Common Sense

Untold joy abounds when one witnesses a baby taking its very fist drink of tuba and its first puff of a cigarette. Like the first few steps, the first indulgence in a vice is a symbol of the youth that will one day grow to maturity and individuality.

Little Jerome had his first puff yesterday when his grandma Rita stumbled drunk and smoking into my house, where Jerome and his mommy were visiting. In accordance with good and proper judgment, Rita put the cigarette in Baby Jerome's mouth and had a good laugh in the process. Later, as she was finishing her bottle of Black Wings – a vile alcohol that reeks of licorice and ethanol – she had the courtesy of leaving the last shot for Baby Jerome. Watching a child wince in disgust really is quite sweet. Surely his early exposure to alcohol is merely preparing him for four years of high school football games and four subsequent years of frat parties and initiation ceremonies...such a lucky child.

The first time I saw a baby drink was on my birthday, and since then, much like eating dog, the activity is commonplace. The educated American in me knows that alcohol and fags might not be entirely healthy for a young baby, but the burgeoning Filipina in me wonders what the real hurt is, if limited in quantity and frequency? No, no, I'm being serious now.

Americans have a, sometimes, too-great sense of danger and litigation. I have had a lot of time to reflect on the American's concern with child endangerment, among other things, and I am truly convinced that such a concern stems from bad parenting. Bad bad bad. We Americans are content to put our children under someone else's watch or in a crib or in the company of distracting toys and films. In essence, “distraction” is the key word – we do things to distract our kids from having family far away. Then, if something goes wrong, we can always blame the thing that went wrong, but not the ultimate caregiver – the parent.

I see kids here climbing trees and playing with knives and swimming unattended, and surprisingly accidents are less common here than at home. It seems that kids and parents of the Philippines know the consequences, but have no one to blame except themselves. Perhaps parents here wouldn't let their kids participate in certain activities if they didn't have faith in their child's own sense of judgment; furthermore, by allowing their children to have exposure to mild risks and dangers, kids are more apt to make good judgments and understand the risks. Ultimately, kids are trained to blame no one but themselves and have good judgment; likewise, the parents are too. It's okay to make a mistake, as long as you learn from it and fault no one but the one to blame, likely yourself. Difference between Americans and Filipinos: Americans can buy someone else's common sense (aka the Warning Label on the toy). Filipinos can't afford anyone's common sense but their own.

I'm not advocating children start practicing juggling chainsaws and eating dirty food from the garbage to toughen them up. I'm merely suggesting that paying attention and relaxing a bit might not be so bad. So baby Jerome smoked a cigarette and it was weird and shocking but strangely not disturbing. I laughed, albeit the kind of laugh that comes out when the dude walking in front of you makes a face plant on the curb. Mother, does this provide further evidence that I shouldn't have children?