parentfear

I grew up as a wild child. We lived out in the middle of nowhere and I would disappear - on foot or on my pony - for entire afternoons. I'd explore the roads and pastures and woods and creeks around our farm and neighboring farms. This was an important part of my personal development.

My children live in the city, but I still try as hard as I can to give them opportunities to be alone and to wander and explore, both in nature and in town. My oldest began walking downtown -- or sometimes taking the bus -- to see free concerts and hang out with his friends a few years ago. My youngest son, who is nine, likes to dress in cammo and go play army in the huge forest of kudzu next to our backyard. Although our neighborhood is very urban, we also have a backyard that slopes down to a creek, and I encourage all of the children to go play down there and check out the turtles and the tadpoles and the occasional sandcrane.

But after a high profile kidnapping of a child, like we've had in the U.S. in recent weeks, I find it harder to let them go play outside. I always find it harder to let my 11 year old daughter just go play, because I worry more about her. BUt still, I force myself to let them go. Right now, Elliot is dressed in his fatigues and has packed up an army napsack full of capguns and snacks, and he is out in the "kudzu forest." I can see him from the kitchen window, but just barely. He's a tiny, green speck deep inside the wall of kudzu.

The odds that my child will be snatched are exceptionally low. Of course, to a parent to whom this horror happens, the odds are meaningless. And I am scared sometimes. People ask me if I worry more about their safety because we live in a truly urban neighborhood instead of in the manicured 'burbs or in the country. I don't. I remind myself that the two boys kidnapped in Missouri were snatched up while riding their bikes on remote, rural roads.

I push myself to get past my fear and allow and even encourage the children to go play outside. I think children lose out when they never get to explore beyond manicured, fenced yards. I believe that our children today are losing the ability to learn from their mistakes in navigating their own neighborhoods. When you never encounter muddy slopes or dogs that chase you or sketchy characters, you never learn how to deal with unexpected challenges.

Plus, sometimes children just need to be alone.

But I worry. I think I'll go peek out the window again and make sure I can still see Elliot.