Desicritics Category: Culture: Children

Children, Adults, and Other Animals

Vinod Joseph — Tue, 2 Dec 2008 12:09:21 EST

Recently I read the results of a study on children carried out in the UK which said that more than half the British population believed that children behave like animals. More than half the respondents of the study said that children were increasingly a danger to others. More than one-third of those surveyed also agreed that "it feels like the streets are infested" with children, while 43% said something had to be done to protect adults. Half the respondents did not have much sympathy for children who got into trouble and didn’t think they might need professional help.

I was not surprised by the result of this study. In the last 6 years which I have spent in the UK, I have heard many adults express absolute hatred for children. Married couples have proudly told me that not only do they not plan to have kids, but they don’t like kids in the first place. In the UK, it is still illegal to breastfeed a child in public, though it is not illegal to drink in public (I am not against either activity). Passengers in trains and buses raise eyebrows if a baby starts bawling – why should I be inconvenienced by your child is the usual attitude, though a loud mouthed drunk will be cheerfully tolerated.

On the flip side, I have also seen gangs of children terrorise adults. Entire streets become no-go zones after dark, taken over by mobs of children whose ages range from six to sixteen. In some towns where there is high unemployment, it is common to see children playing truant and wandering around in groups even in the daytime. I’ve seen adults travelling in public transport cower into corners when a bunch of children wander in. Child gangs frequently assault people and commit robberies.

This is not to say that they are no well-mannered or hard-working children in the UK. Most children of middle-class parents in the UK are very well-behaved, in fact better behaved than children in India. I have many colleagues and friends who spend a substantial amount of their free time with their children. I had a (male) colleague who took a few weeks off to help his thirteen year old son prepare for entrance exams to a well-known public school. In all probability, the number of ‘good’ children in the UK exceeds the number of ‘bad’ children, but since the ‘good children are not as visible as the ‘bad’ ones, UK’s ‘children’ problem is bound to catch your eye if you live in the UK for more than a week.

There are various theories advanced for this state of affairs in the UK, which is not seen anywhere else even in the western world. The breakup of the family is usually cited as the main reason, though other European countries where family units have broken down do not seem to have similar problems with their children. In the UK, corporal punishment is banned in school. Parents are allowed to mildly smack their children, though any punishment that leaves a mark on a child can land a parent in jail. Interestingly, various European countries such as Norway, Austria, Germany etc. have totally banned any form of parental punishment that involves violence. The rationale is that no human being should have the right to use physical force against another and children very much fall within the definition of ‘human being’.

The situation in India and other Asian countries is in stark contrast to that in the UK. Asian children are pampered to an extent that may be described as ‘unhealthy.’ In some cases, both sets of dotting grandparents are at hand to do the pampering. Children are brought up to believe that they are the most important thing in their parents’ lives. A working woman who has her child taken care of by a nanny or in a day care centre is looked up on with suspicion, as if she is neglecting a sacred duty. Many Indian schools expect their pupils to receive full-time attention from at least one parent, which will invariably be the mother. There are some schools which refuse to admit students if both parents hold full-time jobs. I have always believed that Indian schools teach their children too much unnecessary stuff and give them too much homework (instead of wrapping up studies during school hours), but that’s for another post.

Every time I’ve travelled by air, the most unruly children are the Asian kids, who seem to be incapable of sitting still. Indian parents tend to believe that their children are entitled to make a nuisance of themselves wherever they are and others have a duty to put up with it. Recently there have been a few stories of how Indians have started to refuse to make allowances for children in public places, but by and large, strangers in India are willing to tolerate the shenanigans of children in public places.

In a way I am glad more and more Indians are starting to demand that parents not inflict their children on others, though I don’t think I would like to see India reach the same position as the UK is currently in. I have always taken the view that what’s usually branded as ‘western culture’ is actually the culture of urbanisation and industrialisation, though Japan stands out as an exception to this. As India progresses economically (at least it did till the recent recession and terror attacks in Mumbai), its culture is bound to follow a trajectory similar to that taken by western countries many decades ago. There will be more and more nuclear families, single parents and broken homes as is currently the case in the western world. However, it remains to be seen if Indian society will reach a stage where it has the sort of ‘children problems’ which UK currently has.

In my opinion, continental European countries like France, Italy and Germany are in a much better position than the UK vis-à-vis children. In these countries, one doesn’t hear of children having such a strained relationship with their parents or having serious drinking or drug-related problems. It is difficult to pinpoint the reasons for this disparity among European nations, but if India continues to industrialise and urbanise, I hope it ends up in the continental European position rather than the British one.

Children With Learning Problems - It's the Schools, not the Kids, Stupid!

Deepa Krishnan — Tue, 2 Dec 2008 08:24:25 EST

It's a problem fairly common in schools, but we don't know how big it is. It has solutions, but we don't know how to implement them. All we've done so far, is sit by, and let children blunder on.

I'm talking about kids with difficulties in reading, writing and math.

No one really knows how many children in India have learning disabilities (LD), but it looks like a staggering 20 to 50 million might be affected. And still, there are very few schools that have any mechanisms in place to identify children with LD, or offer remedial therapy. The real tragedy is that LD children are not "stupid" - some of the brightest minds of our time, from Einstein to Edison to Pasteur, have had LD.

This Saturday, I went to an LD conference at the Hyatt, a gathering of educators, teachers, researchers and parents. The conference was hosted by Tata Interactive Systems, as part of their CSR initiative. As several speakers presented their thoughts and experiences, I learnt a lot about LD.

What I found most frustrating was when I realised that the real problem is not with the kids. The real failure seems to be of school boards, administrators, and teachers. A survey of school teachers across CBSE, ICSE and SSC schools in Mumbai, conducted by the Bombay Teachers Training College, shows very low levels of real awareness amongst teachers ("Oh, I didn't realise, you mean like Taare Zamin Par?").

If those who are entrusted with teaching our children are themselves blind, then where do the rest of us go?

For the past 2 years, my mother has been tutoring a little girl from the slum nearby. Pranali has problems with the Marathi and the English alphabet. She's also bad with numbers and multiplication tables. But she's a very bright child, with twinkling eyes and winning ways, and can recite poetry and lessons beautifully. My mother's patience, her fair but firm handling, and her genuine love are making Pranali blossom. The child loves coming to our house, loves to write her squiggles, and is almost tragic in her eagerness to please. If my mother moves away to another room, the girl follows her. "Mi ithe basu ka?", she asks......"Can I sit here (near you)?" It is like a flower finding the warmth of the sun and wanting to bask in it forever. It is the first time the child has found love and understanding, instead of strict balwadi teachers with frowning faces.

Last year, she passed her second standard exams, and has now moved to the third standard. To help with her third standard Marathi lessons, my mom enrolled for Marathi language classes nearby. I am amazed at my mother's dedication. "I promised Pranali's mother", my mom said. "So I'm going to do the best I can."

When I compare this with the thousands of other children subject to the tyranny of indifferent balwadi and municipal teachers, I'm telling you, it's enough to make me cry.

There are some small glimmers of hope. The B.Ed curriculum just got modified to include lessons on learning disabilities (finally!). At Sion Hospital, Dr. Kulkarni is doing some outstanding work in testing, diagnosis and remedial therapy (that's her in the photo below, a small grey haired lady with an iron will). Parents in Bombay are increasingly driving change at schools. Some schools already have counsellors and special needs educators, and more schools are waking up to the need. Last month, the school I went to, SIES, appointed a counsellor and is going to have a Special Needs Teacher from the next academic year.

There is progress, yes, but it is frustratingly slow. Several questions remain unanswered - for example, is there lower dyslexia in studying Indian languages than in English? Are Devnagri graphemes easier for those with dysgraphia? Does living in joint families, where there are different speech cadences, make a difference to infants? Does losing traditional lullabies result in increased LD? Do Indian girls have more LD, given the potentially lower attention in childhood? How early can we diagnose LD in India, and through what mechanism? Does improving balwadi nutrition programmes offer high rewards in improving performance of children LD?

Many questions come rushing at me when I think of the social and cultural issues involved in something as complex and widespread as LD. Every one of these could make a significant research topic, if only the funds (and the academic will) were there! I am deeply grateful Tata Interactive is putting not just money, but also thoughtful and invovled effort behind this. More power to them.

Saving India's Missing Girls

Somik Raha — Mon, 24 Nov 2008 14:10:15 EST

In the second piece of the Gems of the Planet series (the first was My Friend, the Landlord), we continue with the same criteria for our gems:

Feel the suffering of others as their own and cannot rest until they've done something to alleviate it
Have compassion for all, especially those they seek to transform

I found this gem in an unexpected place - a film screening at Stanford of India's Missing Girls, a documentary made by Ashok Prasad of the BBC. The documentary portrayed a grim picture and dispelled several myths:

Several women interviewed preferred male babies and would prefer to terminate female foetuses of their own accord.
Educated women too do this, especially in business families to ensure that the fortune remains in the family
In some cases, when the woman is unwilling, the family puts a lot of pressure, and sometimes forces the mother to abort
The director presented statistics after the film screening. The highest number of female abortions are done by Jains, followed by Sikhs, followed by either Buddhists or Hindus (I forget which). I remember being shocked by this statistic, because I expected Hindus to be at the top. Nothing can prepare one to accept that Jains are the #1 offender as Jain philosophy is the pinnacle of non-violence. I guess I am too naive to believe that people follow the philosophy they were born into.
The fact that women were electing to abort foetuses confounded the pro-choice people in the audience (should they say: we want women to have choice, but not that much choice?)

However, in the middle of all these depressing facts was a shining gem. The film revolves around a remarkable woman, Sandhya Puchalapalli, who founded the Arti Home in Cuddappah, to save female foetuses from abortion. Sandhya studied the circumstances that lead people to abort their female children, and she tackled several problems. First, she has a crib outside the nursing home that allows families to anonymously place babies whom they'd otherwise kill or abandon (with the same outcome). This takes care of the fear of legal repercussions, and saves the life of the baby who is then raised in the home in a loving environment with a focus on nutrition and education. Second, she keeps a strong connection with the community around her and knows who is pregnant. She then connects with them to talk about their aspirations for their baby. When they tell her that they will abort if it is a girl, she reasons with them in a remarkably non-judgmental way. I know many who'd hit the parents if they heard something like this. Not Sandhya. She goes back on a regular basis, explaining that a girl child is not useless and deserves a lot of love, the same as a boy child. The film follows the interaction with one couple and how the mother comes around from a position of fear to one of joy where she eagerly waits for her daughter and does not abort.

What makes Sandhya stand out from all the other activists I know is that, time after time in the film, she has only compassionate words for parents who decide to abort, particularly to avoid dowry. She says, "Just imagine what the parents must be going through to have come to this decision?" Even when she is face-to-face with the parents, she has no anger or hatred, but understanding and compassion. A poignant moment of the film is when Sandhya receives a baby who is born premature. After getting the baby medical help, Sandhya goes to the local temple to pray for the child's life. When the child does not make it, she is heartbroken. Even then, she has no harsh words for the parents who abandoned the baby.

Caring for unwanted children, feeling their pain and doing something to save their lives beyond yelling and criticizing in media platforms is rare. Generating compassion for the parents who feel compelled to abort their children and not seeing them as the "other" is rarer still. While one miracle is documented in the film (the change of heart of one family), I am sure she works many such miracles with her attitude. I sincerely hope I get to meet this remarkable lady in person.

If you are in Cuddappah and meet her, do share your stories with me. Arti Home is supported by the Vijay Foundation Trust.

Dyscalculia - Not Having Fun With Numbers

Deepti Lamba — Tue, 23 Sep 2008 13:56:28 EDT

Today was a day of revelation for me. I held back tears when memories of misery and utter frustration rained down on me while I waited for my children's bus to come. I had inadvertently stumbled on a condition that made me realize I wasn't dumb as a doorknob when it came to mathematics.

For years I believed I had some kind of a dyslexia. I could read and write well but when it came to math I was just plain dumb. My brain would shut down and the numbers wouldn't make sense. I still cannot handle change.

Yesterday at a grocery store, the cashier muttered something about owing two rupees and I wondered whether the store owed me 2 rupees or I owed them. I got nervous and antsy. Who owed who? My brain came to a standstill. Dumb Dee Dumb it sang to me. I cleared my throat and asked - Do I owe you? The reply was a no and I was shown the bill and explained the difference.

I didn't hate myself at that moment. I have long since accepted my condition - dumb and a secret I've long since kept. I still have trouble remembering my husband's cell number since the first five digits are the same as mine. I used my fingers to count the similar numbers while I penned the sentence. I still use my fingers to add and subtract. I used to have trouble distinguishing my right from my left. I still visualize myself in a place when I give directions. So what's wrong with me? I have dyscalculia. Its a learning disability in which one cannot comprehend math, numbers, and more.

The DfES defines dyscalculia as:

A condition that affects the ability to acquire arithmetical skills. Dyscalculic learners may have difficulty understanding simple number concepts, lack an intuitive grasp of numbers, and have problems learning number facts and procedures. Even if they produce a correct answer or use a correct method, they may do so mechanically and without confidence.

Dyscalculia is dyslexia for numbers. But unlike dyslexia, very little is known about its prevalence, causes or treatment. Current thinking suggests that it is a congenital condition, caused by the abnormal functioning of a specific area of the brain. People with dyscalculia experience great difficulty with the most basic aspects of numbers and arithmetic.

Best estimates indicate that somewhere between 3% and 6% of the population are affected. These statistics refer to those who are ‘purely’ dyscalculic – i.e. they only have difficulties with maths but have good or even excellent performance in other areas of learning.

Its not the end of the world to finally put a tag on what I have lived with all my life. There will be those who would deny the condition. Those who'd say I could have worked harder, been less lazy, less dumb, less paranoid, less angry, even less suicidal but it doesn't take away the condition or the fact that there are those who suffer from it.

Its close to nightfall and I cradle an empty feeling in my heart. I finally know that some part of my brain is different, I know why I always scored so low in IQ tests. There is no triumphant feeling that I made it despite my disability. There is no other feeling except the knowledge that I am not dumb and that this disability made me who I am.

Related Article: Inside story: dyscalculia

Book Review: Sold by Patricia McCormick

Blokesablogin — Wed, 17 Sep 2008 04:27:21 EDT

Kim's recent post on Human traffic induced me to write this review.

Call me a Rapunzel, inhabiting my own ivory tower, but my "interaction" with "prostitutes" or the modern, politically correct term, "sex workers" has been nebulous at best, via mass media: a book, a news article, a documentary or a film (the first one that showed it best was Salaam Bombay).

Earlier still, before I knew the "gritty" details of prostitution and worse, human trafficking, my understanding of this "shadow" lives of people were these gaudy mujrahs performed in sequined dresses from Pakeezha to Umrao Jaan. I wondered what the fuss was all about as I loved those songs, be it Thade rahiyo or Inhi logo ne, In ankhon ki masti or Chalte chalte etc. I loved the Kundan Jewelery too as I did the gorgeous Lucknowi kurtis. The more recent Devdas with the gorgeous Madhuri made me simply swoon with the sheer poetry of prostitution- it certainly seemed like some fine artform!

Kamalahasan's violent portrayal of Krishnaswamy in Mahanadi (1993) where his innocent daughter is thrown into the brothels of Sonagachi find much resonance with this book. While in this film, the father searches for his daughter, the book is about a step father "selling" his step-daughter for a measly sum to pay for his gambling.

Little does 13 year old Lakshmi, our protagonist, know about prostitution or human trafficking. She sincerely sets out to be a "good" servant in the "big" city and help her family have a tin roof. Her pleasure in being given candy by the "kind" uncle-husband is soon shattered by the horrors of the brothel madam.

Strangely enough, the overly dramatic Mahanadhi with all the sound effects did not touch me as deeply as this book did, with its spare, free verses and deep silence. The author, Patricia McCormick has done an amazing job of giving "voice" to a shadowed "silence" of the modern world: Human trafficking.

Lakshmi learns very soon that there is no point in speaking. crying or shouting. She learns to swallow her tears and her thoughts and just become a "limp rag" and lie still as men come and go between her thighs. She loses track of time and has no idea of her even turning 14! The highly exploitative business model of the brothel ensures complete dependence on the "madam" until you die of disease or get beaten up for running away. She even gets enthusiastic in attracting customers to "pay off" her debts sooner and get the "hell" out of there. She errs in her accounting. she is taught a new kind of math where for all eternity, she will be busy paying off her interest on a "loan" she never borrowed.

This book set me thinking on the "other side" of the deal- the customers for this inhuman trade. Who are these "shadow" clients who support such a trade? Do I know one? Did I meet such a person yesterday or today? What will I do if I did meet such a person? Why would anyone want to tear apart a virgin 12 year old in the name of curing some disease? Why haven't education institutions taught these people that these are fallacies and not scientifically true? What can I, as a woman, as a mother, do to ensure such a travesty is not committed on any innocent female body that is far from ripe for sexual intercourse?

It was heartening to know that there are women's watch groups and help groups that are educating naive girls in Nepal and India about the dangers of human trafficking. Still, much needs to be done. However, what can we do to stop the "demand" for such "services"? It has been over 2 week since I read the book, but my mind is still whirling with ideas as to how to "identify" people who do visit such places and instigate such inhuman actions.

I am not sure whether I even want children to read this book (it is recommended for young adults). Do I want to "inform" the children or am I taking away their innocence? Do I have the "right" to thrust such horrendous reality into their young minds or should I just "leave the book" around for them to pick up and read?

Fiction: Red

Deepti Lamba — Wed, 3 Sep 2008 13:59:09 EDT

The small beeping flare in his mind drove him crazy. The color red pervaded his entire thinking. His time was expiring. In the color he saw the numbers go down- hours, minutes and seconds. If he did not go to the clone center within the next two hours the population board would break in and get him. Forced Cloning and Forced Adoption.

The chimp experiment had shown isolation made psychopaths and the World Government had mandated each human above the age of 30 had to take care of it’s clone. In case of death the clone became the state warden till a maternal volunteer could be found.

He would know; he came from a maternal home. Maternal had become an asexual term. Anyone who was willing to adopt a DDC (Dead Donor Clone) was called a Maternal Volunteer. His was a gay MV who obsessed over his android.
His MV treated both him and his own clone like android pets – wash, feed and play at required intervals. He and his foster brother grew devoid of emotions. That was the last giant step for humanity - Devoid.

Devoid. He liked that word. He was like an empty vessel that enjoyed the pleasures without consequences. No human, no android required. The mind became the prophet and the senses its disciples. No external stimulation required- he and those of his generation had become islands to themselves.

No bodily contact - no disease, no sex androids- no addiction, no emotions- no war. The world had become greener, no material goods required. The pleasure of knowing it all since birth made those of his generation devoid – devoid to all.

Devoid to all but not to forced cloning. The worst form of slavery, an archaic practice continued by the World Government. Humanity had to go on.

The red flare blinked subtly in his mind.

Blink- you are to be a father

Blink- Father to your self

Blink- Father and the son and the holy ghost

Blink – the ghost was non existential, the father and the son became one

Blink- 2 Hours 0 minutes and 0 seconds left

Blink- Blink- Blink

Red-Red-Red

The color of life, of death, of emotions burned through the cold terrain that made his mind

It repulsed him. It made him feel less devoid. It made him feel out of sync; it made him feel what in the past was called anger.

He grabbed his head and watched the red sweep through his mind. It heightened his senses; his heart beat a little faster. Nerves heightened and the penis stiffened.

The Blinking became erratic. His hand grabbed his penis. No longer devoid, no longer emotionless. His mind raced. Images raced through his mind- woman next door, her naked hairy underarms, her nipples, her vagina.

It wasn’t the pleasure of sex that clogged his mind without the image that happened. That was the usual. No, it was the image of his naked neighbor that crashed against the walls of his virgin mind. Pleasure and the body synced in his mind. The disciples revolted against the prophet. The prophet and disciples became one.

Father and son – one and the same. The spirit joined them together. It was an orgy of oneness.

He sucked in a breath and grabbed his penis. He masturbated like the cave man, the chimp left behind in the sterile rooms of centuries past feeling his nuts, his reason for existence- to be born again through his seed.

No android required, no human required. He still was an island to himself.

Red- the color of pleasure bound him to the woman; bound the hand to the penis. Jerking movements, gaping salivating mouth, the racing heart. Heat and red pounded his mind. The Blinking red rose to a crescendo; the once useless penis jerked squirted its potentiality.

The Blinking continued in his mind like a straddled android humping ceaselessly.

Blink……Blink …….Blink

Red….red….RED….RED……..

“Stop” he muttered “I am coming!! I swear I am!”

He felt fear course through his mind. Fear?! What was that? Emotion? The shivering, the panic, the breathlessness?

How?!

Sirens screeched in his mind.

0:00:00

BLINK!! BLINK!! BLINK!!

His mind betrayed his senses. Cloning, not procreation allowed. Error In Programming. System Crash!!

His heart Blinked RED for the last time. He crumbled to the ground and became non-existential - Devoid.

Related Article: Falling Japanese Population

Taare Zameen Par - Is Every Child Special?

Cine Cynic — Sun, 31 Aug 2008 12:28:54 EDT

Aamir Khan's Taare Zameen Par is a wonderful movie, but for its tagline. "Every child is special," has now become part of the Used-Taglines-List which has been growing with each movie. I will wait for the day when our film-makers no longer feel compelled to contribute to the list.

If you think about it, Taare Zamee Par is about a special child in various senses of the term. Dyslexia is Ishaan Awasthi's curse and also his gift (if we go by the Davis Dyslexia Association International). Ishaan's gift, in a more direct sense, is painting. That gift makes him prodigious, not just special. The movie proves the specialty of that child to the rest of the world, not just to his parents.

A movie that fits this movie's tagline is yet to be made. That movie would be about a normal child without disabilities nor special talents, a child who is not specially abled either in the literal or in the euphemistic sense, and if things need to be made worse, is plain mediocre. But then, how will it really work? It perhaps won't.

"Every child is special," is a trite remark that we are all obliged to believe. It has been so often used, without meaning it, that we don't stop to think if it's true, nor to think if we believe in it. Even if someone stops to think, they are haunted by guilt and fear that proving it, justifying it, rationalizing it, or even questioning it may be heretic.

There is a proverb in Telugu: kAki pilla kAkiki muddu. A baby crow is special to the crow. Not to every or most or many crows, but to the parent crow. Children are special to their parents. To the rest of the world in most cases, especially to the parents of other children, they are simply other children.

That's alright. Every child need not be special to everybody; adults are not. Though it would be nice to have more, any person needs just one other person to make them feel special.

Under-age Drinking and the Family

DeeptiA — Mon, 25 Aug 2008 00:38:03 EDT

I read this article in a newspaper, and was shocked (and shocked is a mild word for what I felt). Read a few excerpts, and then we can discuss further:

Dr Harish Shetty, however, doesn't buy the logic. "Drinking with dad is just as bad as it can sow the seeds of alcoholism in adult life.'' He feels that there are some parts of the big bad world that parents should not get inside the homes. It's not just at house parties that alcohol is 'on the house. 'A Congress MLA's son from an elite school in the western suburbs celebrated his birthday party at Taj Land's End, where booze flowed freely until the wee hours of the morning.

For several city children, "beer and breezers aren't really alcohol.''Kids have often sneaked miniature bottles of vodka into the classroom and downed liquor in the loo. Some have even been caught for it, after falling asleep at school. Students at one south Mumbai school have openly gulped down vodka in Bisleri bottles during the school socials.

This is downright scary. Alcohol is not just a party drink; when drunk in moderation and under control, it can be accepted. However, there are many dangers to alcohol drinking that most people know about (and are outlined briefly). Please add more such stuff if you know about this:

1. Alcohol can be pretty harmful to the system. Regular drinking of alcohol leads to damage of the liver, and a craving to have a regular session with the bottle. Damage to the liver (enough to cause lasting damage) increases in probability due to the intake of alcohol.

2. During the formative years, children (or young adults as they would like to be called) are susceptible to peer pressure, and may be forced to join even when they would desire not to.

3. Similarly, in today's world, even with so many other careers available, the need for a good education is a significant factor in moving ahead in life; if children start to discover alcohol and spend time in such parties during this time, there will be a percentage of children who will be actually affected by alcohol.

4. Once a parent allows children to start consuming alcohol, it is one major moral point off; it will be much more difficult for a parent to try and prevent more 'social' drinking at parties / clubs.

5. Nothing comes for free. With an increasing proportion of population becoming obese, and coming down with the 'lifestyle' illnesses, such as diabetes, increased alcohol content just ends up causing more damage to the body.

6. Consider the case where you have given you almost adult child the keys to a vehicle (bike / car). He / she ends up at a friend's party where alcohol is served (you can maybe control going to clubs or other such places (how!!)), and drives home with a fair amount of alcohol in the bloodstream. Accidents happen, and in Mumbai, you stand the chance of having to get your child out of jail (where people caught drinking and driving are sent for atleast a day's imprisonment).

You can add many more reasons, and you could argue that this is a trend that one cannot stop, and you may be right; that does not mean however that one should accept this kind of behavior as normal. Out of readers, how many have faced such a situation, and do you know of things that will help out in this regard?

Growing Up With Enid Blyton

Shantanu Dutta — Fri, 22 Aug 2008 02:10:17 EDT

I remember the time I checked out four books out of our local public library and brought them home. My dad, who liked me to read and particularly read English books, was delighted and sad at the same time. He was thrilled to see me read but yet he wasn’t pleased to see who I was reading – the British author Enid Blyton. My dad, a literature student would have rather preferred that I read Shakespeare or Dickens but I preferred Enid Blyton. And today I find that though she has been dead since 1968, British voters have voted Enid Blyton at the top of a list of 50 all time favorite authors. And yes, she is ahead of Charles Dickens, Shakespeare and all those classic names.

Did Enid Blyton write classy literature that surpassed Shakespeare? Of course not. Shakespeare and the other authors are all masters of their genre and indeed if the entire world is a stage, then Shakespeare is one of its finest chroniclers. But what made her so timeless is that she journeys with you from childhood into adolescence – at least the choppy waters of turbulent adolescence if not the full course.

From the early childhood books of Noddy and Big Ears and onto the marvelously imaginative fairy tales, containing elves and fairies and gnomes and all manner of other characters- some good and some not so good, to the adventures of the five find outers, the secret sevens, the famous fives and others. It was a fascinating collection of racy adventure and fun and all anchored in sound family foundations and good food. Enid Blyton’s ability to describe a good English meal was particularly inspiring.

I suppose that part of the mystique of Enid Blyton is that there have not been that many writers of children’s’ books. In that list itself, there may not be more than four or five writers who were tremendously popular except for J.K.Rowlings, who did not write exclusively for children

Decades after I touched an Enid Blyton book, if I remember her with so much fondness, I suppose it is because her books taught my generation to live and enjoy life to the full and the skills for living she weaved in seamlessly in her books. In a value neutral world, her books could always be counted on to highlight the traditional or even old fashioned values of thrift, honesty, courage and integrity. Yet they also promoted the virtues of healthy curiosity, a sense of adventure and risk taking and problem solving, all good qualities to have as you entered into adolescence and subsequent adulthood.

Most of all the Blyton books celebrated camaraderie and friendship – between humans who worked together as teams bound together by love and genuine affection and equally importantly, she emphasized the bonding between humans and animals. Animals, particularly dogs were almost always a character in her books and the affection between animal pets and human masters was an abiding theme.

Close to forty years after her death Enid Blyton’s books continue to enthrall another generation today and that is good news for it reflects the enduring need for books that combine entertainment with education not in a pedagogical sense but in the sense of teaching people the art of living; not through any expensive course but simply through the pages of a book. But the British survey results are also bad news. For if a long dead author is still at the top of the charts, it goes to show that we are not producing enough Enid Blytons today…

Genocidal Indigenous Forces: Teaching Kids War Games

Harold Bergsma — Fri, 8 Aug 2008 03:28:30 EDT

Kids love it! They get to ride in Humvees or Black Hawk Helicopters and hold weapons and shoot at the evil ones, the genocidal indigenous forces. The American soldiers and uniforms are real but the enemy they shoot at is sort of vague, but they are the genocidal forces that will kill you unless you kill them. Terrorists!

Joseph De Avila’s article, War Games: Army Lures Civilians by Letting them Play Soldier (The Wall Street Journal, July 28th, 2008) describes the new war games that the army has developed as a recruitment device. They present a new way “…to relate to the public, they also present an opportunity to shape their tastes,” says Col Casey Wardynski from West Point. Some $9 million have been spent to develop these war games as recruitment devices. And, they are realistic. When you shoot the bad guys they fall down dead. Try not to hit the friendlies; that’s a no, no. How exciting to shoot at the ‘genocidal indigenous forces.”

In the Old Testament it says, “Train a child in the way he should go and when he is old, he will not depart from it.” (Prov.22.6) They knew their stuff back then, long before Christ, even if they didn’t have military psychologists to tell them how to motivate youngsters. Somehow, what you learn as a kid, particularly about modeling adult behavior, seems to have some effect on them in later years. Amazing. The US Army sure got it right. The way to get young people to enlist as soldiers is to make them feel it, put a gun in their hands and go bang, bang. That’s powerful stuff. A bit violent, perhaps, but hardly any different from what the kids watch on T V. Oh, I almost forgot, soldiers are trained to kill the enemy.

Of course teenagers also play the Army game and if they are over seventeen, they soon get a call from recruiters with ideas about incentive packages and the like, and it seems to work. You see, the terrorists are out there, but you can’t really see them. Sure there was 911, but even Bush got it wrong, where the terrorists came from, but look, if they are ‘genocidal indigenous forces’ that are radical and insurgent, go for it. The war on terror is frustrating because the enemy doesn’t play fair, doesn’t show his head, just sneaks in and explodes a bomb or two and kills a bunch of innocent people and then later in the press, some strange group takes happy credit for it. The “genocidal indigenous group” called the faithful warriors of the almighty was responsible for the latest killings. Sound familiar? It happened in India not too long ago, bomb blasts, and revenge killings for past killing of the ‘faithful’. The old Pathan ethic, the pushtunwali, still is very much alive, revenge, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. But the problem with bomb blasts and suicidal killing of others is that so many innocent die or are maimed.

The US Army recruitment efforts, targeting kids and young people to enlist, is not a new idea. One of the earliest schemes to use children to foster the state’s programs occurred in 1948. The Stalinist apparatchiks established a children’s train and recruited hundreds of children to run a train with the intent of creating a cadre of enthusiastic rail workers for the state, and to “instill political obedience in youth.” By the way that same train system has been modernized and is back in service in Hungary and, yes, the kids run it. To be admitted to this training program requires high admission standards but the pay is great, and the added bonus, they get a good dose of “old style discipline.” See Daniel Michaels’ article, ‘Is this any Way to Run a Railroad, In Hungary, They Put Kids to Work.” (The Wall Street Journal, Aug. 8, 2008.)

But wait, it is not only the western world that is targeting kids with subtle messages to gain their support. Have you heard about Islamic Superheroes who battle injustice in America? The new series is called The 99 and is a whole series of comic books which feature hero characters that each; personify the 99 qualities that the Koran attributes to God. Interestingly enough, the comic book series is doing well in the Islamic world after the creator of the series, Naif Al-Mutuwa guaranteed that great respect would be given to Islamic religious beliefs, which resulted in a major Islamic bank supporting his project. Imagine, “Jabbar the Powerful” or “Noora the Light” fighting the, now get this, the evil indigenous forces of evil in America. An illuminating review of this by Camille Agon, called Islamic Superheroes Going Global was reported in Time on 8/7/2008.

Yes, bring them up in the way they should go and when they become adults they will not depart from it. Ancient wisdom is being applied in modern situations by many different groups, and the system works.

I wonder how youth are trained and motivated to support and even become Taliban, Al Qaeda? War games in which vague figures are dressed like Americans which can be shot at in video games? Hardly, no. Madrassas are sometimes the answer! The difference is dramatic. In the American War Games, they shape their tastes: the youth sit in a Black Hawk Helicopter, safe and secure and kill genocidal insurgent militant forces from a distance and don’t even see the blood and guts, just hear the roar and the thunder of the explosions. How different from the youths, say from the NWFP of Pakistan, whose religious beliefs are so honed that they will put explosives on their own bodies; beautiful young men and women, and blow themselves up for the sake of the Cause. That is real commitment based on very strong faith and belief that the rewards in the next life will be great and eternal. With US Army war games, they “shape their tastes” now for active recruitment: for the faithful, religious training could lead to personal suicide shaping their eternity in the great bye and bye based on a combined set of motivators, hate for the infidel Zionists and a passionate love for Paradise.

The beauty of the American system is that it is supported NOW, not by eternity, now, with lots of high tech killing machines and lots of computers that make striking the target an almost certainty with a feeling of anonymity as the trigger is pulled. Training, simulated killing of the enemy, the evil ones and that is sort of fun; and you even get to keep score while you are at it. Play soldier. What a strange concept. There is nothing playful about killing another human being, whoever she is. Certainly, for the suicide bomber, play does not enter the picture, nor is there anonymity involved, it is highly personal and by pulling the trigger the ‘game’ is over. It is not a game but a choice for death based on a belief in life everlasting with a knowledge that as you die you take a hundred of the enemy with you, you know the accursed American infidels who are in Afghanistan and Iraq. Madrassas may get a bad rap because a few of them do train youngsters to do violence for a greater cause and even teach them how to handle weapons and explosives. The US Army should get a bad rap for developing a recruitment tool that is insidiously and philosophically awful; motivating young people to become killers with a game. But, oh well, as long as it is for a good cause, you know, obliterating ‘them-thar’ genocidal indigenous forces. We all know who those guys are, right?

We have a generation of youth whose ‘tastes have been shaped’ by violence on television, daily doses of it. Even as a pre-school youth, long before television was invented, I remember running around playing cops and robbers, cowboys and Indians, a toy gun in my hand going bang-bang, you’re an Indian and you are dead. I had no idea who Indians were, nor even where the Punjab was located. Later it was water pistols and now I see they have graduated to guns that shoot blobs of dye so that you can record a ‘kill’ with colorful evidence. Yes, mea culpa. I loved guns. I was an excellent marksman and a pretty good shikar and shot many helpless critters in India, Nepal, Africa and America. Jim Corbett was my idol. Yes, my tastes were shaped, and I think the war games will be effective recruitment tools for the Army since many American youths have a taste already established. Is that called appetite? Yes I think the Islamic Superheroes comic books will be a big success and create the zeal for justice that the authors’ seek.

My huge problem now is that I no longer believe that the world’s problems can be solved by violence and by killing each other. In Luke 3 vs.14 it says, “Do violence to no man.” I must have missed that verse earlier on in my youth. Strange, how selective our perception is based on age, taste, experience and belief. Consider this; “Not one blow, O Madhusudan! will I strike to gain the rule of all Three Worlds; then, how much less to seize an earthly kingdom! Killing these must breed but anguish, Krishna!” Out of context, assuredly, but not out of mind.

We maintain the right to bear arms in America, and this is a deeply held liberty based on the 2nd Amendment to the U.S. Constitution. Most American homes have a gun or two. I checked on this and came up with the figure of 215 million guns in homes in 1999 and that since that time about 60 million more have been added. (You see, there are many gun collectors who have many guns.) Imagine a country with 250 million guns in the hands of its citizens. Yes, I can see that the U S army has developed a recruitment winner with its new war games, especially since they have connected shooting and killing with patriotism and getting the bad guys, the evil genocidal indigenous forces that live over there somewhere and speak weird languages and scribble stuff from right to left and set the price of gas way too high. Let them play soldier. A satirical cartoon would be redundant in an atmosphere in which comic book cartoon superheroes bespeak the reality of international nuclear control, not mere guns.