© Another Day in the Country
I sometimes think we’ve raised a generation or two of offspring with boundary issues — folk who aren’t clear about what is theirs and what isn’t, and where their right or responsibility begins and ends.
I do believe it is a parents’ first teaching responsibility to a child — what to touch and what to leave alone. In every way, it’s for their own safety. I remember when my little grandson was first confronted with the idea of a boundary. He was just learning to crawl and the first object of fascination was the electronic gadgets, blinking under the television.
“No!” came a big voice out of nowhere and Daginnr’s little hand stopped in mid-air. Then he looked around to see where the voice had come. Did he know these people? And he tried again. “No!” said the very loud voice. Being startled and becoming more fearful than the blinking lights were fascinating, he turned to play elsewhere. Lesson number one from Uncle Tim on boundaries.
There were a lot of places to learn Boundaries 101 at Grandma’s house, an unfamiliar spot. The rose bushes with their long, bounding tendrils were lesson number two. “Whoa, don’t touch those,” came the big, booming voice as the tender, little fingers reached out. Second try, he managed a grab at the end. Ouch! Lesson learned
When the basics are in place, boundary issues are a life-long learning lesson. I watch teachers in elementary grades teaching basic boundaries. At Centre Elementary School, where we teach art, they have a pledge that they say every morning. Before the Pledge of Allegiance to the country, they pledge to themselves and others, “I will not use my words or hands to harm myself or others.” There are adults who need to be reciting that pledge every morning and living by it. And wouldn’t the neighborhood, let alone the world, be a better place?
Meanwhile, I’m trying to teach basic boundaries to my chickens. “Forget it,” said Tooltime Tim. “They’re chickens, Pat.” But I haven’t given up yet. I’ve tried “distraction” which is the first thing we do with toddlers about to transgress. I’ve been doing “removal of the temptation” with my hen, Brown Betty. She was removed to the outside of the fence in the morning while her head healed from assault wounds.
On Friday morning, I let Brown Betty out and then sat on the deck and ate breakfast. Betty was happily scratching around in the dirt as I lowered my eyes. I then looked up again. What was that mass of brown feathers out there? Bigger than Betty, that’s for sure, and I ran from the back door and hollered, “No!”
As I exploded from the porch door, two chicken hawks and Betty exploded from the ground with feathers flying everywhere. Evidently, the hawks were young and inexperienced. They drew back their talons just long enough for Betty to escape when I yelled, “No!” There was lesson number one for the hawk youngsters and lesson number two for me on hawk boundaries or lack thereof. Lucky for Betty, they were beginners who evidently were arguing about whose turn it was to get the hen. Lucky for the hawks, I was qualified to use a gun.
Boundary issues, needing constant refinement, crop up everywhere — from who gets the middle of the bed to who took my keys. They even crop up in the political arena with “Did you ask to borrow my song for rallies or did you just assume it was yours?”
I guess it behooves us (my preacher father always loved that word, “behooves”), to check up on ourselves to see if our boundaries are properly in place and not infringing on someone else’s space. No better time to start than on another day in the country.