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Lost Innocence

There is a regular feature on NPR’s morning edition called “This I Believe.” In it, they get different people, some random off the street, some famous people, to discuss their core beliefs and governing philosophies. Inevitably, these essays have ranged from insightful, overly sentimental, to loads of crap. I often just can’t stand to listen to it and turn it off. I think that you can claim an overarching theme to your beliefs, but often believe that we are all too often rather ambiguous to these and go against them often. Given time and the lack of monitoring, we would probably all disappoint. But in the end, I guess that I do have a core belief in the protection of innocence.

I believe that there is nothing more tragic than the loss of innocence. In particular, we hear stories of child soldiers in Africa, children raised in poverty that have to work at a young age and drop out of school, children who lose parents to war or drugs and are forced to take on new responsibilities themselves. We also see parents putting lots of pressure on their kids and give them very structured schedules to prepare them for the future, while not allowing kids to just be kids. I find this all very sad, and that we should do our all within our power to avoid these situations.

There is hope though. One of the things that I loved about the Harry Potter books was to see children across the world engrossed in these stories. They believed in magic. Even in parts of the world where this must be difficult. Is there really anything as sad (not including deaths) as the day that a child no longer believes in magic? In Santa Claus? I find that this often leads to the hastened disbelief in the goodness of mankind as well.

I have lived a very sheltered and charmed life in many ways. I feel like I was allowed to grow up without any direct knowledge of the harshness of life. We weren’t rich, we weren’t poor. I remember that my Dad had to leave town as a kid to find work, but he was always home on the weekends, and I believe that he ended up coaching me in every sport that I ever played, save football. My Mom was a school teacher, which meant our schedules often overlapped, but she also encouraged me to read. She must have some of this belief as well, because after reading Bridge to Terabithia, we started to screen my books. I was so upset at the end of that book because I felt this deep emotional bond with the characters, and to kill one off was incomprehensible to me.

I am perfectly willing to read a book or watch a movie and allow their fantasies to become mine. Because of this, I’m really a poor critic of movies as I’m watching. I rarely actively participate, but rather go along for the right trying to immerse myself in the world created in front of me. It’s probably why I love the Pixar movies so much.

The movie ‘Finding Neverland’ is one of my favorite modern movies. If you haven’t seen it (stop watching and rent it now, heck buy it now) Johnny Depp plays J. M. Barrie, the writer/creator of Peter Pan. The movie centers around Barrie’s relationship with a local widower (Ms Davies) and her five sons. His stories and efforts to create a magical world full of adventure with the children (especially the overly serious Peter) then inspire his writing of ‘Peter Pan.’ In one scene, as the mother is dying but refusing to discuss her illness with Barrie or the children, the eldest son (George) confront Barrie looking for help. As the scene develops Barrie recognizes “Look, the boy is gone. Somewhere during the last 30 seconds you became a grown-up.” As it is clear that George will be the one that must confront his mother to seek treatment. It is at once empowering, and sad.

In the end, Barrie tells the after party that Peter Pan is in fact the 3^rd son Peter Davies, to which the boy points out the obvious, “But I’m not Peter Pan, he is” nodding towards Barrie.

This has all been on my mind a lot lately. In 6 months, it will be my responsibility to protect the innocence of a child.