When the Street Light Comes On

When The Street Light Comes On!

John Paul Derryberry

If you are older than 35 and live in a neighborhood with street lights, you have probably heard the statement at some point in your youth: "Be home when the street light comes on." If you are younger than 35, it might be a foreign statement. Or if you grew up in the country without street lights, it might be home before the sun sets. Either way, becoming old enough for my dad to trust me enough to stay out until the street lights came on was an unbelievable feeling—a right of passage to independence.

In our ever-changing world, fewer and fewer folks are experiencing that right of passage. I sat in an economic summit this Thursday. I heard a speaker talk about different generations, but I became a little sad after he mentioned that kids are growing up without the feeling of being allowed out until the street lights come on. I was flooded with memories of hide-and-seek games on Leffingwell Dr. in Orwell, Ohio, and biking home as fast as possible from the basketball courts to avoid getting grounded. They are great memories from my life, a stage between being a little kid and entering older teen years where there can be severe life-altering consequences.

It's like a mini-low-consequence trial run with three weeks of relationships, broken hearts, making best friends, and arguing about not being best friends. Solving your own problems because if you told your parents the situation, they might ground you or make you skip the next dusk neighborhood hang-out session. I might have had my bell rung in a boxing match sanctioned by the oldest kid of the group, but I doubt he had his concussion protocol certification up to date.

I get why these places are shrinking. Safety is important, and allowing kids to be kids in safe conditions is best for life. Prolonging adulthood is a good thing. I know I wasn't ready for it at 18, and I went through some stuff in my teen years that forced me to grow up. But we should not act like those places; those interactions didn't have merit in our lives. They shaped us profoundly. We should search for ways for them to be safely included in today's youth. We need to practice independence before the consequences are permanent. I look at my girls and wonder how I will pull off latchkey kids without entirely putting them at risk.

It was such a youthful story to be out until the street light came on. I'm out without my parents and making decisions from adults' eyesight. What type of person am I going to be? How will I treat others? What boundaries will I set? What do I find to be fun? Can I stand up for myself when I need to? Can I find the courage to tell the person I'm attracted to that I want to get to know them? I worry about folks and how they navigate the world when we ignore the street light and act like it never comes on.