Childhood Role Models can be complicated

I am 6 years old, standing at the screen door, leaning forward so the screen presses against my forehead, looking out.
I'm a big girl now - already finished kindergarten.

And I'm thinking hard, wondering...

My shyness already made it difficult to make friends. But being labelled by my classmates as "different" made it almost impossible. How could Mummy and Daddy have such stupid rules? Why was I forced to be so different from the other children?

Suddenly it occurred to me. That is, it occurred to my 6-year old brain. I had to find or invent my own childhood role models. It was a light bulb moment. Both my Daddy and my Mummy Faye Schulman had rules of behavior which applied to their life in Poland and Russia. Maybe there it was normal to have to put on a snowsuit simply because it was still the month of May. Maybe in Poland and Russia it was normal to never be allowed to visit friends.

They were using their old-country rules. I could forgive them now. I realized they just couldn't make the shift. That is, my 6-year old brain realized it:

They weren't being stubborn.

They simply didn't understand.

They could not understand.

This was a revolutionary discovery for a child with so few years of experience.

For many of us, our childhood role models are teachers or caregivers or parents. My babysitters sure didn't qualify, and my teachers didn't impress me either. And now I was ruling out my parents. Who was left?
Maybe the other kids? I didn't understand that we lived in a rough downtown Toronto neighborhood. I didn't understand that those kids were not the best behaved. They weren't exactly model citizens.

Childhood role models?
I already knew everything

At 6 years old, I believed that  understood the world completely. Of course, I understood everything, didn't I?

At the time, it felt like a life-changing epiphany. It felt liberating.

"I don't  have to believe anything they tell me ever again."

And I didn't. I threw out the good lessons along with the bad ones..

"Why not?" became my motto.

I would ask myself at every unconventional idea, at every rebellious idea. Why not stay out dancing half the night? Hey - why not stay out dancing ALL the night? Why not hitchhike around the planet? Why not - you get the idea.

Of course It left me in a no-win position - Still craving my parents' approval, but I refusing to conform in to get it.

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But back to age 6, when we know everything. My first act of rebellion was magnificent. It was awesome. Even now in my 70's, I smile remembering how exhilarating it felt.

Tricycle around the block

As usual my mother cautioned me "Stay where I can see you". I waved at her from my tricycle, and waited impatiently until she went back inside. Today would be my first adventure. I pedaled off. My little legs continued cycling ever faster all the way around the corner.
Happy in my disobedience, like a puppy who's been allowed off-leash.
But a little apprehensive too. It was now unexplored territory. Every house was different. Every lawn was different.

I thought about my mom, Faye Schulman, and I wondered if every tree was different for her as a young woman hiding in the forests with the Russian Partisans.

So, in a way, even in my rebellion, she was still my childhood role models, at least partly. Other childhood role models were Superwoman and a female version of Batman.

My parents had always instilled in me to be careful and sensible. At least they tried. But careful and sensible doesn't have the same meaning for a 6-year old as it does for a parent.

Some driveways had parked cars. So I began to slow down, just a little, at every driveway. But I needed to get back fast, before my mother would check on me again. Finally, triumphant, having turned 3 corners, I was back in familiar territory on the home stretch.

I had just won the Gold Medal in tricycle riding. I felt triumphant! I could travel anywhere. I never told anyone my wonderful secret. I even kept the smug smile off my face every time my mother urged me to be careful.