6/4/2021 13:50

Don't Tell Me What To Do

As I was biking up to the stop sign the driver in front of me was signalling someone to go ahead. It was a mother with 2 young girls riding young child vehicles, a wholesome family group waiting at the far left corner, a group to whom any driver would be prone to defer. Although, as the second in line, I had no voice in the matter.

The mother explained to the children that we were waiting and so it was OK for them to cross. The slightly older child waited for specific and explicit reaffirmation of that permission and then proceeded most of the way across. The slightly younger girl stopped at the curb line. The mother, caught between the two, also paused, then instructed the slightly older one to continue to the far corner, then turned back to encourage the slightly younger one, who then lost her footing (and the entire scooter) and came ot a standing stop a foot or so into the intersection.

By this time another vehicle was approaching the intersection from our right. That driver wisely chose to slow to a stop yards away from the opposite crosswalk.

The mother ... well, no need to belabor the story. You can imagine for yourself how many false starts, ignored directions, and tearful resistings it took to get both young children safely to the other side. Eventually the slightly older girl got her vehicle across the curb line and the mother used both arms to carry the slightly younger child to the same safe haven.

As traffic again moved past and around them the mother busied herself with convincing the slightly younger child that the world was continuing in its mysterious ways and that fear and crying were not a required response at just that time.

In actual reality we all learn at a very young age that having people tell us what to do is a certain prelude to the collapse of all good and predictable order.

Don't tell me what to do. I don't want my scooter rolling into the street without me and strangers in motor vehicles threatening my use of the crosswalk. I don't want a flurry of new and unforeseen instructions to correct a situation which apparently exploded entirely of its own, not arising from any act or omission of myself or a sibling.

As an adult I'm taller; I can see more of the situation at a time and so I can tell a different story of crossing the street. But when you tell me "Don't think. Just do what I tell you" I'm back standing on the curb with those 2 little children knowing that things aren't going to turn out well.


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