This morning unexpectedly developed into, not only a teaching moment, but a reflection on loss of childhood. The rescue of a 4 inch long caterpillar from a group of boys on the playground set the whole circus in motion. He/She was beautiful: turquoise on the bottom – with sticky little feet; burnt red with orange stripes on top. The boys, doing what many boys do with small wiggly things, were going to kill it – a tenth grader to the rescue. My momentary Sir Lancelot brought the caterpillar to the office at 7:20am with a whole contingent of students in tow. His motives were questionable, as there was a general consensus that I would be afraid of the caterpillar since I am a girl. Needless to say, when I picked it up there was a general uproar of “no ways,” “OMG,” and the requisite squeals, oohs, and aahs. Most high school girls refused to come close; many ran away, and only one young lady maintained her ‘tugg’ status and touched the wiggly one. Of course, many of the teen boys played thuggish; but few would actually come close enough to see its beautiful coloring much less touch. One eighth grade boy finally worked up the nerve to let ‘IT’ crawl on his hand…………….it almost turned into rescue number two for the morning when its legs actually began crawling and wiggling on his skin…………

I was trying to understand why they were all so nervous of such a small creature and not afraid of knives, guns or sex; they all said it was because they had never seen a caterpillar that big before…………..ignorance was definitely not bliss in this moment. Outside I went, followed by my timid cavalry to show all the students coming in the school gate the fearsome caterpillar. Strength was found in many tiny students this morning. Many 5, 6 and 7 year olds came close enough to see and to hear about how caterpillars turn into butterflies; and if you kill caterpillars, there are no butterflies. It took a brave third grade girl to be the first one to touch the BIG, BAD caterpillar……………everyone was so impressed. She learnt quickly that the caterpillar is very soft and not slimy. Another teaching moment: caterpillars do not have bones inside; therefore, they are softer than babies. Not to be outdone, other kids now begged to touch the caterpillar gently. Many of the girls were tougher than the boys. K5 thought it was ‘too cool’ to touch its stripes. Parents stopped and stared; some fled in panic; some squirmed worse than the kids; however, a few actually stopped and remembered a childhood when there were caterpillars and butterflies filling our backyards on this island. Some even got their preschool aged kids out of car seats to see a BIG caterpillar; some saying their child may never get another chance to see one that big. The mini-me’s were fascinated; not yet spoiled by society’s conventions they all decided it would make a big, pretty butterfly one day.

I thought back to my childhood and the hours spent outside playing in the grass. Chasing butterflies and catching caterpillars to show daddy when he came home from work. Lizards, running up tree trucks and posing tough to scare us off, filled hours of time. Of course, after telling us all the things we wanted to hear about our prowess, our tiny captives were set free to live and to be chased another day. The saying that God protects fools and children was proven on one hot summer day when I caught a jar full of black widow spiders and waited for him to come home to show off the spiders with the red ‘hearts’ on their bellies……………My mom almost had a heart attack that day. But my tiny prisoners never bit me even when caught and put in that glass jar. Such memories came back this morning while watching children afraid and unknowledgeable about nature’s various beauties. Growing up, we weren’t afraid to play in the yard or crawl through the bush…..my brother used to make forts and castles in the empty lot down from our house. My great aunt took us walking around Seabreeze long before it was so developed, and we would find snails of all sizes, fill sand buckets with them, and take them back for my grandfather and grandmother to see. They were beyond ecstatic at the thought of having a mounting population of snails let loose in their backyard. (I think they told my great aunt a decidedly different opinion and my grandfather’s garden died a suspicious death that year due to disappearing leaves). We weren’t afraid to drink from a garden hose, to walk barefoot in the grass, to pick up a starfish in the shallows ……………………or to touch a tiny (BIG) caterpillar in a school yard.

I asked myself again this morning……what childhood are we bequeathing our children???? A childhood of violence and sexualization, school stabbings and gang fights, child pornography and child prostitution, locked in a house with a computer for company…………………..something seems so desperate and empty about the legacy we are leaving to this generation.