Are we becoming a nation of paranoid parents raising wimpy kids?

OK, OK, maybe that’s an overstatement, but I’ve been watching some of my relatives’ children and their friends who can’t wander from their parents’ watchful eyes.

If they are out of sight, even for a second, panic sets in. A phantom predator or kidnapper is lurking in every nook and cranny of the mall, in every car that drives down the street, in every bush and behind every tree and disguised as every human who has the audacity to walk by.

And now, with a worldwide pandemic to deal with, worries over children’s safety have triggered the tilt meter on our level of watchfulness.

I mean it’s mandatory to be concerned about a child’s well-being, but, c’mon, give it a rest, and let’s keep things in perspective.

Compare the norms of today to the wonder and excitement of exploration we enjoyed as children. When my friends and I were 9 or 10 growing up in my hometown of Summit Hill, we were touring the neighborhood, even beyond.

Sure, during those long summer days, we had to check in with mom periodically, and we had better be home at noon for lunch. After lunch, though, it was back to the good stuff until supper.

Those were the summers that we played baseball on the street near my homes - East Hazard Street, then later on North Market. We used a piece of cardboard for home plate, curbs were first and third, and we usually found something creative that served as second base.

We explored the woods that surround the borough and had fun with the little critters that inhabited them. We even had improvised midafternoon picnics (usually a Snickers bar, Coke and penny candy I would take along from my parents’ grocery store).

We walked above an abandoned coal mine, taking delight at yelling to hear our voices echo back.

When we were a little older, we formed unofficial community football teams and would walk to Lansford and Coaldale (1 and 2 miles away) to take on their teams. We didn’t have biddy, midget or other official feeder programs, but, no problem, we were inventive. By the way, we played tackle football - not tag - and we didn’t use pads.

Today, children of that age are literal prisoners of the parental gestapo. “Why don’t you let them walk down the street to their friend’s house? It’s only a block away,” I innocently asked recently. “Are you crazy?” came the incredulous reply as the child is swept up into the family SUV for the minute-long trip. The return several hours later occurs the same way.

I recalled that as a 9-year-old, my friends and I started making trips to the swimming pool and movie theater in Lansford. Our parents didn’t transport us; we “bummed” a ride. We later found out the correct word for what we were doing is “hitchhiking.”

No one thought it was dangerous. In fact, after the 7 p.m. movie at the Palace Theatre, more than 40 or 50 of us who lived in Summit Hill lined up at the “bumming” corner, and virtually every car that was headed up the hill stopped to pick up two or three of us. In a matter of 10 or 15 minutes, the corner was empty.

Now, I’m not advocating that parents let their children hitchhike today. I realize times have changed in that respect, and some things are much more dangerous than they were when I was a kid, but our concern has gone over the top. As a result, we are turning our kids into terror-stricken snivelers who are afraid of their own shadows.

Sure, I understand that bad things can happen, but let’s be realistic. Let’s consider actuality vs. probability and act accordingly. Life is filled with potential dangers that must be recognized and dealt with.

Turning our children into paranoid cowards doesn’t seem to be a reasonable course of action. Naturally, we need to teach our children about safety and how to protect themselves, but let’s also give them more freedom to find the joys of childhood that are manifested through exploration and discovery.

While I am at it, parents need to re-establish their roles, which is not to be their child’s friend. A parent may yearn to be buddy-buddy with their child, but the parent must do functional things that the child may not like. It’s a parent’s job to set limits. This might mean that your child may resist your attempts, but setting limits is healthy, and you need to do it for your child’s sake. Limits are how kids learn to figure out what’s safe and appropriate.

By Bruce Frassinelli | tneditor@tnonline.com

The foregoing opinions do not necessarily reflect the views of the Editorial Board or Times News LLC.