A little girl, maybe seven, ploughs into me on her way out of the girl’s locker room.  ‘Daddy!’ she calls into the empty foyer of our local pool.  ‘My dad’s got my bag,’ she tells me.

‘Maybe he’s in the boy’s locker room,’ I offer.  ‘We can call him from the doorway.’  We both try.

‘Daddy!’

‘Anybody in there have a little girl?’  No answer.

So we head back to our locker room with me listening to the girl’s steady stream.  ‘I already have my suit on but I need my bag to put my clothes in,' she points out.

By the time we’ve got on goggles and caps and I’m saying her dad’s probably waiting for her on the pool deck, I notice the girl is studiously ignoring me.  She’s gotten a grip on worry and gotten in touch with something her parents taught her.  Rules. 

Ah yes, ‘don’t speak to strangers’ and ‘don’t speak to kids who aren’t supposed to speak to strangers.’  In our rush to fix a problem, we’d both forgotten rules and roles and business as usual.  Strange woman.  Dutiful child.  Zero trust; all hallowed rules.

There are times when our great need, or loss, or even greater love temporarily interrupts the who’s who of trustworthy others.  After 9/11, it’s often noted, a national, even global suspension of distrust between strangers took effect.  Safe distance gave in to compassion and kindness.  It reminds me of cherished reunions with my family, whose Weltanschauung could not be further from my own.  I’m not the only one who loves her kin far more than she misjudges them.

I admire the girl swimmer’s resolve to ignore the stranger lady, as her parents told her to.  I told my little boys the same back when, to keep them safe.

But for grown ups, I’d welcome a person of stature to challenge us all - we the rule followers who curl up in our cozy sense of who belongs and who is never to be trusted.  Lead us not into self-preservation and other-ignoring but toward a role model our seven year olds may one day embrace.  A future where pundits and pols and the overlords who own them are shamed by the peoples’ relentless courage to include.

When such a leader emerges, I pray the stones we throw will miss their mark.  Long enough for us to awaken and think, as adults, for ourselves.

And with each other.

Photo Ralph Warr Hewes, Jane Weber 403 5th Ave Watervliet 1926