It’s a familiar adage that to raise a child, it takes a village. Growing up, I often heard this saying from my mother and her friends. It resonated with me because my mother had a close-knit group of friends and neighbors. While she and my father were our main caregivers, they relied on their community for support in times of need.
On my school registration forms, after my parents, our emergency contacts were typically our neighbors. During outings, other parents would step in and address any inappropriate behaviors. A collective effort emerged among parents to ensure all children were safe; they would caution kids not to run on slick surfaces or to sit down instead of standing on picnic tables. My mother taught me how to soothe a fussy baby in public or lend a hand to another mom juggling too much. Parents collaborated in a supportive community.
Fast forward thirty years, and as a mother myself, I’ve come to realize that this supportive community seems to have vanished. Where have all the villagers gone? Occasionally, an older individual may assist me when my child is upset, but more often than not, I’m met with disapproving stares as others walk by. It feels as if people have forgotten the challenges of parenting or simply choose not to intervene—perhaps out of fear of upsetting a parent.
When my child cries in public, I would gladly welcome a stranger’s help in distracting or comforting them. I would be incredibly grateful if someone intervened when my child was in a risky situation. I always keep a watchful eye on my children, but unexpected situations arise—like when my other child falls or when my youngest reaches for something on a high shelf, which can be tricky for someone so small.
This topic has sparked numerous conversations between my partner, Mark, and me. I often express my frustration with the judgmental looks I receive when my children misbehave, while he enjoys a different experience as a father. People tend to smile at him, impressed by his involvement. I’ve tried to convince myself that maybe my experiences are just isolated incidents, and I should trust that help would come if I truly needed it. Yet, just a month ago, I found myself in a situation where I desperately needed assistance, and not a single person stepped forward. I realized, without family or close friends, I am truly on my own when out with my children, and it’s a daunting realization.
My youngest is a bundle of energy, with an adventurous spirit that rivals that of a monkey. Our local grocery store features child-sized carts, which I initially thought were a great idea, but they often create chaos. While my older child is adept at handling the cart, my youngest is determined to assert his independence. He can easily undo the buckle, making it unsafe for him to remain seated. So, I often let him walk beside me.
On a recent outing to that “safe” grocery store, I didn’t have time to go farther afield. We navigated the store with minimal drama, but during checkout, my youngest darted off. I found myself trapped behind my cart, a small cart, a bagger, and two customers with full carts. My son zoomed past several checkout lines, the customer service desk, and out through the double doors into the parking lot. Not a single person attempted to intervene. He zoomed past cashiers, the service desk, and multiple shoppers without being stopped. Fortunately, my older child quickly sprang into action, chasing after him. By the time I was free to follow, my oldest was dragging his kicking and screaming brother back to safety.
I was left feeling disheartened, questioning the absence of community support. Where did the villagers go? Why did no one step in? If I had seen a child running into a parking lot, I would have instinctively tried to intervene. Perhaps it’s my background as an educator, but I feel compelled to protect children in perilous situations. There were people nearby, within arm’s reach, yet no one acted.
Some readers may be quick to judge my choices. Why didn’t I leave my children at home with a sitter? Why can’t I control my kids better? I assure you, I strive to do my best, and my children are generally well-behaved. But sometimes, circumstances spiral out of control. My youngest is fiercely independent and often too quick for me.
In the wake of this incident, I’ve pondered the fading sense of community. We live in a time when people fear offending one another, often glued to their smartphones and oblivious to their surroundings. Trusting each other has become a rare commodity, with many parents worried about their children’s safety. The world feels more dangerous, even if the risks are not necessarily greater than in the past—news coverage has simply heightened our anxieties.
However, I urge anyone who sees a child in a precarious situation to take action. It’s better for a parent to be upset than for a child to be harmed. Let’s work together to revive the spirit of community; a village is a lonely place without its villagers.
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Summary:
The article reflects on the decline of community support in modern parenting, contrasting past experiences with contemporary challenges. The author shares personal anecdotes about the lack of assistance when her child misbehaves in public and calls for a revival of communal support to ensure child safety.

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