I live on a corner lot, which means that my “backyard” is exposed to the street on two sides. Due to an unfortunate combination of lot layout and local by-laws, we’re not allowed to put up a privacy fence. All we have is a token 27-inch tall ornamental fence, mostly to discourage neighborhood dogs from trampling our gardens. For the most part I don’t mind this. We live in a great neighborhood, and we get along with all of our neighbors in spite of their wandering dogs. We don’t feel too badly on display – our little fence actually seems to work as a psychological barrier, telling passersby to avert their eyes. One thing recently has been making me uncomfortable, though.
My two preschool-aged children, like most I would imagine, have a habit of stripping off their clothes and running around as free and beautiful as Nature made them. This, to me, is one of the prerogatives of early childhood. My sister and I did it, and there are snapshots of us running naked through the sprinkler to prove it. Those were more innocent times, I suppose. Now there’s a general taboo around birthday-suit photos. And while I don’t want to crush my children’s free spirits or teach them shame of their bodies so early, I can’t help being afraid for them. Who knows who might be walking by at any given moment? I don’t want my children providing fodder for someone’s fantasies. From there, my imagination runs to them becoming targets of a perverted photographer, and worse scenarios that my media-fueled paranoia won’t allow me to set down in black and white.
My then 4-year-old nephew once told me after his mother dropped him off for a play date that he wasn’t allowed to play outside because “somebody might steal me.” Where do you draw the line between protecting your children and allowing them the simple joys in life?
