Yesterday the principal came on the horn for the morning announcements. Along with all of the usual business such as the lunch menu, schedules for choir, and so on, he ended the session with a warning about taking food onto school buses. He reminded the students that there is a rule against food on the bus. And then he said, “It’s a safety thing. The bus might suddenly stop, and someone could choke.” I laughed out loud. I couldn’t help it. Then, because I am a heretic by habit, I said to the kids, “That’s not the reason! It’s because of the trash everyone leaves on the bus.”

For several years now, I’ve noticed that adults use safety concerns to justify their directives to kids where respect is really the issue. As in, “Don’t kick each other, it’s not safe.” Or, “Please ( I hate that word when it’s followed by a command) don’t climb on the bathroom stalls, you might fall and hurt someone.” I told the kids - and the older I get the more I preface my stories with: “When I was your age (recognize that?) safety wasn’t even invented.” They look a bit worried. (Huh?) Then I said, “I was allowed to take off from home in the morning and be gone all day long withhout anyone knowing where I was.” A quick-witted little boy responded, “But there wasn’t as much danger then.” True enough.

I wonder, though, how these safety messages affect the kids. And everyone else! Here’s the big question: Isn’t the Homeland Security Department like the mother of all mothers? Since 9-11 the American public has been cautioned into compliance with an unprecedented assault on our rights to privacy. Instead of learning to live bravely in a dangerous world, we are being programmed with health advisories and safety alerts, and searched in airports. The safety discourse will produce a fearful - easily controlled - population. Kids are getting this message from a young age, and are being taught that danger is the reason to respect authority. Meanwhile, popular media bombards us with graphic imagery, suggesting that the world can be every bit as deadly as we’re told.

When my kids were all little, I handed them scissors and pins while I changed their diapers. It kept them from squirming around because they were fascinated by these “forbidden” tools. And taught them about “Sharp.” I also invited them to touch the woodstove when it wasn’t too hot so that they could feel it when it wasn’t dangerous. I wanted them to learn about danger without scaring or hurting them. I wanted them to trust me to look out for them, but not out of fear. Love and respect are the rule in my house. We recognize fear as a danger in itself. Danger has been a fact of life for as long as humans have been around. The simple fact is that there’s shit out there that can get you. And sooner or later it will. Guaranteed. We can use danger to live bravely. Danger and risk has always been a part of living.

All day long after that announcement I justified my directions with, “It’s a safety thing.” As in, “Pick up that pencil off the floor. Someone could trip.”