One of the book series I grew up with was The Berenstain Bears. I don’t remember a whole lot of the content of the stories, and I even had to go on Amazon to find the spelling of the name — I thought it was Bernstein, which I reconstructed in my head through a series of logical leaps, and even the spellchecker in Firefox liked the spelling. *shrug*

I’ll have to glance through the Wikipedia article at some point, and the TVtropes page, and the Amazon catalogue, because it’s something I’d like to share with my own children some day, and I’m curious now to see what the stories might’ve been like from an adult’s perspective. I expect that they’ll be Anvilicious to one extreme or another, as children’s books often are, but I’m not especially worried. I turned out alright.

The last few years have given me a perspective that while a parent ought to be there to hold a child’s hand, the child doesn’t need to be protected from the world. I read an article that discussed the relatively recent shift in the way children are viewed in the last couple hundred years: namely, they’re viewed as something other than tiny, stupid adults.

Of course, there’s also the opposite extreme, that sees a need to guide and protect children from absolutely everything, and I think that’s just as bad as throwing them into the pool to see if they sink or swim. There’s a happy medium in there somewhere, and it’s different for everyone. I’ve already voiced my sentiment with regard to the Public School System, and I doubt that’s going to change anytime soon.