The world that Paris is growing up in is completely different to the one that 13 year old me inhabited.
Her days would be edged by constant cyber+stimulation were she to have her way.
I get that. In my day it was books. I read all sorts of tripe. And then it was writing. Ditto.
I also had a Japanese Cooking phase - it was the shelf up from the 700s in the primary school library. I had worked through that part of the library the Autumn just prior.
Unfortunately Paris has not yet had a cooking phase to any degree - the requirement for "cleaning up after yourself" equates to the requirement for "nagging her to clean up after herself" and it ends up being a pleasure for nobody. (She is not the daughter of "Princess Grot" - as bestowed by Mrs Leahy the school matron - for nothing it seems).
At 13 I was known for arguing any - and every - point. I would deliberately break the rules to argue the injustice of instilling such regulations. Yet they were always minor misdemeanors because (a) I was trying to expand the edges not shatter them; and (b) I am actually an absolute rule follower AS LONG AS the rule makes sense. I love the cocoon of righteous governance. It's a pity that there is no such thing as a perfect one.
Paris does not have such a chance because the rules in her teenage world have exploded by being controlled by the digital feed.
I wonder was there such a fuss when television came in?
The telephone?
Literacy?
The wheel?
6 comments:
I think each generation has had its fuel for the parental fire. Even my sister and I, fourteen years apart (with two brothers in between), had different upbringings. Of course part of that might have been my mother was "tired" by the time I was a teen and the home circumstances were different.
I get where your mother is coming from! Paris and 'Salina have 10 years between them and 'Salina didn't have anywhere near the distractions around her.
There is such a thing as perfect righteous govt.
Things have changed a lot, and social meadia puts pressures on kids that we NEVER had to deal with. I mean, yeah, we had the snobby, mean girls, but they never followed me home, into my house, into my bedroom.
I worry about William. You know who doesn't? William. He gets very cross with me and my controls.
Hello China. I beg to differ.
Same with Paris. Often with very disdainful tones. Silly mother.
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