Family, innocence and joy remain alive and well on city’s South Side

Recently, a letter was pub- lished from a writer claiming to be among the last generation to truly enjoy an innocent, carefree childhood in Youngstown. He said, “We are the last to see America in a simpler time and different mindset,” and he attributed this to the presence of mothers in the home and a loss of “inner-city togetherness.”

There is nothing surprising about another lament that life was so much better “when I was a kid.” It’s a common theme in our society. There’s even a Facebook page for local people to share their cherished but lost experiences of growing up on Youngstown’s South Side. But I’d like to challenge these nostalgic misconceptions. It seems people in every generation reach a point when they realize their childhood is long gone, and with it, some of the unique elements that defined it. But it’s neither accurate nor fair to suggest all is lost because things have changed.

I’m sure parents in the Great Depression lamented that their children were growing up in such woeful economic times compared to the prosperous Roaring ‘20s. I was told my childhood in the ’80s was unfortunate because of the high divorce rate, the loss of jobs in the steel mills and the increasing crime in the city.

But I wasn’t robbed of anything because of the times in which I was born, any more than my son will be robbed of something because he’s growing up in the 21st century. I grew up on the upper South Side in the 1980s and ’90s – more than a decade after the letter writer said the unique magic of his childhood era had irrevocably ended. Yet, I rode my bike all over the neighborhood, walked to the corner ice cream store, played in the Pemberton woods, and walked safely home from Taft, Adams and Wilson schools. I enjoyed every adventurous and guileless moment of my childhood, and I felt every bit as fortunate for the timing and placement of my birth as he did in the ’70s.

And now, in the very same area the writer said is ruined forever, my family walks to the Newport Library and Handel’s Ice Cream. My son plays with three boys on our street in the timeless childhood games of tag and “you’re it”. Yes, we’re aware that the neighborhood is not as safe as it was in the past, but we hardly feel the need to wear Kevlar to pick up the newspaper on the front stoop – or even to walk around the block, contrary to popular opinion. And we know that our presence is ensuring the continued stability of our corner of the city. We talk with neighbors, wave to passers-by and have cook-outs. I’ve even been known to converse from porch to porch with a mom across the street with whom I share that bygone neighborly friendship of swapping everything from gossip to groceries.

The bottom line is, my son’s childhood is as happy, innocent, and carefree as any before his, even with a working mother, inner city address, cell phone, Wii, Internet, and all the other “impediments” to a traditional childhood. Yes, times change, and sometimes we regret that our children cannot relive the same experiences that so clearly defined our formative years. But that’s a far cry from saying that today’s youth is being unfairly denied the innocent joy that we enjoyed as children.

Angela Pettitt, Youngstown