This is a subject that always sets me off, and I'm sure that at least some of you have heard me vent about it before, but for those young and innocent ears that have not been bent yet, here goes.
Every time some kid goes out and hurts someone, supposedly because of what he or she saw in a movie, every time a newspaper blames the actions of some emotionally disturbed, or just plain mean, kid on what they saw done in "The Matrix." or "Halloween," or any other so called action thriller horror movie or tv show, it is simply a way to shift the blame off of the real reasons for that behavior: irresponsible parents and authority figures who either will not or can not teach the children under their care the difference between right and wrong, good and evil, and fantasy and fiction.
I grew up in a time long before movie ratings. If we had the money to buy the ticket, we could go in and watch the movie. I grew up with a father who was an avid hunter, and our home was full of guns. My first dog was a Pit Bulldog, who was never kept in an enclosed yard, on a leash, or muzzled. I was raised to believe that, boy or man, a good sharp pocket knife was as much a part of my clothing as my socks or shirt. Despite all of those so-called "bad" influences, I never tortured animals, molested children, took anything that didn't belong to me, tried to cut or shoot anyone or any THING unless it was for food or for protection, and the idea of going into a school, hospital, or mall with a gun and the intention of killing whoever happened to be there at the moment would never have even occurred to me.
The reason that I didn't do any of those things, the reason that doing them never even occurred to me, I firmly believe, was largely because I had parents who loved me, spent time with me, took the time to explain to me the difference between right and wrong, praise me when I did the former, punish me when I did the latter, and served as positive role models. Also, the teachers in my schools were respected, even feared to a healthy extent, and we knew that their word, within the confines of the school, was law. There were no arguments, and the only higher figure was the school principal, who kept and actually used a strong wooden paddle whenever it became necessary.
If a student had come to school where I attended, armed with a small arsenal of firearms and ammunition, the way it happened at Columbine, the first teacher that they met, whether it was the 230 pound ex-marine football coach or the 98 pound English teacher, would have taken the guns and sent the perpetrator to the Principal's office. Once there, their parents would be called to pick up the guns and their children, who would most likely be suspended for the rest of the week, and face their parents' wrath once they got home. (And that's no exaggeration, because it happened just that way at my high school)
Now, my wife, a teacher of more than 30 years experience, is forbidden by county policy from so much as scolding one of the little darlings, and if little Johnny goes home with any sort of tale of abuse, the teacher is pulled into the Principal's office to defend whatever actions, either real or imaginary, that they have been accused of. Even worse, little Johnny is sitting right there when that teacher is verbally abused and threatened by the irate parents.
And, now, here's the real irony of the situation. That same parent, who threatened everything short of armed assault on the school personnel for trying to impose a minimum of order into the class room will bring that same child to our martial arts studio. "He has no discipline," they say. "We can't get them to do anything that we tell them. Can Tae Kwon Do really instill discipline and control in a student? We just don't know where else to turn. We've tried everything."
I'm not trying to say that my parents and the others of their generation were perfect, because they most certainly weren't. But crime was punished, society had rules (some better than others, but destinct rules, nonetheless) and authority was a responsibility, not a privilege. Somewhere between my parents' generation and the present one, we dropped the ball. Exactly when or why, I couldn't really say, but that's the fact, and I don't see any real widespread improvement anytime soon.
Okay, the old man's sermon is over. Y'all can go on about your business now.
