Childhood Comes Alive in Those Places Adults Don't Really Care About
I grew up in many homes. Our family moved often, on average once every couple of years, as my father pursued his career as an engineer; from Missouri to Connecticut, from Texas to South Carolina, from Greece to Oregon. Each place we had a home, sometimes moving to another one within the same city after a year or two. But when I think of the homes I grew up in, I also include the other homes I knew almost as well as my own: the homes of neighbors and relatives where I spent enough time that they became a part of me.
In my own homes, kids were allowed run of the house, although we generally avoided the living room. In other people's homes, the living rooms were strictly off limits. More than one of these homes featured plastic covers on the living room furniture, only to be removed when more important guests, adult guests, were expected. In some homes there were other kinds of rooms that were off limits, like grown-up bedrooms or workshops, or, in a couple rare cases, a home office. In contrast, kids bedrooms were always free play zones, as were garages, basements, and attics. And these CONTINUE READING: Teacher Tom: Childhood Comes Alive in Those Places Adults Don't Really Care About
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