But, once again things are different in this day and age. A lot of those friends, who would do anything for me should I need it, whose kids are being raised along side my own, don’t live next door or down the street. They live spread out all around Cincinnati, or even sometimes, in other cities. So while I am still blessed to have these people in my life… it doesn’t quite meet the definition of village.
It also seems, in general, as though parents now-a-days keep to themselves and their families more than they used to. People don’t really use official babysitters anymore… it’s grandparents or other family members. And instead of community that just happens naturally, there are planned play dates. While I am outside often with my kids, I can’t say the same for my neighbors. Then when they are, I feel like my kids are bothering the mom down the street when they run down to play with her kids in the driveway. I am really self-conscious about it, because what I still so desperately want for my kids… that amazing support system I grew up in… doesn’t seem to be as important to anyone else, which makes me feel a tad needy and desperate.
I will never give up hoping for my village, but I am starting to resign myself to the fact that what I had growing up just doesn’t exist in the same way today. Maybe it didn’t even really exist then. Maybe I was just lucky.
Do you have a village?
