Free-Range Kids, How to Raise Safe, Self-Reliant Children (Without Going Nuts with Worry)

By Lenore Skenazy

FREE RANGE KIDS has become a national movement, sparked by the incredible response to Lenore Skenazy?s piece about allowing her 9-year-old ride the subway alone in NYC. Parent groups argued about it, bloggers, blogged, spouses became uncivil with each other, and the media jumped all over it. A lot of parents today, Skenazy says, see no difference between letting their kids walk to school and letting them walk through a firing range. Any risk is seen as too much risk. But if you try to prevent every possible danger or difficult in your child?s everyday life, that child never gets a chance to grow up. We parents have to realize that the greatest risk of all just might be trying to raise a child who never encounters choice or independence.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wiley
• Release date: May 26, 2009
• ISBN: 9780470497968

Book preview

Introduction

Welcome to—Yikes!

In less time than it takes to unlock a babyproofed toilet seat (which, admittedly, can be an awfully long time when you’re at a dinner party, and everyone’s wondering where you are, and you cannot get that lid up), we moms and dads have changed. Somehow, even those of us who looked forward to parenting without too much paranoia have become anxious about every possible weird, scary, awful thing that could ever, just maybe, God forbid!, happen to our kids—from death by toilet drowning to stranger abduction to electrical outlet cover ingestion. Yes, I just read that those little plastic things you stick in the outlets to prevent baby electrocution turn out to be potential choking hazards. Just try not to worry.

The list of potential threats just keeps growing, and of course we pay attention because we want to keep our kids safe. That’s our job, right? But it’s getting harder and harder—and, for the record, pricier and pricier, and pickier and pickier—as new safety doodads and dire warnings keep flying at us. And sometimes, like when you have to strap your kid into the stroller as if he’s about to blast off to Pluto, it’s driving us nuts.

Now there are all sorts of reasons for being super protective, and for the most part, they’re totally legit. Maybe you yourself were hurt as a child. Maybe your parents just barely survived the Holocaust. Maybe you’re African American and worried about the world treating your child like a criminal. Or maybe, like my friend Gigi, you are so addicted to anxiety that worrying actually feels good. Like going to the gym. No pain, no gain.

Or maybe you just watch too much Nancy Grace.

But it’s also possible you don’t want to be that way anymore. It’s possible you picked up this book because you have a sneaking suspicion that you don’t have to be quite as worried about quite as much. After all, our moms sent us outside and said, Come home when the street lights turn on. Their moms sent them out on street-cars and buses. And their grandmas sent their sweet children out on slow, rusty steamers to the New World with only a couple of rubles and a hard salami.

Those were all responsible parents! Yet here in the nice, safe, scurvy-free twenty-first century, we worry about our kids riding their bikes to the library, or walking to school. We worry when we can’t reach them on their cells. In fact, cell phones—though I love them dearly—are a great example of how everything has gotten so mixed up. We give them to our kids because we don’t want to worry. We say, They’re for emergencies. And yet now, if you expected to hear from your daughter after her Mandarin lesson and you can’t reach her immediately, you may well start to think: What happened?! Lost, dead, or white slavery? (Which, for our purposes, includes Hispanic, Asian American, African American, Native American, and Inuit slavery, too.)

So now the phone—the very device that was supposed to reassure you—is making you freak out when you never would have freaked before. Back in the good ol’ 1990s, you’d at least have waited for your kid to be a few minutes late before the heart-stopping scenarios kicked in. Now anxiety is on speed dial.

And so we worry all the time: Is he safe? Is she OK? Did he eat all his baby carrots? (Answer: no.) And what happens when we don’t worry?

We’re happy. So are our kids. When we go wild one day and decide to actually trust our children to go out alone and have some fun and get home safely, the way we did when we were kids, it’s quite a high. But as I learned in front of several million people, it’s also not without controversy. Here’s what happened to me.

About a year ago, I let my nine-year-old ride the subway alone for the first time. I didn’t do it because I was brave or reckless or seeking a book contract. (But look!) I did it because I know my son the way you know your kids. I knew he was ready, so I let him go. Then I wrote a column about it for the New York Sun. Big deal, right?

Well, the night the column ran, someone from the Today Show called me at home to ask, Did I really let my son take the subway by himself?

Yes.

Just abandoned him in the middle of the city and told him to find his way home?

Well, abandoned is kind of a strong word, but . . . yes, I did leave him at Bloomingdale’s.

In this day and age?

No, in Ladies’ Handbags.

Oh, she loved that. Would I be willing to come on the air and talk about it?

Sure, why not?

I had no idea what was about to hit me.

A day later, there across from me was Ann Curry looking outrageously pretty and slightly alarmed, because her next guest (the one right before George Clooney) just might be criminally insane. By way of introduction, she turned to the camera and asked, Is she an enlightened mom or a really bad one?

The shot widened to reveal . . . me. And my son Izzy. And some parenting expert perched on that famous couch right next to us, who, I soon learned, was there to TEACH US A LESSON.

I quickly told the story about how Izzy, the nine-year-old (who has since had the temerity to turn ten), had been begging me to let him try to find his way home on his own from someplace, anyplace, by subway.

I know that may sound a little scary, but it’s not. Here in New York, families are on the subway all the time. It’s extremely, even statistically, safe. Whatever subterranean terror you see Will Smith battling in the movies goes home when the filming stops—probably to New Jersey. Our city’s murder rate is back to where it was in 1963. And, by the way, it’s probably down wherever you live, too. Nationally the violent crime rate has been plummeting—by almost 50 percent—since it peaked in 1992.

That’s why letting Izzy find his way home alone seemed like a fine idea. Not dangerous. Not crazy. Not even very hard. My husband and I talked about it and agreed that our boy was ready. So on that sunny Sunday when I took him to that big, bright store, I said those words we parents don’t say much anymore.

Bye-bye! Have fun!

I didn’t leave him defenseless, of course. I gave him a subway map, a transit card, $20 in case of emergencies, and some quarters to make a call. But, no, I did not give him a cell phone. Because although I very much trusted him to get himself home, I was a lot less sure he’d get the phone there.

And remember: he had quarters.

Anyway, it all turned out fine. One subway ride, one bus ride, and one hour or so later, my son was back home, proud as a peacock (who happens to take public transportation). I only wrote about his little adventure because when I told the other fourth-grade moms at the schoolyard about it, they all said the same thing.

You let him WHAT?

The more polite said things like, Well that’s fine, and I’ll let my son do that, too . . . when he’s in college.

So—back to the Today Show. After Izzy tells Ann (our new best friend) how easy the whole thing was, she turns to the Parenting Expert—a term I have grown to loathe because this breed seems to exist only to tell us parents what we’re doing wrong and why this will warp our kids forever.

This one is appalled at what I’ve done. She looks like I just asked her to smell my socks. She says that I could have given my son the exact same experience of independence, but in a much safer way—if only I had followed him or insisted he ride with a group of friends.

Well, how is that the ‘exact same experience’ if it’s different? I demanded. "Besides, he was safe! That’s why I let him go, you fear-mongering hypocrite, preaching independence while warning against it! And why do TV shows automatically put you guys on anyway, lecturing us like two-year-olds? And where are your kids, by the way? Hiding under the bed at home?"

Well, I didn’t get all of that out, exactly, but I did get out a very cogent, Gee, um . . . Anyway, it didn’t even matter, because as soon as we left the set, the phone rang. (I do allow myself to carry a cell. My beloved cell!) It was MSNBC. Could I be there in an hour?

Yep.

Then FoxNews called. Could I be there with Izzy that afternoon? MSNBC called back: If I did the show today, would I still promise to come back with Izzy to do it again over the weekend, same place, same story?

And suddenly, weirdly, I found myself at that place you always hear about: the center of a media storm. It was kind of fun, but also kind of terrifying—because everyone was weighing in on my parenting skills. Reporters queried from China, Israel, Australia, Malta. (Malta! An island! Who’s stalking the kids there? Pirates?) TV stations across Canada threw together specials. Radio shows across America ate it up, as did parenting groups and PTAs. Newspapers, blogs, magazines from Newsweek to Funny Times—even the BBC had me on.

The English wanted to know, Are we wrapping our children in cotton wool? To which I boldly replied, What the heck is cotton wool? (Turns out to be the kind of cotton in cotton balls.) And here’s a badge of honor: the ladies on The View devoted a whole segment to agreeing—perhaps for the first time on anything—about what a terrible, crazy, horrible, heartless, and fill-in-the-disapproving-adjective-here mother I was.

The media dubbed me America’s Worst Mom. (Go ahead—Google it.) But that’s not what I am.

I really think I’m someone like you: a parent who is afraid of some things (bears, cars) and less afraid of others (subways, strangers). But mostly I’m afraid that I, too, have been swept up in the impossible obsession of our era: total safety for our children every second of every day. The idea that we should provide it, and actually could provide it. It’s as if we don’t believe in fate anymore, or good luck or bad luck. No, it’s all up to us.

Simply by questioning whether it really makes sense never to let our kids out of our sight, always to protect them from germs, jerks, sports injuries, sports disappointments, stress, sunburn, salmonella, skinned shins, and every other possible if teeny-tiny risk, I became, to my shock, the face of a new movement: the Free-Range Movement. At least, that’s the name I gave it. It’s a movement dedicated to fighting the other big movement of our time, helicopter parenting.

Which is not to say I haven’t done a lot of helicoptering myself. My God—I’m at least part Sikorsky. I’ve hired tutors for my kids and, this being New York City, shrinks, too. I brought in a football coach to run a simple birthday party, and what really fun, carefree door prize did I give out? Protective mouth guards. Woo-hoo! Plus I made my kids spend one summer doing math sheets every day after camp, and another summer writing an essay a day. That’s when they were eight and ten. If anyone needed a chill-out movement, it was me.

So I launched the Free-Range Kids blog to espouse the notion that maybe it’s time to start giving our children the same kind of childhood we enjoyed. Not that the sixties, seventies, and eighties were so great, but at least our parents didn’t spend all their time worrying that we were about to be abducted. And neither should we. As you’ll read throughout this book, the crime rate today is just about on par with 1970 (and—I’m already repeating myself—down since it peaked in the early nineties). I know it doesn’t feel that way. We’ll look into that later, too. But my point is: we got to explore the world on our own; we got to do things without adult assistance and make mistakes and even play on teeter-totters. (Which I never liked. But still.) Our kids deserve no less.

The response to the blog was overwhelming. Tens of thousands of folks logged on and wrote comments about their own scrappy childhoods. They said they’d like to raise their kids Free Range, but are feeling a little nervous about it. Or they’re already doing the Free-Range thing, but are sick of the other parents thinking of them as slackers, or worse. Usually worse.

All around us, parents are clutching their children close, and it’s easy to understand why. This is what pop culture is telling us to do. Stories of kidnappings swamp the news. Go online, and you can find a map of local sex offenders as easily as the local Victoria’s Secret (possibly in the same place). Google something as ridiculous as Kid drowns in ketchup, and you can usually find a terrible story about just that. (Wait—no. I just tried. But Google drown and kid and you won’t be able to sleep.) Meantime, if you do summon the courage to put your kids on a bus or a bench or a bike, other parents keep butting in: an unwatched child is a tragedy waiting to happen!

The warnings are so rampant that we have been brainwashed with fear. Here’s a typical letter I got at Free-Range Kids:

I understand that you probably don’t want your children to grow up afraid and not able to survive as independent adults. On the other hand, I think you’re also teaching them that there is nothing to fear and that isn’t correct. It’s survival of the fittest and if they don’t know who/what the enemy is, how will they avoid it? There are many, many dangers to protect them from and it does take work—that’s what parenting is. If you want them to run wild and stay out of your hair, you shouldn’t have had them. Think about those girls in Oklahoma, walking on a dirt road in a small town. Within a few minutes of leaving home, they were brutally murdered possibly by a thrill seeker. Free Range didn’t work there, did it?

I know she’s only trying to be helpful (in a really snippy, nerve-grating way), but this woman thinks the job of parenting boils down to instilling terror. The Oklahoma girls she mentions are the one-in-a-million-and-a-half example. Literally, that’s the statistic: 1 in 1.5 million children is abducted and murdered by strangers. We have to put those crimes in context, or we’ll end up locking up all our kids like Rapunzel. (And look how well that worked.)

However, I do agree with the letter lady on one point: it makes sense to teach your kids about danger and how best to avoid it. Just like you want to teach them to stop, drop, and roll if they’re ever in a fire.

And then? You have to let them out again, because that lady is wrong about one basic thing when she says, There are many, many dangers to protect them from.

No! Not true. Mostly, the world is safe. Mostly, people are good. To emphasize the opposite is to live in the world of tabloid TV. A world where the weirdest, worst, least likely events are given the most play. A world filled with worst-case scenarios, not the world we actually live in, which is factually, statistically, and, luckily for us, one of the safest periods for children in the history of the world.

OK. So, what if you’re a parent like me, who thinks there’s got to be another way, but you don’t want to move to Mongolia (where at least you won’t be scared by the nightly news because you can’t understand a word they say, not even Up Next: When Yaks Attack)?

That’s what this book is about. Yaks. No. I jest. Really, it’s here to help tease out the real dangers from the hype, to show you (and me) the things that are worth guarding against, as opposed to all the parental warnings based on fearmongering, bad information, and modern-day myths. The book also aims to figure out how we got to be so scared in the first place.

You’ll find a skeptical look at the hovering advice we’ve been given, an equally skeptical look at the devices designed to help us do that hovering, and all sorts of support and facts and (God willing) fun boiled down into the Ten Free-Range Commandments.

Well, that was the idea. But then it turned out there were a whole bunch of other issues I wanted to get to, from how to ignore media hysteria to how to stop worrying about every little parenting decision, to how to get our kids to actually put down the Wii and go outside (if that’s humanly possible), and pretty soon, there were Fourteen Commandments. So think of it as Ten Commandments . . . with four free with purchase.

After these comes an easy-to-use A-to-Z review of all the things you may not have to worry about, from BPA in baby bottles to raw eggs in cookie dough. Plus a whole chapter on the truth about abductions that should help you dial down your anxiety meter a few notches. And throughout, there are stories from parents who are starting to let go. Here’s one:

My friends’ daughter Carrie is a special needs kid. She goes to a special school, a special camp, special therapists. But recently she asked her mother, out of the blue, if she could go get a slice of pizza on her own, here in Manhattan.

Her shocked mother said, Uh . . . OK, but why not get the pizza and bring it home to eat? NO! said Carrie, who’s sixteen. Other people eat at the pizza place, and I want to, too!

So, bless her, my friend said OK, and Carrie went off by herself a block or two away. When she returned, her mother was waiting for her outside, but couldn’t even see her coming. She’d been so worried, she’d run out of the house without her glasses. Then Carrie zoomed into view, glowing, grinning, and gave her mom a hug.

What made you want to do this? her mother asked.

Carrie had seen her friend Izzy on TV, talking about his subway ride.

I thought if he could do it, I could do it too.

Darn tootin’.

And that’s really what we’re talking about here. Carrie came home joyful. The world had become a less scary place, and she had fun along the way. All our kids need those opportunities to roam, to fall, to fail, and, finally, to fly.

You don’t have to be very brave to start thinking about all this, and you don’t have to put your kid on the subway tomorrow, either. Or ever. (Ann Curry doesn’t.)

Small steps are fine; mulling is fine, too. Not all kids are ready to go Free Range at the same age. You know your sweet one’s unique abilities (and quirks), and you know your own comfort level, too. But if you find yourself half psyched, half wavering: remember Carrie! Her mom wasn’t quite ready, but Carrie was. And her mom was smart—and brave—to listen.

In truth, it wasn’t until I was blogging away about bravery this, bravery that, that I finally had to face my own primal fear: the Concussion on Wheels. Or, as kids call it, the skateboard. My boys had been begging for one for five years, but I only finally gave in because after yakking about it on the Free-Range blog, I had to buy one or lose all credibility.

Long story short: they played with it a few times and got bored. (Hooray!)

All these little mini-adventures we’ve started phasing in—skateboards, subway rides, taking out the garbage—have not changed our boys, Izzy and his brother Morry, twelve, in any big ways that I can see. Yet. But the whole new thinking about happiness (and maturity) is that these qualities come from actually doing things. Creating. Exploring. Being independent. The catch phrase is self-mastery, and you’ll note that this term and self-confidence and self-esteem all start with self, not parent-assisted. So now that’s my goal, and perhaps yours, too: to teach the kids what to do and then stop assisting quite so much. After all, we can’t do everything for them forever. Raising happy, responsible, independent young people is parenting’s goal.

Go Free Range and I can’t promise immediate happiness, responsibility, and independence. But I can say that the fears so rampant in our society aren’t in line with reality anymore, and lately a lot of us seem to be realizing that. It’s time to give our kids a different kind of childhood.

They say the first step toward change is realizing that you really want to change, at least a little bit, so kudos to you for picking up this book. A bigger kudos to you for reading it. (Picking up a book only gets you so far.) Join me in the Free-Range Movement and you won’t regret it.

Just as soon as you get that toilet seat unlocked.

Part 1

The Fourteen Free-Range Commandments

Commandment 1

Know When to Worry

Play Dates and Axe Murderers:

How to Tell the Difference

It was one of those chaotic parenting moments. The ones when you have to make a decision—fast.

Isabelle, the twelve-year-old daughter of my friends Jeff and Sue, had just been in the middle school play. She was going with the cast to the local Friendly’s for ice cream, along with several dozen kids and parents. Clearly this was the suburban equivalent of

Reviews for Free-Range Kids, How to Raise Safe, Self-Reliant Children (Without Going Nuts with Worry)

[Owto Dozis · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Enlightened! The author knows what she is talking about. Very funny to read and really easy to start putting into practice. Freedom to kids!

[damienfranco · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I'm giving my kiddos a longer leash because of this book and I feel happier and safer about doing it.

[micahmom2002 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Written by a woman dubbed "The America's Worst Mom", the author encourages parents to lighten up and raise our kids to have some of the same experiences we were alllowed to have as children, such as walking to school, chores and jobs, unsupervised outdoor play. She claims that our "helicopter parenting" is hurting our children by creating fear, and not allowing today's generation to learn how to cope with failure, anxiety and pressures of daily living. It is a light and often funny read, with many stories and statistics to back up her points.

[amphipodgirl · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This book is a fun-to-read invitation to worry less and trust your kids and the world more. I was already pretty free-range, b ut it made me notice some places where I was hovering and see some places where I cxan give my kids (and me!) some more freedom.

[imperfectcj · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Free-Range Kids is a decent book. Skenazy's style grated on me a bit after a while, but she did get me to think about ways that I can empower my kids to do more on their own and take the steps to becoming responsible adults. I think I tend to be more free-range-y than many parents I know, but I still have my worries. Mostly I think the helicoptering I do is pretty appropriate to my kids' ages---or at least to my son's age. He turns four next week, and while I let him play out in the un-fenced backyard by himself, there's not much else I feel comfortable having him do on his own. Unfortunately, I do find myself setting similar limits for my eight-year-old, even though she is clearly ready to take on more responsibility. Skenazy's book helped me realize that and start thinking of ways to ease both kids into more responsibility.

I also liked the stats she included, especially about things like abduction risk. My favorite? If you wanted your kid abducted by a stranger, you'd have to leave her outside, unattended, for 750,000 years to make it statistically likely to happen (pp. 16-17).

Her tips for keeping kids safe from the minuscule risk of abduction by a stranger were also great. My daughter and I did some role-playing last night about what she would do if someone she didn't know asked her to help him (or her) find a lost dog, and I'm pleased to say, my daughter passed with flying colors. Now my son, who thinks of every person, animal, and streetlamp we meet as a fast friend? I think we'll have to do a little more work before I'm sure he's internalized the lesson, but it's a start. Going through all of this really helped ease my fears and boost my confidence in my kids.

Mostly, though, since I recognize my own penchant for anxiety, I'm accustomed to mitigating my own fears. I worry about ticks, so the kids and I wear permethrin-treated pants and long-sleeve shirts when we go on our weekly hikes. I worry about being hit by a car while we're on our bikes, so we carefully choose our routes and the times we'll ride to minimize the time we have to share the narrow New England roads with drivers unaccustomed to bicyclists. I don't let them eat raw eggs, but less because of the food-poisoning risk than because it turns my stomach.

So, a lot of the things Skenazy addresses are things I've already thought about. But the biggest barrier to me letting my kids be more free-range is fear of the judgment of other parents, which Skenazy addresses in "Commandment 6".

Last spring on the way to the thrift store, my kids and I stopped at the kids consignment shop to pick up a batch of what they euphemistically called "no thank-yous" from among the bunch of clothes I'd brought in the week before.

When we arrived at the consignment shop, the kids were reading quietly in the back of the car. I knew that if I got them out, the 30-second trip inside to pick up my bag of clothes would turn into an hour-long stay as my children made their way through every toy piled in the back of the over-loaded store. I knew this because that's what had happened the week before. So, noting that it was <70 degrees out and that I could keep an eye on the car through the window of the store, I gave the kids instructions to stay inside and not talk to anybody, and I jogged up to the store. I locked the car, but I didn't even take my wallet with me.

When I got inside I butted into a conversation at the front desk to let the employees know I was there to pick up my no thank-yous and that my kids were waiting in the car, so if they could make it speedy, that would be great. One of the young women went into the back to look for my bag, and I stood there watching the parking lot through the window as an SUV pulled up and a woman got out, pausing briefly to look inside my car. I watched the woman walk inside and wait in line.

After finding out how long a wait it would be to have items considered for consignment, she said, "Oh, and by the way...someone left their kids in their car out there."

"Oh, that's me," I said, smiling. "I'm just in to pick up some no thank-yous, and it's taking a little longer than I expected."

She just stared at me. My heart started beating faster, and I felt my cheeks grow hot.

"Look, it's not hot outside," I explained. "I'm watching the car through the window---I watched you pull up just now---and it's not like I'm browsing or waiting 45 minutes to have items looked at. I'm just in here to pick up a bag of no thank-yous."

She raised her chin a little and lifted an eyebrow. "Well, obviously you know what you're doing is wrong!" Then she turned and started for the door.

I would like to say that I just rolled my eyes and watched her walk away. However, that's not what I did. I followed her to the door and said, "And obviously you know it's none of your [gosh-darn] business!" (Immediately I heard a woman behind me say, "Hey! Watch your language!" Really? For a [gosh-darn]? It's not like I said "[fudging]". And where was she when this woman was saying I was "wrong"? I still apologized for my language, though.)

I stood there shaking, angry with myself for losing my cool, irate at that woman for judging me like that, and also terrified that she was going to call the police or talk to my kids or something. When the saleswoman came back and said she couldn't find my bag and would I mind waiting longer, I just told her to keep the clothes, that I couldn't wait anymore. I got into the car with my kids, who were still reading quietly, and drove to the thrift store, still shaking, still sure I was going to see a police cruiser with flashing lights behind me. I knew I hadn't done anything wrong (except for swearing at a self-righteous but well-meaning stranger), but the fear of being confronted by the police about it drove me to distraction. (The police never showed up, by the way.)

I'm glad that the woman was looking out for my kids. I'm glad she mentioned it at the store. If I'd left my head lights on, I would hope she'd alert the store, too, so I could turn them off and not kill my battery. It's the sign of a healthy community for people to look out for each other like that. But when I owned up to leaving my kids in the car, I wish she could have chalked it up to differences in parenting styles and left it at that. Despite this woman's assertion, I do not think I was in the wrong leaving my kids in the car like that. Heck, my parents once left my little brother and I (I was 10, he was 3) in the car when they took our sister into the emergency room, and that took HOURS. I wouldn't leave my kids for that long, but my brother and I were fine, if bored. I've not, however, ever left my kids in the car again, even for a short time. I even feel nervous leaving them in there while I pump gas, and I'm standing right next to the car when I do that.

If that's what it feels like to have a confrontation with a self-righteous parent about leaving my three-year-old and his seven-year-old sister in our car while I stared at them through a window ten yards away the entire time, I can only guess at what Lenore Skenazy felt in the midst of the crapstorm in which she found herself after admitting to letting her nine-year-old ride the subway by himself.

So, there's what passes as my review of Free-Range Kids. The book didn't blow my mind, but I'm glad I read it. It's given me a lot to think about, a little less to worry about, and maybe even a little more courage to own up to my free-range-y choices to other parents. Now if only I can do something about my potty-mouth...

[alsocass · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

It is about time I reviewed this book. I first read it when I was pregnant with my first daughter. That time in life when you begin educating yourself as to what type of parent you will be. I had a strong background in education, but my parenting influences were all a bit scattered. This was one of the first books that I really felt strongly connected to.

The standout point when I first read this book was about risk assessment. Rather than just following the crowd in the name of protecting your child, stop and assess what dangers they are likely to face, and how likely are those risks. It was an interesting notion that your child is many times more likely to be killed in a car accident then to be abducted while playing at a park. Yet we fear the latter, while unhesitatingly buckling our kids into the car.

The books is about the idea that by protecting our kids from everything we risk a greater danger, and that is having kids who are unable to protect themselves from anything, and even worse, they grow lacking the skills and abilities that can only be acquired through living life, something that becomes harder and harder as parents worry about everything.

I have increasingly noticed this at kid's playgrounds. These are safe environments for kids to play, swings, slides, soft-turf. However I never see kids just playing in them anymore. Whenever I take my kids I see a playground full of parents hovering around kids and offering advice. I will tell you two stories.

The other day I was at a large park on a busy day. The place was packed and my 3yo and 18mo were playing on one piece of equipment, it was pretty cool, it had three slides coming off it. Older kids, wet from the nearby beach, where sliding down the large spiral slide. My 18mo was playing at the bottom of a smaller slide, climbing up it and sliding back down. I stood away back to watch. I saw kids of all ages (18mo - 10yo) interacting with each other. The older kids slid fast down the spiral slide, but at the bottom they would call out to each other, informing the kids at the top whether the path to the bottom was clear, or yelling out to tell them to wait if kids were in the road. On the smaller slide that my 18mo was making herself a nuisance (my opinion) at I saw slightly bigger kids either going slowly down the slide, or waiting for her to move, or just switching to the parallel slide. But this is where things got controlling. I felt guilty, my 18mo was 'hogging' the slide, she was not taking turns, and she was using the slide the wrong way. I tried to move her but she kept going back. For her, the bottom of the slide was the most interesting place in the whole playground, and she had no concept of taking turns. I felt awful, I felt like I wasn't controlling my child well enough. Other parents where controlling their kids, I started to notice. I saw parents telling their kids the rules "no climbing up the slide" said one mum, "no going down the slide while wet" said another mum, "take turns" said a Dad. Parents where everywhere, not standing back like me, but right there in the middle of the equipment. I realised how ugly it was, then I started to think about what was important. Those kids barely even noticed my 18mo at the bottom, I was embarrassed, but they just got on a played around her, I was worried she would get bowled over by a kid sliding to fast, but the kids just made allowances for her. The kids of all ages were interacting and having fun despite these stupid rules parents were trying ti impose. I mean, why not climb up the fucking slide? It was fun and heaps of kids were doing it, only to be chastened by their parents. It was a frigging playground, the domain of kids, there were 3 slides, surely the kids were capable of deciding their own rules? Apparently not. In fact one 6yo girl came up to me and parroted her mother, she pointed at my 18mo and told me "you are not allowed to climb up the slide". I looked at her very nicely and said "well you had better go tell her". I was thinking, it is your playground, you guys can make and enforce the rules.

I left the playground a bit shocked and disgusted. If we can't trust our kids to make up their own rules, and play together in a playground, what hope do we have? There needs to be a big yellow line drawn around a playground that says "parents stand behind this line"... Hmmm, one day I might go engage in some guerrilla playground tactics.

Okay my second story is a smaller one. I was at a family party, lots of kids running around the backyard, their was a swing set, a tree swing, and a trampoline. To get to the backyard the kids had to climb over a 2ft wall. A couple of blocks had been positioned to help the kids over it. So my 18mo was trying to get to the swings, she climbed up the blocks onto the wall, then she stood up and overbalanced and fell into my waiting arms. I put her on the ground and she tried a second time and toppled backwards again. Both times it was tempting to reach out a hand and help her over the wall, but on the third time she changed her method and didn't stand at the top. Now I was confident that I didn't need to hover over her anymore. She went up to the swing set where parents hovered and worried. I reassured them my daughter was fine, and that falling was quite a good thing (I don't want broken bones or too much blood, but falling is good for kids). I noticed a 9yo girl hovering protectively around my 19mo and I thought that that is as it should be. Let the kids play, they are not horrid monsters, they will look out for each other. When did it happen that parents hovered at the swing set, and at the trampoline, not for conversation but for fear that they kids would get hurt. The bigger issue is that we are unknowingly setting up kids who are unable to assess their own risks.

This book is about this kind of stuff.

[herdingcats_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is a funny book full of serious advice about child raising. Today's parents have become overly cautious about our children fearing that they will be abducted at any moment, largely due to the media frenzy that surrounds such rare events, and we have become so over-protective that we do not allow our children the freedom to become responsible and mature on their own.Despite the increase in media coverage, there has not been an increase in child abductions since I was a kid and I was allowed to run and bike ride all over the neighborhood by myself with no cell phone - they were not invented yet - and my parents had no idea where I was and I survived. Do I let my kids do that? No way. And, according to the author of this book, I am stiffling them and harming their future and self image and independence which will lead them to a lifetime of therapy. Or maybe not. But, there is hope for me and my children! The author has filled her book with free range baby steps, brave steps and giant leaps to help us to give our children the independence that they need. This book is funny and practical and I really enjoyed it and I highly recommend it.

[sylvatica_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

RECOMMENDED to everyone who will ever have anything to do with any child ever.

[molugum_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I really appreciated reading a book like this, even though my own kids are grown. I share with the author a personal parenting philosophy that kids are safer if they engage with other people, have the ability to negotiate their environment and have less fear. After all, if the world really is such a dreadful place, why even have kids? On the downside, it's a serious topic, and the constant side comments, although humorous, diminish the important research cited throughout the book, supporting her argument.

[manque_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This book is a much-needed antidote to the pervasive fear-mongering that assaults today's parents (at least in the U.S.A.). Skenazy uses the tried-and-true combination of biting humor and pertinent facts to skewer the biggest myths about the dangers American children face today. Did you know for example that there has never been a single recorded, verified case of a child poisoned or injured by Halloween candy? (No, the infamous razorblade-in-an-apple never happened.) Along the way, she presents a compelling case for critical thinking about the role the media plays in shaping our perceptions of the world. This last comes almost as an aside, as she seeks to explain the source of parents' irrational fears, but is a valuable lesson many would do well to heed.I would say that the parenting suggestions Skenazy presents here represent a good, healthy dose of common sense, except that such sense is all too uncommon in the American parenting landscape today.If you're a parent who worries that your child will be abducted by a stranger if you let him or her play in the front yard unattended for 15 minutes, do yourself a favor: turn off CNN, Nancy Grace, or whatever it is you've been watching and read this book.

[argyriou · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Fascinating book - Skenazy details how we've been led to believe that life is much more dangerous for kids today than it was for kids when we were those kids, and how that's affected how much or how little trust we place in our kids. A useful antidote to the scaremongers.

[karieh_2 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Clicking on the fifth of the five stars of the rating for this book was a no-brainer. This was a fabulous book…not only very informative but a very entertaining read. I took SO much from author Lenore Skenazy. She backs up all of her suggestions and presents her material in a very interesting a humorous way.I do need to stress the humor – because she is incredibly effective at getting the reader to take a step back from the crazy-making new world of parenting. I am the ultimate helicopter parent – even allowing my 9 and 6 year old children to cross the street to get the mail seems like a dangerous endeavor. This is me:“…a lot of parents are really bad at assessing risk. They see no difference between letting their children walk to school and letting them walk through a firing range. When they picture their kids riding their bikes to a birthday party, they seem them dodging Mack trucks with brake problems. To let their children play unsupervised in a park at age eight or ten or even thirteen seems about as responsible as throwing them in the shark tank at Sea World with their pockets full of meatballs.”She using the very successful technique of presenting a situation, describing the way parents used to deal with it and comparing to how some parents deal with it now, and then gives the facts. Using the example of letting children walk to school (which now only 10% of children do) – she points out that children are about 40 times more likely to die in a car trip home from school than a walk home from school. That by making choices (based on fear) that we think are making our children safer – are actually making them less safe. Again and again, she points out that, “Mostly, the world is safe. Mostly, people are good. To emphasize the opposite is to live in the world of tabloid TV. A world where the weirdest, worst, least likely events are given the most play. A world filled with worst case scenarios, not the world we actually live in, which is factually, statistically, and, lucky for us, one of the safest periods for children in the history of the world.”Her explanation of where this societal fear comes from is very well laid out and makes complete sense. She doesn’t blame any one person or organization in particular but points out the individual pieces of the puzzle that make up the world of exploitation and misinformation we live in now.I would recommend this to ANY parent or parent-to-be. Having these facts at hand (she even provides a sheet called “I Am a Free-Range Parent” to keep with you when other parents react negatively to choices you make for your child. (And the mere fact that this is needed, and it is, is pretty sad…)I checked this book out from the library but will be buying my own copy this weekend. I will be reading this again soon, and have recommended it to all of my friends with children.

[stephaniechase_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I remember reading Skenazy in the Daily News when I rode the F-train -- she's funny, and witty, and makes excellent points here, although the book is certainly too long and repetitive. All parents these days should realize the role television plays in instilling fear, and that statistics show the world is no less safe than it was when we were kids, disappearing from our houses after breakfast and not showing up until dinnertime.

[thornestaff · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Wow, wish I'd had this book when my kids were growing up. Lenore Skenazy helps parents deal with their unreasonable fears for their children - as well as their reasonable fears - and gives kids a break by allowing them to experience those things that help turn them into responsible (but not fearful) adults. A needed corrective for our fear-mongering society.

[gkleinman_2 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

WOW! Just WOW! Lenore Skenazy has written a modern manifesto for parents who have been convinced that helicopter parenting IS the only way to parent. Free Rang Kids is an exceptionally entertaining and enlightening read. It tackles the issue with great humor and insight. What it all boils down to is this - your view of how safe the world is has been shaped by the media you watch. When you really break things down things are no more or less safer than when you were a kid. So why has parenting changed so dramatically? It's a fascinating hypothesis and a book that gives the modern parent a LOT to think about. I think it's simply an exceptional book and one of the best I've read this year.

[sugarcreekranch · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I was prepared to be unimpressed. I assumed that this book was written solely to capitalize on the current media exposure of the author’s lax parenting, extending her 15 minutes of fame (or infamy). I didn’t expect it to be particularly well written, or well researched. I didn’t expect it to change my parenting style, which is pretty middle-of-the road.Imagine my surprise when I discovered this book to be well-written, humorous, well organized, mostly supported by data, and include a full bibliography. Lenore Skenazy presents her viewpoints with a wry sense of humor, sometimes being self-deprecating but more often gently poking fun at helicopter parents. She does a good job of taking a particular topic, weighing the risks to the children and the effectiveness of parental hovering, and delivering a clear decision about the appropriate level of protectiveness. Do we need locks on our toilets? No. Do we need car sets? Yes, yes, of course.I finished this book in just a few nights’ reading. After finishing it, I still didn’t think it would impact my parenting style, as I already shared many of the author’s viewpoints. The topics that we disagreed on, we’d just have to agree to disagree. But I was amused to find myself giving my kids just a touch more freedom in the weeks after reading this book. Nice job, Ms. Skenazy!