Such a reaction from a younger viewer would not be surprising, however. As the movement celebrating "free-range parenting" demonstrates, giving kids freedom is not a new concept, though people somehow have to argue for its return. The cultural resistance to this kind of childhood liberty is pretty recent, springing largely from stoked-up fears about child abduction but also as a kind of generational reaction to what might be called a more "hands-off" approach to parenting in the 1960s-1980s. The children grew to become the parents they thought their own parents should have been, for better or worse.
Generation X is sometimes known as the generation that dealt with epidemic-level rates of parental divorce, but they (we) also grew up in a time in which parents were often exploring their own options and, perhaps in response to their parents' stricter parenting style, giving kids more freedom and the ability to explore.
This was not all bad. While there may have been times when we needed more guidance and supervision, we also learned to be independent and to take care of ourselves. We developed skills in things like cooking, shopping, and car repair. We learned to drive as soon as we could. There was certainly no need for a term like "adulting," which is not to say we were all mature or even all that together. (This was also the era in which things like PDAP were born.)
The fact that Nancy and Mike's father has no idea where his kids are is funny, but he would hardly be the only father in the neighborhood to be that nonchalant about it. It's an in-joke about the times, but it's also pretty true to reality. His reaction reminds me of the parents in films like Nightmare on Elm Street, where the terror originates with the misplaced revenge focus of parents who are otherwise out of touch with their kids as they indulge in their own passions. (In this same episode, Nancy's mom is drinking and talking on the phone.)
Allowing kids independence is not such a new concept, however, and not peculiar to the 1970s-80s. In my American Literature class, my students read an 1880s story by Ambrose Bierce called "Chickamauga." The story is ostensibly about a young boy playing in the woods who happens upon a Civil War battle. Without fail, there are always students in class who are primarily appalled or concerned about a young (fictional) child of about 5 who is allowed to wander off by himself! (The war itself is not as concerning as the safety of this young child.) I have to explain that children playing by themselves, even at such a young age, was not unusual at the time, and it's only in recent decades that we have come to be so panicky about childhood. (On the other hand, that is also an overstatement, as the Victorians had their own hangups and anxieties about childhood that manifested in other ways.)
Children have long been a staple of horror and suspense, of course, because we naturally fear the corruption of innocence and because the state of childhood is so unlike any other time of life. Bierce's story isn't primarily a horror story, though it can be read fruitfully that way if one chooses to dwell on the imagery, and it certainly is a story about the horrors of war. The whole thing reminds me of the way we tend to think other countries are more "dangerous" than America, even with our outrageous rate of gun deaths and other societal ills. Childhood is a kind of "othered" land, a place where we no longer live, so we naturally fear it (as well as idealize it) and consider it as somehow more dangerous or fraught with difficult than adulthood. Considering the previous prevalence of childhood disease and the basic responsibility parents have to protect and nurture kids physically, perhaps this is not surprising. Perhaps those parents in Stranger Things really are bad parents, and that's why their kids are subjected to all manner of supernatural trials. But those kids sure seem to be having a lot of fun even amidst all the danger.
No comments:
Post a Comment