E-mails to My Grandchildren

IS THE GLASS HALF FULL? Whether one sees a glass as half full or half empty is a cliché. Though it is an oversimplification, the question does reflect what is grossly observable in the personality traits of most people. There are those who, when faced with a decision to move into unknown territory, ask “why?” Others faced with the same situation ask “why not?” I was blessed with a mother whose own growing up had been one which allowed her spirit to bloom and develop an outlook on life that remained optimistic in nearly all circumstances. Even when my father was hospitalized for nearly two years with tuberculosis, she cared for the needs of my brother and me with unflagging optimism about the future. She was the one who taught me to put emphasis on the “why not” aspect of life evaluation. The woman, who mothered me, came into my life when I was just three years old. Florence Wells, Flo, an elementary school teacher with the New York City School system, had spent her own childhood in Hampton Bays, Long Island, a small community about seventy miles from New York City. Her father had owned the local drayage business that in the early 1900’s was horse powered. Her stories of youthful freedom and adventure, of riding horses from her father’s business over the back roads and along the shores of nearby Shinnecock and Peconic Bays, were a part of a nightly “tell-me-a-story” time. She brought to that marriage and to her happy, practical assumption of my care and nurturing, an approach to life that could be summarized as “Let him do it. He’ll soon find out if he can or not”. She told me later, when my letter came to them announcing that I had had all of farm life I could stand for one summer and was off to join the Ringling Brothers, Barnum and Bailey Circus and would write to them again about where I was, she told my father to relax and see how I managed the experience. She was willing to let me try, assuming that the circus, while not the usual environment for a sixteen-year-old boy, could be a positive experience. And so it was. In the nearly three weeks that I worked as a circus hand, I made friends, had self appointed protectors, thrilled to riding circus wagons from the train sidings to the circus lot in small and large cities and towns, mingled with performers, animal trainers, clowns, freaks and workers, worked hard, risked dangers without ill effect and generally had a terrific time. One of the most important things I learned is that I had protection from sources I never knew. Not only did my boss, Scotty Horsebrough, an old time circus hand watch out for me, he told the porters in the sleeping car where I shared a bunk with Scotty to make sure I was not robbed, not molested, not interfered with in any way. And they did. The men who were the professional electricians while I was with Ringling were all gay. It was during WW II and they had not been drafted so they were able to do the work they enjoyed. A sixteen-year-old inexperienced boy, as I was then, could have been raw meat to a group like that, but I wasn’t. I was seriously propositioned a couple of times early in my circus experience, offered money for oral sex, but one particular young electrician stopped that cold. He told me later he had told the others that I was too young, to leave me alone. After that I was not propositioned nor was there ever any hint of any sexual invitation in my daily work around this group of openly gay young men. Innocence is in most cases a protective shield. Horror stories exist and I do not doubt that there are those who take advantage of innocence. But generally speaking, as a species, we act communally to protect the young until they have reached a point at which discretion is assumed. The overall application of this wisdom has been diluted by population growth. As our numbers increase and we are herded closer and closer together in our living conditions, we seem to have lost some of our natural inclination to look out for each other. As a society we seem to have lost a lot of what I remember as community caring for each other. That used to exist and it hasn’t been that long ago. In the community in which I grew up, I can remember women I scarcely knew telling me, “David Nagle, that’s not a good thing for you to do. You wouldn’t want me to tell your mother about this, would you?” I was a part of the village it takes to raise a child. The village looked after me and I knew it. Today, our society has decided that instead of taking care of the children, it is more important that both mother and father work to bring in the money to buy the goods that makes the U.S. economy purr. Neither mothers nor fathers are around as once they were. Children are frequently left to their own childish devices. The opportunity for the unscrupulous to take advantage of children has increased. The natural protections for the innocent that insulated me have, I fear, mostly disappeared. The circus experience I had sixty-nine years ago might not be possible today without more risk. But risk and the acceptance of risk are always relative. While the possibility of danger might have increased, young people of today are much more aware of the world than I believe I was at age sixteen in 1941. Life without risk is not possible. Managing risk is a part of living. Living smart means keeping up with the information flow about us and our environment. The electronic revolution, which everyone over the age of six seems to have tapped into today, allows the aware child to have far more good decision making tools than similar aged children of even thirty years ago. With those new tools, even without the village to help in the care and nurturing of young people, we can all have a greater chance of success in nearly every decision we make about all aspects of our lives. So risk. Get the facts together, take a look around and risk. If you look at life as a glass half full rather than half empty, life is likely to be much more fun. Life is also much more likely to offer satisfaction in the living if you simply ask why not instead of why? See the glass of life as half full! Then fill it up from there.   