It’s a phrase many are familiar with: it takes a village to raise a child. I grew up hearing this wisdom shared among my mother and her friends, and it made perfect sense to me. My mom had a supportive circle; while she and my dad were our main caregivers, they often relied on neighbors and friends to help when needed.
On school forms, emergency contacts after my parents were frequently our neighbors. During outings, other parents would step in to comment on any misbehavior. We all shared a responsibility to keep children safe, reminding kids not to run on wet concrete or to sit down when they decided a picnic table was a good place to stand. Even as a child, my mom taught me how to soothe a crying baby in a grocery store or assist a fellow parent overwhelmed with their hands full. There was a sense of community where everyone supported one another.
Now that I’m a mother, three decades after my own, I’ve come to realize that this community seems to have vanished. Where has the village gone? Occasionally, I might encounter an older woman who offers assistance with my tantruming child, but more often, I’m met with disapproving glances as people walk on by. It appears that many have forgotten the challenges of parenting in public spaces, or perhaps they’re simply uninterested in lending a hand, fearing they might upset the parent.
If my child is having a meltdown in a store, I would wholeheartedly welcome someone stepping in to distract them. More importantly, I would be extremely grateful if a stranger noticed my child in a potentially dangerous situation and intervened. I try my best to keep a watchful eye on my little ones, but sometimes unexpected events occur—like when my other child falls or reaches for something high up on a shelf.
This has been a topic of discussion between my partner, Jake, and me. While I feel frustrated with the judgmental stares I receive when my kids misbehave, Jake experiences a different reality as a father. People often smile at him, impressed that he’s managing the kids solo. I optimistically suggested to him that perhaps my experiences had just been unfortunate. But a month ago, when I desperately needed help, no one came to my aid. I realized then that without family or close friends around, I was truly on my own—and it was a terrifying realization.
My youngest son is a bundle of energy, full of curiosity and mischief. At our local grocery store, they offer child-sized carts for kids to push. While this is a cute idea, it can be quite chaotic, so I usually avoid that store. My older son handles the cart well, but my younger one is determined to do things his own way. He has figured out how to unbuckle himself, which poses a risk when I’m preoccupied, like reaching for a gallon of milk.
On a day when our usual store was too far, we found ourselves at the “mini-cart” store. Thankfully, we made it through the store with minimal fuss—until checkout time. Suddenly, my youngest bolted, zooming past several checkout lines, the customer service desk, and right out the double sliding doors into the parking lot. Not one person attempted to stop him. He sped by cashiers, an employee gathering carts, and numerous shoppers, yet no one intervened. Fortunately, my older son sprang into action and chased after him. By the time I managed to extricate myself from the cart and other obstacles, he was dragging my distressed younger son back inside.
In that moment, I felt a wave of disappointment wash over me. Where were the villagers? Why did no one step in to help? My child could have been seriously hurt. If I saw a child running toward danger, my instinct would be to intervene. He was within arm’s reach of so many, yet no one moved to assist.
Many of you reading this might be quick to judge. Why didn’t I leave my kids with a babysitter? Why couldn’t I control them? Let me assure you, I do my best, and my children are safe and well-behaved most of the time. But there are moments beyond our control. My youngest is particularly independent and sometimes too quick for me.
Since that incident, I’ve spent countless hours pondering the decline of our community. We live in a world where people fear offending one another, often absorbed in their phones instead of the environment around them. Everyone seems focused solely on their own well-being, worried about potential dangers. The world appears more perilous, even if the risks haven’t changed much; it’s just that we hear about them more frequently now, heightening our anxieties. Life has transformed, and I recognize that.
However, I implore you: if you see a child in a dangerous situation, don’t just stand idly by. Take action. Even if the parent reacts negatively, it’s far better for the child’s safety. Let’s work together to restore the sense of community. A village feels empty without its villagers.
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In summary, the essence of community in parenting has diminished, leaving many parents feeling isolated. The need for collective support remains crucial, and it’s essential to encourage one another to foster a safe environment for our children.