
Writing about the way things used to be “in the old days” may a bit hackneyed but here I go. I’m not talking about my childhood when, yes, I drank from a hose and rode bikes with the neighborhood kids until dark. I am thinking about the way things used to be when my son was a kid. . . way back in 2014.
There are a few awkward days just after the end of the year when you have to be at work, but kids’ summer camps and activities have not begun for. But I work at a school! There’s a playground, a gymnasium, a library and air conditioning! Son, you’re coming to work with me. Oh, and why not bring the dog.
I work at a gem of an independent school. It’s in a rural town on the Eastern Shore of Maryland and the school, Kent School is located alongside the Chester River. It truly is school the way school is supposed to be.
My middle school aged son and dog are with me on a hot day in June. My colleague brought her middle school sons and dog with her to work as well. Three twelve-year-old boys and two retrievers. These are the ingredients of the Tom Sawyer Days. Shooting baskets in the gym lasts for about thirty minutes. The playground, maybe thirty more. The library, no way! By 9:30 a.m. they are bored. The river calls. As a school administrator, I know this is expressly not allowed. As a parent, I do something that could get me, and these kids in trouble. I turn a blind eye. And the Tom Sawyer Days begin.
What could possibly go wrong? Spoiler alert, nothing went wrong. These kids experienced total freedom that day. I do not know all the details of the day because remember, I turned a blind eye. I do know that they fished successfully, catching catfish and a skate that gave a good fight. They were thrown back. The boys swam when they got hot. They jumped off the dock, another rule broken. And I am pretty sure they jumped off the roof of the boathouse on that dock. If I was there, I would have forbidden it with my stern, mean mom voice. I am so glad I was not there to steal that thrill of a 15-foot plunge into cooling waters. Yes, someone could have gotten hurt, or someone could have reported them for trespassing. That didn’t happen and they are left with an indelible memory of a childhood adventure.
Way back in 2014, turning a blind eye was an option for parents. I wonder if it is now. Parents have grown accustomed to knowing what their children are doing every minute of every day. I’m not judging them. Families were all together practically non-stop since March of 2019. It’s hard to unknow that habit of constant contact topped with a healthy dose of constant worry about their well-being. Instead of the gift of turning a blind eye, it’s more like a constantly watchful eye for parents now.
I am so grateful for the simplicity of that day spent unsupervised; fishing, swimming and yes, trespassing. Tom Sawyer days are a rare gift and that is the sad ending to this story.
Note: I began this essay before the Uvalde school shooting which stole the lives of 19 children and two adults. I put the finishing touches on it in the days after it, thinking more deeply about the gift of childhood. Tom Sawyer Days seem simultaneously frivolous and monumentally important.

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