Sharon Mangas, née Drach, stands in front of her childhood home in Vincennes, circa 1958-1959. Photo provided.
Summer’s here and school kids are off and running. They have activities galore crammed into their two-month school break: summer camps, basketball leagues, volleyball practice, baseball games, vacations, art classes, theme-park visits…whew! And the siren call of screen-time beckons, too. Adults stay busy ferrying kids here, there and everywhere.
When I was a child, we had three months off during the summer. By the end of August kids of my era were bored silly and looking forward to school. Now that kids only get two months off and their summers are jam-packed with activities, there’s little time for boredom. But maybe a little boredom is what kids need.
I’m speaking from the perspective of my 74 years, but this Granny thinks boredom gives birth to creativity.
My childhood summers meant playing outdoors from sunup to sundown with a pack of neighborhood kids. No doubt the widespread lack of air conditioning forced us outside. I don’t remember air-conditioning at home until I was in junior high, when my widowed mother finally caved and purchased a couple of window air-conditioners.
Before AC, when my sisters and I were desperate to cool down on hot summer days, we first made sure mom was out of sight, then we opened the refrigerator and stood in front of it, letting the chilly mist envelop us. Of course, mother had a sixth-sense for refrigerator surfing, and I can still hear her yelling, “Girls, shut that icebox door, RIGHT NOW!”
My oldest sister loved writing stories when we were kids. Once she penned a play, and her cast was our ragtag gang of neighborhood kids. We created “dressing rooms” by throwing sheets over the backyard clotheslines, applied mother’s makeup to look our best and raided her closet for costumes. After all, we wanted to look like genuine actors and actresses in our “Summer Stock” production.
Public swimming pools were a mainstay of my youthful summers. Kids walked or biked to the pool, spending all day splashing and playing…heading home only after hunger overcame them and no one had enough energy left to swim another stroke.
The best thing about summers way back when? Kids made their own fun. Helicopter parents weren’t invented yet. Most families only owned one car, which the dad’s drove to their jobs, leaving moms—who rarely worked— without wheels. So, kids were left to their own devices most of the time. We settled our own fights, learning the art of negotiating through game playing. Older kids instinctively looked out for and protected the younger ones. It was rare for a parent to intervene when kids got into arguments. In fact, if a mom or dad did stick their nose into kid business, their child might end up ostracized—at least temporarily—and get called “momma’s girl” or “momma’s boy” by their friends. No kid wanted that label.
Summers changed by the time my sons were growing up. I tried to give them plenty of rope and independence, but there was a lot of pressure to enroll them in activities and for me to be a soccer mom. Most mothers were in the workforce by then (and had their own cars), so few kids were home during the day, anyway. Neighborhood kid-gangs were relegated to history.
The world’s evolving for the current generation of young kids, too. While I mourn that my grandchildren have less independence and more structured summers than me or my kids did, it’s not all bad. The good old days weren’t always good, and kids have many more opportunities today—especially girls. You’re up at bat, kids! Enjoy your summer!
Sharon Mangas is a Columbus resident and can be reached at sharon.d.mangas@gmail.com Send comments to kgephart@therepublic.com
