It is difficult to determine the effects that casual, yet socially necessary, interactions can have on people — especially they of the young, impressionable variety.
Take the young girl who on collecting money for the Salvation Army was confronted by a man who had in one hand a pair of shorts and in the other a look of total distaste. "Sorry," responded the man, "I've haven't got any change and I'm not wearing any pants."
The girl, too young to understand just how offensive the promise of her youth can be to others, is now scarred for life; she hates God, men and the Salvation Army.
It was too risky a task, forced upon one far too vulnerable and far too unwilling.
Contrast this to another young child, just now escaping the ravages of puberty, who, on scoring a paltry 'B' in mathematics, has had his computer destroyed by his father and his life threatened by his mother. Apparently, until the mind is so full of state sanitised information that it has no other recourse but to force it out of the ears, there is no place for mindless entertainment.
Summarily dismissing the protests of the child can be dangerous; they could seek counsel from the less-than-desirables that frequent most suburbs and cities. It is during these crucial times that most rebellious slogans are dreamt up and bandied about — how, and to whom, the word "fxxk" should be directed.
Whether the safety valve comes in the form of detachment or defiance is irrelevant because, more often than not, whether the vein is tapped or sliced, another child is lost.
Written on Tuesday, 27 May 2003