Working Children

I have decided I sound like a horrible person in this blogging world, but here I go again. Why are children abused if they have to work with their families? I had to work on the family farm as soon as I was tall enough to drive a tractor. That equates to beginning to mow the lawn on a riding mower at the age of seven. The lawn was five acres. I also climbed the plum trees and picked the plums, hoed the garden, picked and shelled veggies. The garden was about three acres. It was used to feed the family and the field hands in the summer. I started cooking for the twenty to thirty people that showed up for work every day during planting and picking seasons around the age of five. I remember helping in the hot houses before I was in school. It was expected because everyone in the family was expected to do their part. The land was actually my aunts, but everyone in our family worked and was supported by the farm in someway or another. If it wasn’t your full time job, your worked the land when you were off. At the beginning of school each year, our teachers asked what was planted this year. This allowed school to know whether we were cutting class or missing school for farm work. Granted our situation is not as bad as the situation in California with the migrant workers. All things considered, the migrant school day program quoted in the article still gives the students close to the same school day in length as home schooled students. The problem with migrant workers does show the need for standardized timelines on teaching curriculums and using the same texts statewide. I guess what really bothered me in all goings on was that this is what is normal for many, not just immigrant children. I can take you seventy miles from MTSU and show you children hauling in water from the “crick” before breakfast and chopping wood for the stove. They are ingenious at making up games and having fun without a television or computer. They may stay up all night and catch chickens for cash. This is really abuse, but no less abuse than that their parents experience doing the same job. They come to school the next day with hands and arms cut from the chicken spurs. They hunt early in the morning before school, but it might be tonight’s dinner. The first full moon after the first frost, many miss school because they have been up all night slaughtering hogs. The meat is supposed to taste better if you do it this particular night. As their teachers, we know to expect the high absentee count on this day, and we respect that they are doing what they have to do to survive.
Our teachers are doing what they must do to survive also. I see my friend Lisa as she runs out the door headed to her second job cleaning a church. Doug leaves for his job at Wal-mart, if it is not his weekend for National Guard. Others have started their own businesses after hours. The consistent theme is that none of us are able to afford to live on what we are making as teachers unless we are married with a spouse who is also working. The teachers in Memphis either have a lower cost of living or we are not doing a good job of managing our funds in our neck of the woods.
Children of Katrina did not make it to our small school. I had friends displaced during the storm. They started over sending their children to the school their children were zoned for in the places they settled. Somehow we missed the fact they could have chosen to send them to the school of their choice. Their children have adjusted to their new situations and are doing fine.
Sesame Street was a great thing when I was a child. I have a strong affection for Muppets. After all, Chrissy Gayle was born three blocks from where Kermit the frog was dreamed up. The maternity ward had murals of Miss Piggy, Kermit and the whole crew lovingly lining the walls waiting to great the new arrivals. The Muppets have become to commercial to suit me. I miss the good ole days. Why do babies have to be constantly having learning shoved down their throat even before they are out of the womb? Can’t they just look up at a mobile and discover things anymore? Can’t we just learn to sing our A, B, C’s and be happy? Take your kid away from the television, go outside, and play. Have a great summer!