Whatever Happened to Free?
Knockin’ on Forty
by Seretha D. Williams

Raising my children is driving me into the poor house. Every week some piece of colored paper with wacky clipart begs me for more money. Between snacks for preschool and soccer games, wrapping paper fundraisers, field trips to pumpkin patches and Storyland theater, school pictures and prizes for the good behavior treasure box, I am all tapped out. Slowly but surely, the village that is helping me to raise my children is also nickel-and-diming me into pauper-hood.

At the risk of drowning in the waters of nostalgia, I reflect on my own childhood and ask, “Whatever happened to free?” I remember going to the Museum of Science and Industry and Lincoln Park Zoo for free.

At the risk of drowning in the waters of nostalgia, I reflect on my own childhood and ask, “Whatever happened to free?” I remember going to the Museum of Science and Industry and Lincoln Park Zoo for free. I remember spending all day at Summer Recreation weaving pleather key chains and building Popsicle stick birdhouses for free. I remember playing kickball, roller skating on sidewalks, jumping double-dutch, and dodging kisses from boys in a game of Catch-a-girl-kiss-a-girl. Of course our parents spent a few bucks on equipment and supplies; there were always book rental fees, bike repairs, and crayons, for example. However, in my neighborhood, parents were not paying for cheerleading, bike riding, or arts and craft lessons. Parents were not spending hundreds of dollars on five-year-old birthday parties at Build-a-Bear and Discovery Zone. Parents were not shelling out for kindergarten graduation, elementary school yearbooks, and trophies for Pee Wee Soccer. Now paying is the norm. Now paying is the expectation.   .:read more:.

Just about every activity I want to do with my children costs money. Of course, we can go to the library and play at the park for free. We can go to the local art museum on Sundays for free. We can play board games and watch PBS at home for free. We can even go to the buffet on Mondays when children eat for free. Still, most of the stuff my kids really enjoy has a lofty price tag attached to it. Jumping in the inflatables at Jumping Beans: $5. Watching a movie at the matinee: $6.00. Learning at Adventure Children’s Museum: $6.95. A Saturday when I do not have to spend money: Priceless.
I realize that times change, but I also realize that we parents have sold out our children’s childhood to the highest bidders. We are to blame for the commercialization of fun. We assume that our own childhoods were somehow inferior, and we overcompensate for our sense of lack by buying “the good life” for our children. We tell ourselves that our kids need all of this stuff to be competitive in the new millennium. Yet, if we are honest with ourselves, we will admit that V-Smile and Chuck E. Cheese are for us. We will admit that we purchase pricy lessons for our children because we feel guilty that we do not spend enough time with them. We will admit that we pay through the nose for everything kiddie to make ourselves feel better about our parenting.
We can ask ourselves, does paying truly alleviate those insecurities? Do we feel better knowing that our child brought the best snack or gave the best birthday gift?... I don’t. I feel stressed and overwhelmed. I would rather boil some hotdogs, bake a cake, and invite the neighborhood kids to play hide-n-seek in the yard than to schedule a painting party at Artsy Me. I would rather pull out my camera and take candids of my kids at play than to pay for airbrushed professional photographs that fail to capture my children’s spirits. I would rather hang a congratulations banner over my porch than to buy a cap and gown for a kindergartener. I would rather that I be the one to teach my children to swim, to twirl a baton, or to skateboard than to sit on the sidelines and watch my children discover life with someone I pay to do my job.
Let’s take back childhood. Let’s reject commercialism. Our best childhood memories are usually the ones that cost our parents nothing. Remember playing with the box in which the toy came? We owe it to our children to free them up to simply enjoy being children. Moreover, we owe it to ourselves to enjoy our children’s childhood without worrying about how to pay for it.

Dr. Seretha D. Williams

center stage magazine

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