Woodlot Manifesto, Part III

I want my kids to know grander things than trying to get the attention of their peers. I am afraid that if all I ask of them is what everyone else does (you know—good grades, make some trophies, try not to get beat up), then that is all they will do.

I want my boys to be aware of the world around them and to be good husbands some day. Let’s be honest, that means chores—not video games.

I want my girls to know that, all the helpful fashion tips to the contrary, fashion magazines are not their friends. I hope that in raising them close to their needs, close to the realities of the natural world and adulthood, they will see the glossy admongering and know it for what it is.

Teamwork (which a lot of farm jobs inevitably are) is a bright ray of hope for the socially awkward among us. One day I realized that hanging out with people just to hang out is fine enough, but mentally exhausting. You keep trying to pay attention to what folks are saying and thinking of the right thing to say yourself, sit right, and balance the cup in your hand between appropriately-timed sips, all while trying not to look at your shoes. Too much work. The easiest way to be with people is when doing chores, hand-work, which a farm supplies in dazzling abundance and variety. Muscling hay around, there is time to talk. The job itself gives you plenty to talk about if you can’t think of anything else. When the inevitable breaks in conversation hit, it’s alright—there’s nothing awkward or snubbish about throwing the next guy a bale or two in silence. And when the day’s over, nobody’s left with the hope that they weren’t being a drag on their hosts or the other guests or just plain wasting everyone’s time, because a job is done and it’s clear that the world is better off for them all having been there.

Lots of people seem to fear the countryside as the Dwellingplace of Ignorance. You have to admit, there are a lot of losers out in the boondocks—but how many of them are actually growing anything on that land? Idleness and smallmindedness happen wherever the idle and smallminded are—show me a metropolis without them.

Someday I’ll have to tell those kids of mine to live their own life and not listen to everything their peers say is Good or Smart or Cool. “Why not?” “Because they don’t know everything, and it’s your life anyway.”
In an interesting parallel, a lot of people think we’re foolish for wanting to farm, which causes some alarm and second thoughts. But we’re doing it anyway because it’s what we want and certainly is no moral evil. Otherwise, what is the good of raising a child to make their own decisions if you clearly don’t think that’s really a good idea?

Never liked TV that much anyway.