Childhood Freedoms

It would seem a strange notion that kids in this city enjoy freedom of movement, rarely experienced by their peers in suburban towns. How, you might wonder, would I arrive at such an observation? I can only compare the life our son had had until his move to the city, a life that is now more mobile for him.

In Los Angeles, our son's first four and a half years were spent with him strapped into a car seat. Bicycles, skooters, skateboards were all toys to be used sporadically in the backyard of our home. Despite living in a cul-de-sac, a round-about that Armenian teens liked to screech around in high speeds, leaving behind skid marks, he was rarely given freedom to use his skooter around the neighborhood. Life in suburbia creates more acute anxieties about child abductions or kids being mowed down by distracted, or worse, drunk drivers. We were lucky enough to live in a neighborhood that felt "safe" enough for kids to be pushed around in their strollers, offering nannies or moms an excuse to gossip and get some fresh air. But even this illusion didn't lessen our hyper-control over our son's movement.

To get anywhere else, school, activities, play dates, was all managed with him in a car seat, being chauffeured around the congested roadways of LA. Therefore, his sense of freedom and mobility was dictated by us or his nanny, again, his world lived entirely within the confines of a car seat.

With our move to the city, all of this has changed. We walk everywhere, using public transport whenever needed, a cab if there is an issue of time or weather. With all of this walking, I've noticed how much freer his life is now, no longer strapped into a car seat. The razor, a vehicle of choice among his classmates, is no longer just a toy, relegated simply to a backyard. But now, it is a way for him to get around the city, on his own terms. "Little Manhattan", a movie about first love among Manhattan kids, clearly illustrates this freedom of movement for kids here. I can't help but notice kids, some as young as eight or nine, getting on and off of the buses, heading home from school. Such an idea would be unheard of in LA or any other suburban town where moms, caretakers, or school buses would be the only acceptable mode of transporting a child from school to home. I'm certain parents here are no less worried about their kids facing dangers. But you manage your parental concerns differently here. I'm certain by eight or nine, our son will be given a five or three block radius where he can move about without the constant watchful eye of either me or my husband. I can see the ties loosening even now. In LA his use of the razor as a way to get around would have been unthinkable. Yet, here we are, me walking briskly behind him as he pushes his skooter up 20th Street to his school.

We're reminded of how much more confining children's lives are in suburbia whenever we visit our extended families, where he is again strapped into his booster seat. Despite the "quiet" streets where both of his grandparents live, he is rarely allowed out to play, again relegated to the backyard as the only option. I'm certain all of this freedom comes at a price where kids become savvy, city-smart, and sophisticated beyond their years. Isn't that the stereotype of kids who grow up in big cities? They've seen it all, done it all, some finally seeking a simpler life in rural or suburban areas when they are given the choice to create their lives. And their suburban and rural peers, desperate to leave behind the quiet, seek freedom and excitement in the big city. I suppose none of this will ever change, therefore our son's desire to move to the woods of Vermont when he is an adult, seeking quiet and freedom to live in a more natural setting, will not come as a complete shock to either me or his dad. We would expect no less.