Saving the World Can Be So Blasé

Who remembers Fire Safety Day?

I appreciate that schools are encouraging students of all ages to be conscientious of societal issues like avoiding illegal drugs and respecting the environment. Such topics were never discussed during my formidable years. About the only thing that even came close was Fire Safety Day when, in lieu of science class, a couple of guys from the local volunteer fire department would talk to us in the auditorium about …stuff (for the life of me, I can’t remember what). This typically was followed by a fire drill which ended with the firemen telling everyone the entire third grade perished in the flames because they were talking too much and missed the emergency exit. Then we were allowed to climb all over the town’s lone fire truck while the teachers gathered in the far corner of the parking lot to smoke Virginia Slims.

By today’s standards, Fire Safety Day is to a school’s awareness programs what President’s Day is to the other holidays—technically they both qualify but nobody really pays them much attention. Still, that’s okay with me. The chances of my kids concocting anything involving tiki torches and a can of Aqua Net is less likely than their being pressured into smoking dope or their feeling ambivalent about alternative energy sources. With the exception of that masochistic kid in the back of the classroom pulling wings off of flies (we all knew a kid like that), most children figure out fairly early on not to play with matches.  The consequences of casual drug use or disregard for the environment, however, can be less obvious; so, the better educated my children are, the better the odds of them making the right decisions when the time comes. Thus far, my stepdaughters seem to be getting the message.

Yes, but not 5 bottle, honey!

“At Drug Awareness Day our teacher told us alcohol is a drug, Mommy,” Avery said at dinner one evening after another rousing day in the first grade.

“You’re right,” my wife replied. “Very good.”

“That means you and Ron are drug addicts,” added Avery’s older sister Allie in a matter-of-fact tone.

Avery nodded. “Yeah, I told my teacher about all the wine you drink—five bottles,” she said holding up every finger on her right hand.

What the girl’s were referring to was the way my wife and I split an occasional bottle of Merlot while watching television, a ritual that required some clarifying at the next parent-teacher conference. Despite this isolated moment of awkwardness, I’m perfectly fine with the kids’ zeal if it means they’ll be more responsible as adults, and I’ll support it in whatever ways possible.

Earth Day. I feel ya.

In preparation for Earth Day, Allie and Avery’s teachers instructed students to collect up as much recyclable material from home as possible and bring it to school for a special award. Given the amount of Diet Coke their mother drinks, gathering up the cans made for the perfect opportunity to have the girls to put their excitement into practice, while also giving me the chance to set an example as an adults.  For nearly a month, the girls and I pitched aluminum cans into a black garbage bag, only to then have their mother accidentally toss it out a few days short of the school’s Earth Day festivities. I felt bad for Allie and Avery, imagining them standing conspicuously empty-handed in front of their teachers who, no doubt, scowled at them as if the two were business execs from a British Petroleum showing up to an international eco-summit. Yet at the same time, such a distinction might actually not be that far off.

Adults might be less competent than kids

Whenever I want to test Allie and Avery’s commitment to a cause, I’ll tie it to a few chores. Such a tactic has already resulted in their dropping out of the Girl Scouts and PETA. Putting their fervor for greener tomorrow up for scrutiny proved to be no different. All it took was few simple requests: start a recycle pile for their old homework papers; turn off the lights in their room when they leave; and stop unduly overloading the laundry with the fifty wardrobe changes they make daily. Each of these, however, was met with an indifferent look of, eh, followed by a half-hearted shoulder shrug. There were no big school celebrations or glitzy prizes; so as far as Allie and Avery were concerned, what was the point. Without a tangible incentive that benefited them personally, all the dedication and effort just seemed like a waste. Being responsible can be so blasé. Good thing for the planet they’re not running an oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico.