What do we tell the kids?

by: Rayne

Fri Sep 25, 2009 at 10:21:15 AM EDT

It was a fairly typical Monday morning, everything proceeding in a ritualistic fashion. My son had assumed his usual perch in front of the television, munching away on his bowl of cereal while watching the local morning news.

I'd already been listening to local news on my clock radio before I came down to get caffeinated and insert myself into the morning. Talking heads droned about more irrational and unexplained violence on Sunday, a household shot up.

And a nine-year-old child dead, shot in his sleep.

It was a report on the local television station which stopped the steady chug of cereal to his mouth. My son turned and asked me, "Did you hear about this boy, killed in his bed?"

Yes, I'd heard. And I could hear the question his eyes asked me, punctuated by a furrowed, worried brow, while watching the despair on the face of the local prosecutor on the television at the same time.

"It's a very sad story, this should never happen to kids. But you're going to be okay, you'll be just fine today at school."

And the shuffle of cereal from bowl to mouth resumed, and he went about the rest of his morning routine, believing what I told him.

But you and I know that I lied to him. I've failed him.

I just haven't confessed this to him yet.

I've busted my hump all week, working until the wee hours on social media and research and whip lists, to try and encourage other citizens to call their legislators to stop this train wreck of service and program cuts which have made me a liar since Monday morning when those trusting brown eyes looked into mine for assurance.

What am I supposed to tell him? That our legislators are less mature and grown up than he is, that I'm not powerful enough to get my point across, that our democracy no longer works to protect the least among us?

If state senator John Pappageorge's proposed double-digit cuts to revenue sharing are passed, there will be even more grim news stories greeting my son not Monday morning but every morning. My son will know that he's not safe at school, because he can't even depend on adequate supervision and security at his school if the proposed K-12 cuts go through.

I could go on, but you get the drift. I've been doing as much as I can to make my words of assurance a reality.

But it's not up to me alone. It's up to you as citizens, up to you as legislators, up to you as governor, if you are reading this, to provide a safer place for kids including my son.

We've already failed one child this week. There can be no bigger, deeper failure.

Let's not fail any more of them.