Little miss ...

I miss having a playground that is clean and functional. I miss my gym in Alice Springs. I miss the possibility of going to the movies. I miss going to festivals and events. I miss catching up with good friends for Sunday brunch. I miss the library. I miss catching up with friends in person.

There are a few things I miss. But mostly I can do without, quite happily, with  most of the things I used to do. Going out for coffee, wandering through the shops, seeing too many movies.

What I like about my current life is that it's pared back to essentials. A simple life is really the life I choose. When I'm too close to the centre of town, or right in the heart of the city, invisible tentacles of consumerism slowly creep and enclose. 

I think I have learned that I need to live just a little out of town, to make all the things that I do miss possible. The trick is leaving far enough away to avoid falling into the excesses of our culture. A little house, a little way away, with enough open space and nice flat bitumen road to town.

I'm not quite there yet, for I don't miss all those things enough at this point. But the day is approaching, and no doubt will be here quicker than I expect.

Share and share alike

Playgroup re-opened today in Warburton. Eleanor has been on the lookout for Anne (who runs the playgroup) for a while, and regularly comments as we go past "Anne's on holidays, she'll be back soon". Soon arrived at last, and playgroup started up again, linked to the school term timetable.

This post is actually about one 10 second moment in playgroup. A moment that speaks volumes about how people live their lives, and deeply embedded cultural values that pass on to children at a very young age.

As a pre-cursor to that moment in time, it might be worth mentioning that I spent a bit of time today secluded in the little cubby house. Eleanor was happy to have me in there, but fought off any other incursions with statements like "no, it's too crowded in here", or "we're already full" (it was just me and her), or "no stop touching the edge" (to a little baby just learning to stand, and having the temerity to put her fingers on Eleanor's cubby windowsill).

So the conventional wisdom is that children this age are developmentally not very good at sharing. I tried to encourage the sharing gene, with regular entreaties "Eleanor, they can come in, let's share" or pulling her hands away from the baby's fingers as she tried to prise them loose. At one point, I upped the ante by saying that I'd leave the cubby house if she didn't start sharing it. That sort of helped but it felt a little like emotional blackmail! The Aboriginal mums just laughed at Eleanor and remarked on how "bossy" she was. It was all good natured, but I do generally struggle with Eleanor not really playing well beside other kids. Still, it's an age and stage.

Or is it... so to 10 seconds of interest. Just as the morning tea and story was coming to a close, little Damiana - about Eleanor's age - burst into the room with her mum. Flash in her pink outfit and new shoes, she was ready for all that playgroup had to offer and morning tea was a good time to arrive. I'm not sure of the family connection, but little Tiawana (about 3 years), immediately motioned her to come sit next to her. Damiana sat down and looked about for something to eat. Tiawana moved her cup of milo closer to Damiana's knee. She didn't notice, so Tiawana tapped her on the knee and pointed at the milo. Without a word between them at any point since she arrived, Damiana picked it up Tiawana's milo and drank it, then looked around for what else was on offer.

This spontaneous unconscious sharing of your own food is something I have seen a lot over the past few year, but hadn't really thought about it until I saw it in mini replay. Cultural values so deeply ingrained that little kids Eleanor's age reproduce it exactly.

So is 'doesn't share well with others' really a developmental stage, or Western cultural values at work again? Is our propensity to own and hoard something that kids are in fact demonstrating in their 'playing beside' rather than 'playing with' behaviour? Developmental charts then become cultural by-products rather than scientific fact.

When you reach for a new cup to pour someone a fresh cup of tea (rather than sharing your own) are you in fact reinforcing cultural values of separateness and individuality. All part of the great Western way. Based on today's 10 second moment, it seems so.

Breaking the rules

Some light relief from all these intense posts about social justice and existential angst!

Sometimes, you just gotta break the rules to have the most fun...

That's my naapa (thing)

The house was starting to overflow with Eleanor's toys. With Christmas, a recent birthday and bursts of unnecessary purchasing on my part, new areas of the house were being colonised by multi-coloured plastic and wood in various permutations. I'm a bit of a neat freak. I also remember the 'pre-kid' days, entering houses of people with young toddlers and making slow work picking a safe path along the floor. As a result, I tend to spend a little time every day doing a small clean and organise. The toys, however, had got beyond that level of organisation. I did a big pack up and removed half of them from the living areas. They are now precariously perched on the top shelf of the study cupboard.

This constant need to manage our ever burgeoning pile of possessions has prompted a few thoughts of contrast with the toddler-life of the locals. Just yesterday I was struck yet again by a common response to possessive behaviour by Eleanor. While in the clinic at Pipalyatjara, visiting some clients, Eleanor saw their niece playing with her 'black baby' doll (a 2009 Christmas present from Blackstone Community). "Miiiiine, my black baby!!" she cried, immediately rushing to get it. The father present replied in an instant, "it's mine, my baby", smiling in claim. Eleanor looked taken aback, worried, clutching the doll closer. "Mine". "My baby", he replied, gesturing to hand it over, smiling still. Eleanor took the baby away for safe keeping. The irony of Eleanor taking a little black baby away didn't escape me.

This response is very common. Whereas we tend to rush in and reassure Eleanor that something is indeed hers, or negotiate with diplomatic tact of international quality when fights break out between cousins and (Western) friends, I have never heard local community members say anything close to the following: "How about you let Eleanor play with it for a little bit, then we'll play with it after... don't worry, it's yours, it lives here". There is one community member who calls out to Eleanor everytime she sees her at the shop, "my car Eleanor, my car." Eleanor will fall for it everytime. "No, Marcia, that's your car there." "My car, give me the keys", gently chiding her possessiveness. "No, it's oooour white car, ours". Then she'll turn tail and head into the shop, every step a righteous one.

I do not claim to know much about Aboriginal parenting styles and cultural values, but these little exchanges do regularly remind me of the constant value placed on sharing and common ownership. From the earliest attempts to assert individuality, little kids are encouraged to think about others around them. Our family - without even a thought to what we are doing - reinforce our possessive, accumulative inclinations. Without a thought too, no doubt, the community members reinforce common wealth in the family. Neither is better, just different. Deeply embedded in our world view, lasting well beyond the period of childhood amnesia. Mine. No, mine.