Where has the spunk and the fun gone?

So, today. Oh my goodness!

There was some lengthy posting on our neighbourhood chat about three teenage boys who, wearing balaclavas, rang two doorbells and then ran away.

I am already hearing the mixed views from you all about this behaviour.

The neighbourhood had a variety of responses, from needing to patrol the area because of this disturbing incident, to laughing about how society wants to get kids away from social media and outside into the fresh air, only to vilify them when they deem their choice of behaviour antisocial.

The boys were mine, well, my twelve-year-old and two of his mates. The three of them had taken themselves to the forest to a viewing point in the arboretum to watch the sunset, committing the pranking offences on route home.

Yes, they had taken the balaclavas. Knock Down Ginger (Ding Dong Ditch in the US) was a premeditated game plan. The boys are not stupid and they knew that most people along our road have Ring doorbells.

Now, I’m not sure these front door accessories should be called doorbells, when, in actual fact, they are more commonly used for surveillance. Petty surveillance, in my opinion, in most cases.

I didn’t think that ringing a few doorbells was a terrible sin. Although it was ten o’clock in the evening, so I understand it was annoying and disturbed the two households involved.

No one got hurt. It was a prank. They are twelve-year-old boys.

Personally, I do not want my children to be seen and not heard. I want my kids to have personality, to push the boundaries, speak up for themselves, learn to be resilient and confident, and to hold the establishment to account.

Silence doesn’t get things fixed.

Keeping quiet doesn’t solve the problems in our society.

Being afraid to speak out won’t change the world.

Resilience isn’t sitting at home hiding from the world, too afraid to be yourself, allowing yourself to be treated badly because you don’t know how to stand up for yourself.

And children don’t build resilience by avoiding risk, but by surviving manageable doses of it.

Risk teaches children where the limits are, how to judge danger, how to recover from mistakes, how to regulate fear and excitement, and how to negotiate with peers.

I am absolutely an advocate of kindness, politeness, respect and consideration.

I want all of my children to thrive in this world, to be independent, to find a lifestyle that makes them happy, to get up more days than not feeling excited about their lives.

I am also, I think, pragmatic.

Humans have needs, wants, and desires. We are animals. A product of evolution. We have incredible brains, the ability to think and feel and empathise. We are pretty damn awesome, each and every one of us.

We are also individuals.

We have our own thoughts and ideas. We form our own opinions, and I believe that we are all allowed to think and feel whatever we want.

What has this got to do with boys in balaclavas, you are asking?

They are being boys. Having a laugh. Pushing those boundaries.

Living and learning.

There are so many people in this world who are not free, who don’t feel like they have a voice, who are unable to be who they want.

Slaves did not want to be slaves. Women did not want to be sold into marriages. I don’t believe people on welfare want to be beholden to the state.

I don’t want to be told what to believe in, who to support, or how to spend my time. Do you?

I think humans, as a collective, need to spend more time discovering what they want from life, rather than focusing on what everyone else is doing with theirs.

Try and fail. Push and find those boundaries. Break free and see where the freedom takes you. Be bold. Be edgy. Stop worrying about how everyone else will judge you.

Live life with grace and kindness, but live it, godamn it.

Use that Ring doorbell for the purpose for which it was designed, to get that package delivered when you are otherwise indisposed.

And, yes, I know where all your heads went just then. (I’m a thriller writer, so I was imagining a serial killer butchering a body!)

Which is really my point. When I said otherwise indisposed, did you just imagine someone on the phone, in bed ill, engaged in a Zoom call, or serving the dinner? Did you?

Be more human. Be wild, and free, and fierce. Let yourselves go a little bit more. Let everything go a little bit more. ( I am NOT advocating serial killing btw!)

When I was a kid, Halloween had eggs, and silly string, and fireworks through letter boxes. Playtime involved lighting matches and setting off those roll caps that you found in toy guns. Climbing trees, swinging on ropes into the river, taking our bikes out into the forest and making fires.

Our parents didn’t know what we were doing or where we were. They probably got up to the same when they were kids, or worse.

How can we expect the next generation to take risks, to think big, to push themselves to their limits, to challenge outdated ideas, if they don’t learn as they grow?

Teenage brains are geared to reward; their impulse control is developing.

The whole risk-reward idea is something that we all need to learn, something I think we keep learning. I walked 107km continuously for fun, risking blisters, injury and exhaustion, but I made it to the finish, and the reward was an achievement that fills me with joy every time I think about it.

People jump out of planes; you can work out the risk/reward scenario yourselves with that one. They leave jobs, fight with neighbours, take out lawsuits, and cut up their ex’s clothing. Always risk. Always reward. Finding the right balance is never easy.

The balaclava boys risked embarrassment, getting caught, annoying someone and getting a dressing down.

Their rewards were laughter, independence, social bonding, shared memories and the thrill of misbehaviour without doing any harm.

Three boys in balaclavas ringing doorbells at ten o'clock are not society unravelling. They're children testing the edges of the world and learning, one annoyed neighbour at a time, where those edges lie.

Couldn’t we all do with a little more risk, for the reward of fun, friendship and thrills?

Freedom without consequences isn’t healthy, but neither is a life without freedom.