Lost Innocence

Winslow Homer, “Snap the Whip”, 1872, oil on canvas, Butler Institute of American Art.

Winslow Homer, “Snap the Whip”, 1872, oil on canvas, Butler Institute of American Art.

Winslow Homer, one of the most renown 19th-century American artists, painted Snap the Whip, one of his most most beloved paintings, only a few years after America’s horrific Civil War. Children are depicted playing this game in front of their small, red schoolhouse. They are pulling and tugging one another with fun abandonment. Their faces are illuminated by the soft light peeking through the clouds. The landscape—the mountains, the trees, the flowers—are tangible. The painting speaks pure innocence and simplicity.

Growing up in the 1950s and 60s, though a century later, I remember playing kickball, hide-n-go-seek, and tag in the cul-de-sac where I lived as a very young child. I remember roaming acres of trees and streams playing Tarzan with my brother. I spent hours crawling through sewers, never wondering what small varmint could be crawling around in there!, or worry if someone was hiding out from the police. I could ride my bike all day with friends with free abandonment, knowing I just needed to be home by dinner. I felt no fear. My parents felt free to give my brothers and I free rein to explore and play.

Today schools are surrounded by gates. Security systems have been placed in many schools nationwide. Children can never go on a bike ride without their parents knowing exactly where they are at every moment. A child must be accompanied by an adult when trick-or-treating.  A child no longer has freedom to simply “be” a child. 

I’m hopeful that this won’t forever be the norm. That the current climate of fear and apprehension gives way to an air of optimism and freedom. A chance to let our children experience the world around them on their terms. Yes, safety is important, but today, there seems to be a thin line between protecting our kids and holding them back.

Life with Corinne

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Yes, I had a privileged childhood growing up. My dad was a very hard-working man who did very well financially. He worked 24-7. My brothers and I had the finest education any child could have ever hoped for. We had opportunities most people simply dreamed about. And I was able to pass the same along to my son and daughter. I am not embarrassed or ashamed of how I was raised— sure, no parent is perfect and there were plenty of challenges and disappointments growing up—but my mother and father taught us respect for ALL people, no matter one’s race, faith, color, gender, political leanings, etc…

The dearest person in my life was a Black woman named Corinne who helped raise me until I went to college. Though she has been gone for years she remains in my heart as my guiding angel. She had dignity. She had faith. At that time, her job prospects were extremely limited, being a maid was all she could be, despite her level of education. I can only imagine what she could have been in today’s world—maybe even our president!!! Living in Memphis, TN I witnessed the aftermath of the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr. Our city was shut down. Strict curfews were set. At the age of 14 at that time I could not comprehend it all. He was a very peaceful man with a vision of hope. My parents respected him. I clearly remember my dad telling the Black members of our staff how very sorry he was, how inexplicable his assassination was.

I grew up with truly remarkable people around me. Each one helped mold me into the person I am today. I am proud of who I am. I am not ashamed. Let’s all come together and do our part in helping make America the beautifully diverse and accepting nation it truly can be!

For more on my story and life with Corinne, I encourage you to read Smell the Raindrops. Though it’s a book I wrote more than two years ago, its themes of racial injustice, healing and reconciliation resonate now more than ever.