Working with the issue of censorship is always messy. Throw in the daily temptation to censor materials for children and you have a monster in the room without realizing you let him in. I will be perfectly honest, I am against censorship as an idea. If your own belief system cannot stand against opposing viewpoints it is hardly worth your time. That said, I know many adamant opponents of censorship who shy away from the topic when children are involved.
A few weeks ago I took a book about the Holocaust away from a first grade student. It seemed to be too advanced for them. However, after going home, this bothered me. I had acted out of the assumption that children are innocents needing my guidance to preserve that. I was sheltering them from the harsh light of reality. This one action kept me awake for a few nights. If the child was old enough to show interest, then he was old enough to have the book.
This week a staff memo went out that made me think about all of this even more. An Indianapolis woman who helped found an organization that provides fresh produce to schools in poverty stricken areas passed away this past week. My place of employment has utilized this program the two years I've been there. Our kitchen department decided that the children should make thank you letters and cards for the family to express their gratitude for the snacks and show the family how much their mother accomplished through the program. The memo was passed on to my building with a note stating something along these lines of, "Great idea, BUT leave out the fact that she died." This was meant as a well thought out public relations kind of statement. I respect that. However, this once again placed our cultural views of death into a new context for me after the issues I had with my own action of censorship.
Like most of the important steps and experiences in life, we chose to shield children from death. We do this with romantic love, sexual attraction, ambiguous situations, and death. As soon as I read this week's memo I thought of the faceless children in Pink Floyd's, The Wall. Any life event which causes strong emotional responses is shunned in our children. This is not a public education issue, it is a cultural issue. It is carried out at school, but otherwise there would be a line of parents at the door to complain if things were handled differently.
Death pervades our world. Despite the fact that most of us adults want to spend our lives pretending it does not exist, death will take us all. Why do we feel the need to pretend with children that death does not exist. I find this idea at odds with the idea that we are a "Christian" nation. Death is central to the biblical message. Death brings retribution, propitiation, and in a metaphorical sense new life in the biblical worldview.
All of this made me wonder about the formation of my own views of death. Growing up a pastor's child I saw more than my fair share of death. I attended funeral after funeral as a child. I never became calloused to death as many might suppose a child raised around a lot of death would be. It was normal though. My parents did not replace pets before I noticed they were missing. They told me they were dead. It surprises me to hear grown adults shy away from death. In the last year, I saw an adult skip a family member's funeral because he "does not do funerals." Guess what, you'll do one. You'll be the guest of honor at one, to be quite macabre about it. Death is not "fun" for any of us, but ignoring one aspect of humanity does not take it away.
While it is always a possibility that I grew up seeing a bit too much death, I firmly believe it gave me a healthier view of death than most adults I encounter that are of a similar age. I have never had the belief that I am invincible. I saw infants in coffins as well as old men. When I finally have children of my own I will not shy away from death and its permanent ramifications with my children. Hiding death from children betrays their trust. They believe the world is being shown to them by the adults around them. We need to exhibit the world as it is to children rather than the world we wish could be.
I did not write this to be bleak and depressing. This weekend I think all of this came together for me. Without getting into details, I have had the worst few months of my entire life this spring. Last night, through no tangible catalyst, it hit me. Every moment is precious. Each day is a gift. We are so temporary. I knew these words before. The meaning was simply absent. Accepting death gives us life. Knowing that death will find us all makes life more urgent.
