We’ve all been horrified by the recent news of the Turpins, the California couple who reportedly imprisoned and starved their 13 children.
It raises so many questions. How could parents be so cruel and why didn’t the neighbors notice? I can’t begin to understand the first question, but I think I can explain the second.
I live in a perfectly lovely, average, middle-class neighborhood. I like all my neighbors...except for the teenager down the street who drives a Mustang with a muffler (or lack of one) that rattles my windows as he drives by. (You know who you are, kid.)
But for the most part, I like my neighbors. I just don’t really know them.
We all do the obligatory wave when we drive past one another. I know a few of their names. I know some of them have children. But aside from that, we’re not much more than strangers.
It came as a shock a few years ago when it was revealed that one of my neighbors had over 200 cats in her house. Police asked me if I knew anything about her. I didn’t even know she had one cat, much less a horde of them.
I never noticed anything usual when I walked my dogs by her house. She didn’t play loud music and her yard was always well-kept, so she was pretty much alright in my book.
Neighborhoods have changed in recent years. When I was young, we came home from school and immediately went outside to play with our neighbor friends until it was time to come home to eat. At dinner, I would tell my parents what the neighbor kids had said about their parents.
Yeah, it was gossip, but it was how the neighborhood stayed connected. Not anymore.
My kids have always had afterschool sports, lessons and other activities that usually keep us out until we are so exhausted, we come home, close the garage door and basically collapse.
Sorry neighbors...no time to visit today. Or any day really.
I guess this madness started with tee ball. My oldest child wanted to be on a team because his friends were on a team. And who am I to deny my child the right to pursue his dream of MLB glory...or at least having fun with his friends a getting an Icee after the game.
And so it began.
There were practices in the evenings and games on the weekends. I wanted my child to be well- rounded, so we started piano lessons. He also liked basketball. More practices and games. Then along came the second child. We couldn’t refuse him an equal amount of activities.
I’m not knocking the importance of outside interests because you want your children to chase dreams and cultivate interests and you feel if you can give them the opportunity, you should.
But it becomes sort of a rat race. Something has to give, and with us, it’s been getting to know our neighbors. So, I can’t really blame the Turpins’ neighbors, although I’m sure they are kicking themselves for missing clues as to what was going on in that house. The neighbors were probably busy just trying to get their own kids to soccer practice and gymnastics and karate.
They were doing everything they could to get dinner on their own table, struggling with homework and bath time So, I can’t really blame the Turpins’ neighbors, although I’m sure they are kicking themselves for missing clues as to what was going on in that house.
The neighbors were probably busy just trying to get their own kids to soccer practice and gymnastics and karate.
They were doing everything they could to get dinner on their own table, struggling with homework and bath time routines and staying on top of mounds of laundry.
I wonder if the Turpin children understood that.
Maybe this evening, my kids and I will make some cookies and take them to the neighbors.