An Epidemic of Mush-like Brains

Life is returning to normal in my community. The magic of spring and anticipation of summer has renewed life in a neighborhood wracked with violence a few short weeks ago. Nightly soccer games fill the school fields with raucous fun and laughter. Families walk or cycle by.

My sign of spring is here. Each year I wait in anticipation for my tulips to arrive. I planted them four years ago, they are vibrant reds, yellows and oranges, and their simple beauty fills my soul. For a few short weeks each year, I view my flower beds with intense pride. Unfortunately, these hardy perennials are my only claim to the gardening hall of fame, and their season is so short-lived, one blink and it is all over.

Another sure sign of spring is that edgy energy apparent in the kids. The boys are just a little more rowdy, there are a few more rough and tumble fights, and at times it seems, from my adult eyes, as if all sense has left them while they risk life and limb through what seems like sheer stupidity.

Last week we had a wonderful afternoon. The sun was shining, and things were just beginning to green up because of the recent rain. The day would have been idyllic except for a cool gusty wind that would come up with ferocity and then die down to allow the blistery heat of the sun to take hold again. As I was playing ball with the neighborhood boys in the schoolyard, a bright flash caught my attention. It wasn't until I turned my attention to a large group of teenagers that I realized what was going on. They weren't playing a game of touch football, like I had imagined. They were kicking around some can-like object, engulfed in flames.

Maybe I caught a touch of that spring-induced stupidity, or maybe my italian temper flared again, but the next thing I recall I was running headlong into the throng of teens to accost the individual closest to the flickering can. "Are you insane?", I quizzed him with my gruffest, most demanding tone. With my finger wagging threateningly at the boy who towered over me by at least a foot, I continued along my tirade. All but my young target shirked off into the background, with only an occassional giggle cutting through their silence.

He got a quick lesson in the danger of fire, and; I assume, in dealing with adversity. I was definitely adverse!

In hindsight I question my sanity, but as images of that blazing can run through my mind I am quick to anger, again. Visions of my house and neighborhood going up in flames due to this senseless act make me crazy. Once my ire had settled and I watched the throng of teens group up into a reactive huddle as they obviously discussed the incident, an edge of fear rose in my belly. What if they seek retribution? What if they deliberately target me? Is my moral attitude outdated, or is it still safe for adults to intervene when they witness childish stupidity? With an edge of fear, mixed with a hint of resentment at the fact that I am fearful, I continued to consider my options in the event these teens became unruly. Thankfully, they didn't. The glorious afternoon continued, and soon the teenagers began an unoffending game of touch football.

Have times changed? In this day and age, do kids respect adults enough to take intervention at face value? What would you have done?