A sermon delivered to Live Oak U U Church of Austin
December 31, 2000
By Mary K. Isaacs and Martin Bryant.
Kasserian Ingera!
Among the tribes of Africa, few have warriors traditionally more fearsome or more cunning than the Masai of Kenya. It is perhaps surprising, then, to learn the traditional greeting among Masai warriors. One warrior would always say to another, “Kasserian Ingera,” which, in Swahili, means, “How are the children?”
It is still the traditional greeting among the Masai, acknowledging the high value of the Masai for the well-being of children. Even modern Masai with no children of their own always give the traditional answer, “All the children are well,” meaning, of course, that peace and safety prevail – that the priorities of protecting the young and powerless are in place, that Masai society has not forgotten its reason for being and its responsibilities. “All the children are well” means that life is good. It means that the daily struggles of existence do not preclude proper care for the young.
This story, I think, is moving, illustrating a society that values its children so highly that a reminder of them is part of every greeting. The story is also sobering – the fact that it’s surprising illustrates how very far our own culture is from valuing children in this way.
Very far. Not so long ago, the presence of an eight year old in a business was often a delightful break from the routine. In America today, that same store would greet that child with suspicion, perhaps even limiting the number of children in the store at one time. In that bygone day, society's role in child-rearing was unquestioned. Most people were parents or future parents, but beyond that, children were "our future" – the stuff of our purpose, and everyone had a stake in that.
An interesting "concrete" example of how children have been cultural devalued is to look at company provided insurance. For many years after companies began providing insurance, it was provided not only for the employee, but for the breadwinner's family. The companies recognized that helping to meet the needs which motivated the worker to work would make for a more stable, happier employee. Further, it was a way for the business to provide a societal benefit to the next generation.
In the seventies, now nicknamed the "me" decade, single employees with no children noticed that if you looked at pay and benefits as a compensation "package," single people were being treated unfairly. Employees with families were paid more, when you included the insurance for their families. Companies responded with so-called "cafeteria plans," which gave each employees "choice" about insurance. However, the choice for families was to barely cover their children with major medical plans, while employees with no family purchased eyeglass and prescription coverage.
This "fairness" and "choice" has contributed to a crisis in insurance coverage for children that now has state and federal governments funding programs for supplemental health insurance.
The "cafeteria" insurance plan illustrates that many adults think of children as a nuisance and a liability – someone else's problem. Kids are a lifestyle choice that involves dirty diapers, much less freedom, much less money, and no weekends.
Of course, this attitude misses the great spiritual and personal benefits of child-rearing – the hope and assurance that the great noble spirit in children provide, the direct tie to the future and your tangible role in that, the extension of your dreams and life energy in another. But this attitude also requires a curious warping of the American mantra of self-benefit.
You’d think that nothing would be more self-evident than the idea that taking excellent, attentive care of the children is in all our best interest. But the culture we’re swimming in now doesn’t look ahead; it says, instead, “If it’s not going to benefit ME, NOW, I’m not interested.” I guess it’s the requirement of immediacy that bites us in the area of children.
This attitude would have children swept off to the "youth reservation" and not let out until they’re “done.” Until they are reliable, productive, and non-threatening, until they are no longer "kids." This is a really curious formula for child development: Don’t bother us until you’re well-informed, emotionally stable, and ethically developed. But how exactly is all this highly desirable development to take place with no guidance? It takes work to be smart, stable, and ethical.
Why have our children become so devalued? Could it be economics? True, it’s no longer economically attractive
to have numerous children. Money is generally
given a fairly high value in this society; could it be that since money doesn’t flow
to the children, the children themselves become less attractive? Or does the cause and effect flow the other way? Are people caring for children less and having
fewer children because it’s unprofitable, or are economic policies less geared to
families because children are more and more devalued?
Of course, in agrarian societies, children are highly valued
because large families are sometimes a matter of survival.
The three-year-old has important chores to do, and the gradual increase of the
workforce ensures that not only will there be people to do next year’s harvest, but
when the eldest become unable to work in great old age, there will be people enough to
take care of them, too.
This may seem like a rather unromantic, utilitarian view
of children, but look at it this way: in this
setting, the young people are truly needed. They
are indispensably important. What a contrast! I work with the YRUU group, the high school age
youth group, at First Church, and I can attest to how marginal many of these teens feel,
how unimportant, how expendable. I think it
would be a good trade for many young people today, especially our adolescents, to do some
hard work in exchange for being considered essential.
Not that I’m suggesting we can return to an agrarian
society … I am suggesting that each of us look for significant ways to share our
lives with young people, giving them real work – not make work – but real work
to do. And, at least up to a point, the more
concrete, the better. Let them build
something, cook something, paint something, volunteer at a homeless shelter … either
to share your work, create elements of their own lives, or contribute meaningfully to the
lives of others. It might not make me popular
with some young people, but I think there can be such a thing as too much free time. But most people, including youth, don’t mind
having most of their time filled up if what they’re doing is really meaningful.
Fortunately, this morning we’re preaching to the choir: the Live Oak community doesn’t have to be persuaded of how amazing children are, that they aren’t just funny and darling, which they certainly are, but they’re also hard-working, creative, joyful, incredibly wise, and a constant encouragement to be better human beings ourselves. After all, we want to set good examples, to deserve the authority we have over them, and to be open to relearn the presence and purity of childhood.
Child psychologist Joseph Chilton Pierce in
his book "Magical Child" notes that young children have different abilities from
adults, and these abilities decline as the child’s mind develops for the structures
of adult skills like reading. Pierce notes
that children, on the whole sing better and more in tune than adults, and though they do
not have skills, seem to have a well developed aesthetic sense for art, being able to
differentiate good art from bad. We all often
admire the imaginative skills of the young. Waldorf
school founder and education pioneer Rudolph Steiner, saw this too, and his schools even
today continue the controversial practice of not rushing kids into learning to read.
More radically, Pierce also believes, based on his research, that younger children have enhanced telepathic and telekinetic skills. It is a truism that we often find brilliant musicians, artists, and charismatics "immature" or "childlike.” The irony that Pierce
I am sorry to find that this sermon is incomplete. I'll try to find the last bit of it. If you would like me to send it to you once I'm done digging it up, please e-mail me at meg@ibfam.net