116. Home

There’s no place like home. Home is where the heart is. Home, sweet home. But for many of us, home isn’t what it once was. As I was growing up, I lived with my two parents. We moved four times as I was growing up, but we lived in one house for ten years, and to my brothers, my sister, and me, that place still seems like home. Neal Marlens, the guy who later grew up and produced “The Wonder Years,” lived next door to us, and I was one of his babysitters. So that nostalgic TV series meant something extra to me.
Since I moved away from my parents, I’ve lived in thirty-one other places. That may be above average, but I don’t think it’s out of the ballpark. I’ve moved because of job changes (both mine and my wife’s), divorce, landlord problems, neighborhood problems, and occasionally, the availability of a genuinely better place to live. There were many times my wife and I longed for a place that we could call “home,” but like many people in our generation, we had no such luck.
My daughters did live in one “home” for over ten years, but they can’t go back there now; some strangers live there. And though I sometimes drive by the place where I lived from 1955-65, just to reminisce a little, strangers live there, too. I can’t go home again.
I suspect that twenty years from now, not too many of you will live where you now live. And those of you who do probably won’t build a house for your child on the back ten acres. Times have changed, and we’ve got to face it.
What does this mean for children? Where are they going to find the stability they need? Part of the answer isn’t very cheerful. Most of them aren’t going to have the kind of stability many of us had. If they started out with two parents, they may not end up living with both of them at the same time. They probably won’t be able to visit the place where they were born; other people will probably live there.
Maybe, not knowing what it’s like to stay in one place, they won’t miss it. Maybe the last generations to have consistent, stable homes won’t pass on the consequent nostalgia to their children. But there is a home we can give our children that is more important than a house or traditional family structure. As our children grow up and face the challenges of their futures, maybe we can be their homes.

Similar Posts

  • 226. Celsius

    Teachers were told, quite a while ago, that we ought to teach children to use Celsius, because we’d be switching to it soon. I thought it would be a difficult transition, but I didn’t know how steadfastly our country would cling to our way of measuring temperature, even as the rest of the world left…

  • 367. Greener Grass

    Did you ever find yourself wishing your children or parents were more like some other children or parents you’ve seen? We’re not supposed to think that way. We’re supposed to appreciate the people we’ve already got, and if we compare at all, our family is supposed to compare favorably. We’re supposed to feel lucky that…

  • 15. Kinderlieb

    Love, one of my favorite words, has too many meanings. I’m going to have to invent a word for what I’m talking about in this article. Kinderlieb. It’s the kind of love healthy adults have for children. It’s the kind of love that inspires a lot of good parents, teachers, daycare workers, pediatricians, and more…

  • 583. A Little Hindsight

    Almost immediately after I wrote “Grievances,” I got feedback from several parents and teachers on my e-mailing list. Some thought that Ellen, the teacher, had done the right thing – listened to children’s thoughts and feelings. Others thought that she should not have allowed that discussion to take place the way it did – that…

  • 416. Choosing a Strategy

    Teachers develop vast repertoires of strategies for helping children learn. They get those strategies from courses they’ve taken, books and articles they’ve read, teachers they’ve observed, their own thoughts, and countless other sources. Some of those strategies make their way into plan books, but you can’t plan everything; sometimes you just have to teach by…