463. Happy Endings

I love happy endings. I always have. I like comedies. I don’t mean funny shows; some of them are good and some aren’t. I mean shows and books that move from disorder to order. That definition is what makes “comedy” the opposite of “tragedy;” tragedies move from order to disorder. Art is supposed to imitate life. Of course, theatre and literature can’t do perfect imitations, partly because ideally, both end before the lives of the audience end. But comedies do remind me of various parts of my life that I like.
Children tend to love happy endings, too. Some are learning earlier and earlier not to – to love what I consider grotesque and cynical art. But I know they start out wanting everything to end up okay; they want the orphan to be adopted by some loving couple, or the child who couldn’t see, hear, or walk to have a miraculous recovery. People who write and produce art for children are often less subtle than those who write for adults; subtlety doesn’t reach children as much as it reaches adults. But children can get it, too.
I have a friend who is quite familiar with Russian culture, and she tells me that my story “Who Cares?” is charming, but not at all like the Russian literature I was trying to imitate when I wrote it; it’s too positive. I’ve read a lot of Russian literature, and I disagree with her. In fact, my story was inspired by a story written by Fyodor Dostoevsky, reputed to be the king of gloom. Dostoevsky’s “Dream of a Ridiculous Man” is about a man who starts out believing that nothing matters, and grows, through a dream, to care about people. And “ridiculous” doesn’t refer to that caring.
Children’s negative and gloomy thoughts and moods have to be respected; if children are only allowed to show their sunny sides, they aren’t being allowed to be all they are. And I’ve seen adults scold children for not being totally cheerful, or ignore children’s problems. Those children have to go elsewhere to be heard, or worse, not be heard at all. And that’s not a happy ending.
When I’m in a good mood (which, so far, is most of the time), I think about the pleasant things that have happened, are happening, and will happen. I have two daughters I love, and they love me. I have many good friends, too. I’ve been doing my favorite work all my adult life – teaching. And I’ve also been doing my second favorite work for most of my life – making music. In fact, both can be done at once. I expect to stay involved in teaching and music for a long time, and I’m excited about that. My life has also had divorce, disease, and a few other problems. They’re just as real, and I have good friends who help me through the difficult stuff. Let’s try to be such friends for children.

Similar Posts

  • 322. Difficulty

    A friend of mine once took issue with the statement, “Nobody said life would be easy.” She distinctly remembers getting the impression that it would. Maybe adults don’t come right out and tell children that life is going to be easy, but they aren’t always completely honest about how hard it can be, and some…

  • 457. Professors

    One word I sometimes enjoy playing with is “professor.” I haven’t bothered to find out how the word came to mean what it usually means, but I enjoy thinking of a professor as one who professes. That is, it’s someone who professes to know and teach, but may or may not actually know and teach….

  • 102. Tutors

    Sometimes now, I tutor children. Good teachers in a good school do a good job, but sometimes parents want to make sure that their children get a little more instruction than they get in school. Or they worry that vacations will undo the good the school has done. So a child comes to me to…

  • 557. Learning to Share

    We teachers and parents do our best to get children to know how to share. Sharing is generally considered a good thing to do. According to Piaget, children start out egocentric. Piaget didn’t make a value judgment about that; he didn’t describe that egocentrism as a form of original sin. But he did observe children…