Child centred

Blackstone community playgroup

I was asked the other day, in the typically direct style of my manager, whether I was being 'child centred'. I was a little astounded at the time. Being child centred was exactly what I was doing.

The asking, however, alerted me to a singular fact. That my idea of the 'child' was markedly different. So different in fact that my discussion appeared to be about other people in the child's life, not the child in question.

I am happy I was asked the question, however, for that one point in time helped clarify something that has been exercising me of late.

To put it starkly, I have been quite concerned that perhaps I am spearheading an altogether new type of stolen generation. The generation that intervenes in the lives of children out of their best interests. That characterises their best interests in such a way as to make their current lives seem untenable.

That so tarnishes their everyday existence that almost any alternative has to seem better.

Does it sound familiar? Do we all, each in our own generation, make personal and community decisions with the best of intent that are fundamentally misguided. How will we look back on this time, with the benefit of hindsight from 2061?

Will the markings I make on indelible electronic records be scoured over with simmering outrage by future researchers, not even yet a faint possibility in their yet unborn parents eyes? (There is considerable optimism in this future forecast - the assumption of a world that continues to sustain historical inquiry as an endeavour both worthy and necessary).

In any case, assuming the world continues as it is, how will my small part in it come to be regarded many years hence?

I'm not preoccupied with my personal record, more my personal values. Is this action now, quite simply, right or wrong?

A wise guide once told me 'you just know, when it feels wrong'.This intuitive affirmation has been a useful lighthouse for me in many decisions. Working back from a wrong feeling to work out why, then coming forward again with a clear rationale.

Which leads me back to the original question. Was I being child centred? The wrong feeling I got was steeped in a profound sense of disadvantage. The voice of the family so quiet, so solitary, so unique as to be effectively inaudible in our perfect English conversation.

Yes, this is wrong. This child is with family, on country. Visible. In fact, more visible than many. The many we do not see who in fact need the brutal, scarifying light of our attention.

Instead, we turn to those who are least like us and ask about 'the child'. As if the child is somehow able to be considered separate from his parents, his culture, his community, his identity. As if the child can somehow be distilled down to an essential blood and bone, a statement of milestones and achievements and little else.

For discussing the parents is discussing the child. Discussing the community is discussing the child. The child is more than just that. The child is part of a bigger whole.

While I think there are times when the child's 'best interests' seems to outweigh all those people that in fact make up who the child is, the times when this are true in my world are rare indeed.