Opened up and Shut down

   

   The sun was shining here in North Vancouver the other week. A group of us were sat outside the “Bean Around the World’ coffee shop in the early morning. It is easier to be socially distant and safe when a patio is open and the sun is shining. The three of us were chatting casually, enjoying our lively banter when Bo pulled up on his bike. He remained in his seat as his bike was propped against the planter immediately behind us . He stared at us with little expression, perhaps an inkling of slight disdain, maybe a hint of lordly superiority. Despite his aloof demeanour, something about him suggested charm below the surface so we tried to jog him into jolliness  We raised our hands in a welcoming wave, we manufactured our widest smiles, we talked in gentle, calm tones. Still we were received with bland insouciance. He remained apart from us. He had no intention in stooping to our level  of meaningless childish banter.  But then, Dear Reader, there was a moment. It seemed that Bo realized there would be no peace for him until he at least acknowledged our presence, made a passing gesture to our panderings. He metaphorically shrugged his shoulders. Slowly he raised his right hand,  languidly he gave us a wave, nothing too excessive and energetic, you understand, just an ‘if I must, then I must’ movement.  Then our day was suddenly brightened for his face lit up and he granted us the widest and broadest of smiles.  We felt honoured. We were relieved that he recognized something of worth in us. You see, Dear Reader, Bo had just turned one year of age. His mother joined his smile with the joy of love. His dad arrived bearing a couple of coffees.

      Here was a wee takker who had spent one quarter of his life with both parents in lockdown working from home. He lived somewhere in the Norgate area in a house with a garden. He had spent three months not having a pop tart thrust down his throat in an early morning rush to Daycare.  He had not been forced to wake up until he was ready. He had not joined any morning rush to work. Here he was with both parents strapped into his seat on the front of his mum’s bike. His bike helmet was tipped at a jaunty flirtatious angle. They were out for an early morning family bike ride. As they mounted their bikes and  prepared to leave, Bo turned back towards us and smiled and waved.  We do not know what transpired on their morning journey afterwards but there were benches by Mackay Creek down the road where coffee could be drunk. Stones could be thrown into the river. If there had been a puddle Bo could have jumped and splashed. Maybe they had bread crumbs and Bo could have spent time feeding  the local ducks and ducklings.  When they arrived home Mum and Dad could have spelled each other off in their working day, to give Bo some quality time, a healthy lunch, a gentle nap and so forth.

        What’s my point? It seems to me that out of this crisis has come opportunity for young children and babies like Bo. There is no need for them to be rushed anywhere or everywhere.  His parents have the opportunity to give him the best of starts in life, possibly a better start than if they had both been trying to manage him and their commute to work.

   In sharp contrast there is a single mother appearing on the TV. She is on the 14^th floor of somewhere in a poor English cityscape. She has two children. She has no money, nowhere to go, no relatives or friends to help. Her eyes are bagged and tired, her face is lined with worry and stress.  She sees no light at the end of the tunnel. She is beaten down, bored, broken and bereft. She needs the help of a daycare or a school or a grandparent even just for an hour, for a moment, for a relief. No such ship is appearing over her horizon.

Just as the world was coming to the realization that we are all in this pandemic together, it turns out that we are not. People are working together to find a vaccine, medical staff are battling to save lives,  economies have a vested interest in the health of their populations.  Finally the haves and the have nots are in the same boat. Except that they are not, Dear Reader, there remains great inequality out there. The children of the poor are not on the same level playing field as the children of the not so poor. The divisions for the beginnings of lives are becoming far greater. Sadly for the Bo and Bo Peeps of this world, their young beginnings are yet again not the level playing field which we wish for all of our children. Even at their early age this pandemic is creating haves and have-nots.  This may seem to be a pessimistic piece of script, Dear Reader, for which I should apologise. I do not,  however, see it as such because there have been so many examples of outstanding human beings who have started life in the direst of circumstances and yet have risen above their shut down beginnings and opened up towards outstanding endings. Bo is a lucky lad but somewhere is a dire circumstance, is a contemporary of his who may gift us the vaccine of vaccines which allows us never to have to go through this again.

The more things change, the more they stay the same. ‘Twas ever thus, Dear Reader, ‘twas ever thus.

             Stay safe.