Little boys grow up to be pains, not cowboys

We were at the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago yesterday and we were on a guided tour of a coal mine (well, you know, a museum coal mine) and our tour guide was this chipper young woman who called the kids in the group "minor miners." There was this one little boy of about 3 who was very out-going, chatty and outspoken. Whenever the guide asked a question, he was always yelling out an answer, or making comments like "I am afraid of fires and sometimes at night I can't sleep because my house will burn down."

And the group would laugh. And the mother, somewhat embarrassed but not entirely, would try to get him to behave; but the guide kept insisting that it was fine and no one else seemed to be bothered, so she let him go. I watched as he wound up even further, and at one point he was a bit frenzied and said to everyone, "watch, I can hop on one foot," and then he did so. "And wait, I can hop on the other foot too, watch me," and everyone watched.

He was absolutely adorable and he reminded me of my own son at that age. And then it hit me. This kid was doomed. He was being taught that his behavior was cute by the reinforcement of everyone's laughter and encouragement. And it felt good, you could see it in his face. So, he is going to spend the next few years honing his skills and then he is going to go to school.

And they are going to crush him. And tell him to stop it. To be quiet, to stop asking questions, stop being so ebullient and charming because it's not useful or helpful or wanted in the classroom. And it's going to take a few years for him to un-do the conditioning he has undergone throughout his childhood, and in that time span he will be labeled a problem child. And eventually he will grow more quiet and unhappy because he will no longer understand what is the right way to behave, and I wanted to say to his mother, DO NOT SEND YOUR CHILD TO PUBLIC SCHOOL BECAUSE THEY WILL HARM HIM.

And they kept popping up in the same places that we did in the museum, which only underscored the fact that I was supposed to say that to her. I was supposed to plant that seed in her mind so that it would grow strong enough so that by the time he is school-aged she will know for sure it is not the proper place for him. But I didn't. And now I feel bad, but I know that in the future I will not make this same mistake, because it has been on my mind ever since and I hate the thought of that little boy being squashed as much as I've hated watching it happen to my own son.

Charlie loved the museum. He ran around like a little kid and went from exhibit to exhibit with childlike enthusiasm. He didn't want to leave (Hallie and I were dragging five hours into it) and we were able to end the day with him going into a flight simulator; which left him all bubbly and happy. The two things that over-the-top excited him were that and the farm equipment that he could climb into and pretend to drive. One was one big-assed tractor and the other was a thresher, which was monstrous. He kept saying that he wanted to drive those when he grew up; and I was very interested myself how high-tech farming has become.

I started to think about how this country needs to return to organic farming (and it already has) but that the future in my opinion will be more about healthy food as opposed to the genetically modified pesticide-laden crap that fills our supermarkets. And I thought that it would be a lovely way for Charlie to combine his love of machinery with a positive life goal. (I decided Hallie was going to be an engineer; I can decide if he's going to be a farmer too!)

The other thing he talks about is being a pilot. I like that too!