Eleanor Deckert
Do you ever look at a small child and ask, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
Do you ever wonder if is possible to observe a child, listen to their self-talk, watch them play, notice what they find fascinating and try to predict the answer?
Nature. Nurture. Possibilities. Limitations. Opportunities of all kinds some along. “The world is so full of a number of things….”
Some cultures, families and education systems have tried it. By assigning a child a role from an early age, providing training and “experts” making arrangements, people have attempted to bring about a better economy, stimulate careers and reduce work-place dissatisfaction.
Science fiction stories expand on this idea to extremes.
Still, it is something to ponder. Is there anything in the early child’s developmental preferences that would follow through consistently as the youth voices his/her ambitions which would accurately forecast the adult’s career success? And, if so, what can the caring parent do or not do to provide for their children? After all, every parent who pays for hockey equipment, piano lessons, summer camp, even chooses gifts and toys is hoping that “behind Door Number 3” is the attractive “something” that will stimulate curiosity and focus the young mind to strive and achieve.
I can tell my own story.
Age three: I taught my younger brothers Bible stories while looking at the illustrations. I still do that.
Age four: I directed my first play, “Peter Pan” in the back yard with my siblings and cousins and costumes and narration. I still do that.
Age five: I came home from my first day of Grade 1, dragged a large piece of cardboard to write on, rolled logs to sit on and insisted my siblings sit quietly while I taught them how to read. I still do that.
Age seven: My Dad let me use his typewriter and I composed my first story. And look! I still do that!
For your amusement and my embarrassment, I share this early literary attempt with you now. (Spelling and punctuation is left as I did at age seven.)
“The Big Bird”
Once upon a time there was a big bird he aced like the king becas He bosed every boty around arouned. Now there was a tiny bird he bosed the big bird around. The big bird caled the tiny bird a pesed wenthis ha pend. One day the tiny bird gathered a hole flok of tiny birds then one day thay all swooped down on the big bird.
OWWWWWWOW Yelled the big bird and floo out of the big wood. And never came bake agen.
And the tiny bird live h a pp ly ever after.
TH E END
It seems to me that it would have been pretty easy to predict my future, including the poor typing!
