Born into the toned core of suburbia, I grew up on an island in the middle of Lake Middle Class. Sheltered, shielded, protected, my transportation consisted of floating from one bubble to the next, always accompanied by a responsible parent and an abundance of snacks. Don't get me wrong, I endured my fair share of moderately cold winters, struggles of deciding which Costco entree to eat for dinner, stress running from one opportunity to another. But ultimately, my life consisted of a relay of attenuated privilege. Privilege reveling in the successes and hard work of my parents. Privileged and naively ignorant. Privileged in a way I didn't quite deserve, a way I didn't earn. Not to disregard the conveyor belt of obstacles I faced the less young I become, but as a child, as a baby of society I was well-nourished with resources, opportunity and support.
And I didn't know it. As far as I knew my experience was universal, my concerns were average. Because my stress derived from petty sibling rivalry and extracurricular activity performances. My world, no the world wreathed around whether my recreational basketball team won the city championships (of all 4 teams), whether I got a 3 or 4 in organizational skills on the quarterly report card. Superficial quantifiers comprised the weight of my burdens and weighted the quantum of my motivations. My brother receiving an inperceptively larger piece of chocolate cake was a clear message that he was more loved, the favorite child, and the only way my parents could tell me was by spelling out their subtle hints with the extra space on my plate.
The real irony reverberates through my current memories; as imperative as these childhood moments seemed, my memory of them blurs together, creating general montages of simple recurring feelings I know I experienced, but excluding and eliminating any individual instances. I remember the constant worry that my life would surely be doomed if and when it was outted that my parents truly cared for my brother more than I, but if you asked me to pinpoint a specific example the bank is empty, the library is closed. I couldn't tell you who won the city championships for Mercer Island rec league, or the total score of my elementary school report cards.
My concerns sorely, innocently but somewhat intuitively misplaced, through the successive years adding digits to the lone number range I gradually began disregarding these truly insignificant matters, and grasping a little bit of truth, a little bit of perspective. I could less care about the cake, in fact Tyler you can have the whole darn thing. The things I do remember is a biased highlight and lowlight reel, flagging the most essential moments influencing my being. While these vary in translucency, I've come to realize that my memories from youth may or may not have been originally sustained for a particular reason, but have evolved into sedimentary layers providing the foundation for supplemental growth.
1. Naps
It would be dishonest and neglectful to diminish my now profound appreciation for a mid-day refresh-sesh. But back in the day when naps were a mandatory activity scheduled into my daily routine, they were a constant source of rebellion. How was I expected to sleep on-demand? My boundless energy was far from capable of being tamed by coerced immobility, plus the concept alone of authoritative figures instructing my autonomous physiology only exacerbated my perpetual state of adrenaline. Although years later, with delicately terminal adrenaline stores, fatiguing simply at the remembrance of my previous life of exertion those disregarded moments, those remorsefully lost opportunities are snapshots of my photobook of nostalgia.
2. Free Time
Today, between the chaos of classes, practices, meetings, appointments, conferences, events, labs, homework, (and occassionally prematurely scheduled social time), free time is a rare, decadent treat. One I crave when encountering whiffs of it circulating the air around me, when I'm drowning in the stressfully organized sea of incessant plans. As a small child free time itself was the main scheduled event. But it stood for far more than time to decompress or time to take care of those errands nagging your to-do list for weeks. It was unrestricted opportunity to explore, to adventure, to imagine. I may have been 3-feet tall but any given day I woke up as a pirate sailing the seven seas, a princess in a distant castle, the world’s greatest soccer player in the world’s most anticipated championship match. Wardrobe and environment failed to constrict complete immersion into these fabricated realms, and the boundaries outlined at recess only redirected the exploration of unchartered territories. Though my creativity has dwindled without use, adventure and exploration are traits that continue to nourish my motivations and blueprint my passion, through the brief flashes of free-time I have now.
3. Innocence
Entering adulthood poses more than expected maturity, increased knowledge and responsibility. There’s an unspoken rule book of socially accepted conduct that astringes personality and individual expression more than it should. The direct questions that once flew when generated from an adorable, curious child suddenly become offensive, possibly a sign of poor character. Telling an old man with a beard what you want for Christmas transforms from cute, to disrespectful and slightly concerning. Taboo subjects become, well, taboo and questions are only vocalized after an adequate filtration process. Essentially, you lose the freedom to outwardly question the world and its policies. This restriction limits knowledge, and limited knowledge limits ideas. Ultimately, as a small child you have an all-access pass to the world's mind which adds more and more membership fees the longer you exist.
4. Endless support
In college your support system may always be "just a phone call away", but there's a remarkable distinction coming home every day to a mom who can bandage up a wounded limb or a dad who teaches you various soccer techniques, or a brother who will play Super Monkey Ball with you. All the petty arguments, the unwarranted fighting, the constant debate over who's right and who's wrong over the most indisputable topics, ending with everyone internally knowing they're right but everyone externally being so very wrong- they eventually seem so petty, so unwarranted. I can't recall what 90% of my childhood altercations consisted of, but even the smallest moments of playing basketball with my family outside, or going to my parents when I needed advice about the school bully are permanently etched in my memory. It was the small instances of support and encouragement and love that lifted my spirits, motivation and confidence after preceding setbacks.
5. The options for your future are endless
I was going to be the first professional soccer and basketball player to be a doctor on the moon. Figure that one out. One cliché wasn't enough so I felt impelled to combine any and all that I could grasp. As unrealistic as this ambition appeared to adults, teenagers, and frankly most classmates, it was real to me, because it was technically possible. Technically possible was plenty to inspire elaborate training regimens and schedule group meetings with my fellow aspirees. However, "possible" was slowly replaced with "unlikely" as career paths appeared to close based on skill sets, talents, and passions. There's an unbreakable promise nurtured to children that the only obstacle between you and "the dream" is the will to work for it. Most adults lose this notion sooner or later, or funnel it towards specific specialties. But as a child, you have the possibility to be whatever, whoever you truly desire to be.
Children possess the opportunities, the support, the freedom to do all the things we as adults must do, without the same set of utensils. Through my reminiscing of the stress-free days revolving around entertainment and pleasure, I realized that the reason I failed to fully appreciate such fortuitous aspects was because of their frequency; I was so accustomed to employing such liberties. Now, they come less and less often, granting them so much more power and influence and appreciation when they finally do. I'm appreciative for naps, free time, innocence, support and possibility of my past, but I now know how to properly seek it out in my future.
