AC and a friend dashed into the house, grabbed a laptop, and zipped out front into the grass. They were (she tossed over her shoulder on the way out) writing a letter to the President:
Dear President Bush,
We may only be fifth graders but we are well aware of the current issues. In fact, we have our own opinions about the war, the gas situation and the nuclear testing in North Korea.
When our parents were young, the United States claimed to be, “Low on oil”. Yet today, about 30 years later, we are still, “Running out of oil”. Our idea is that the U.S. needs money. We think the U.S. government is conning America. How can we be out of oil for 30 years? Why is the cost of oil still high? We think it could be that we, meaning the U.S., need money because we spent it all on the war.
[…]
We like our ideas, and they’re reasonable. We aren’t in the mood for World War Three. We like our lives just as they are. We already might be going towards another Great Depression. We like being able to buy nice clothes, living in a nice house affording food, and going to great schools. Please consider our ideas wisely.
Polimom loves being a parent.
Since I haven’t a clue where some of those ideas came from, AC’s clearly achieving a healthy mental independence. The best I can do from here on is listen, discuss, provide other angles and perspective… and hope that the foundation I’ve laid is solid.
There’s more going on here, though, than the developing mind of a child.
This was AC’s second missive to the current Head of Household on Pennsylvania Ave., and the difference between that first one and this is astounding — not just in grammar and construction, but in tone. She’s beginning to understand that her opinions and ideas are part of the American political process, and Polimom is grateful to the flunky unsung hero in a small, crowded office that responded to her the first time. Thanks to that anonymous individual (who no doubt spends ten hours every day responding to American children), AC was encouraged into further participation.
This second letter also tells me that however badly the adults are currently fouling things up, there’s going to be a tomorrow. AC and her friend still believe they have a voice; they write, not to a teacher or a senator or a governor, but to the top guy — and they expect an answer (you’ll have to trust me on this).
We’re in a very difficult time, and it’s easy to despair; certainly Polimom’s worried. But as long as our children believe, not just in tomorrow, but in the American process itself, we’re going to be okay.
Eventually.
*smile*
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