As I sat down to write this week’s editorial, I instinctively reached for my stash of potato chips and popped the top on a soda.
I was reminiscing with someone a few days ago about years ago when I was working at the Siftings. He said that I’d gotten “fluffy” since then.
So?
It’s not really that I’m hungry as I sit down to write – I’m an afternoon muncher. I know a lot of folks like that and I know that a lot of us show the signs of that habit. What makes me mad is when someone tries to tell me that because I’ve gained a few pounds over the years of habitual munching, that I have to stop.
Yet that’s what’s happening to our kids. I know a handful of parents who got letters over the past few weeks with the notice that their kids are overweight. These helpful letters include suggestions on how to get a grip on the problem and, in some cases, instructions to see a doctor.
Let me step down from my soapbox right now to say that I know that childhood obesity is a problem. Many kids today spend a ton of time seated. Whether it’s in front of the tv with video games blasting or in front of a computer surfing or from the front steps texting to seventeen friends at the same time, there’s no doubt that kids in general aren’t as active as they were when I was a kid.
Back to the soapbox.
It’s nobody’s business if I’ve tubbed out a little – or even a lot.
I’ve used this argument before but it seems to apply again – You can’t legislate morality.
You can’t make people diet. You can’t make people eat right. Even if you assign it a title like “self-destructive behavior,” you can’t make people stop it.
And yes, I know that there’s a whole bunch of them that aren’t going to be healthy in the next generation. And I know that there’s a social and community cost associated with that.
But even though I was raised in the country where we all rode bikes miles and miles and roamed the woods regularly, we had some fat kids too. Most of the kids who kept up with me, mile-for-mile, and who ate like I ate, were bigger than me.
I’m not saying that the endeavors are all bad and I’m certainly not pointing fingers at any of the local schools. The kids I know who got letters are from Arkansas, but not Clark County schools. And there’s no doubt that some of the efforts are reasonable and are probably paying off. But there has to be a limit to how far legislating good health can go.
So should the schools just give up on trying to demand that we raise a generation of healthier, svelte kids?
Yep.
And anyway, weren’t we just having conversations a few years ago about how we’re damaging their little psyches by handing out bad grades? How much worse is it to point out that they’re “fluffy.”
But I’ll finish this thought later. Right now I have to go restock my afternoon snack stash. I’m low on Twinkies.
Wendy Ledbetter is the editor of the Siftings Herald and can be reached at wendylledbetter@gmail.com
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As I sat down to write this week’s editorial, I instinctively reached for my stash of potato chips and popped the top on a soda.
I was reminiscing with someone a few days ago about years ago when I was working at the Siftings. He said that I’d gotten “fluffy” since then.
So?
It’s not really that I’m hungry as I sit down to write – I’m an afternoon muncher. I know a lot of folks like that and I know that a lot of us show the signs of that habit. What makes me mad is when someone tries to tell me that because I’ve gained a few pounds over the years of habitual munching, that I have to stop.
Yet that’s what’s happening to our kids. I know a handful of parents who got letters over the past few weeks with the notice that their kids are overweight. These helpful letters include suggestions on how to get a grip on the problem and, in some cases, instructions to see a doctor.
Let me step down from my soapbox right now to say that I know that childhood obesity is a problem. Many kids today spend a ton of time seated. Whether it’s in front of the tv with video games blasting or in front of a computer surfing or from the front steps texting to seventeen friends at the same time, there’s no doubt that kids in general aren’t as active as they were when I was a kid.
Back to the soapbox.
It’s nobody’s business if I’ve tubbed out a little – or even a lot.
I’ve used this argument before but it seems to apply again – You can’t legislate morality.
You can’t make people diet. You can’t make people eat right. Even if you assign it a title like “self-destructive behavior,” you can’t make people stop it.
And yes, I know that there’s a whole bunch of them that aren’t going to be healthy in the next generation. And I know that there’s a social and community cost associated with that.
But even though I was raised in the country where we all rode bikes miles and miles and roamed the woods regularly, we had some fat kids too. Most of the kids who kept up with me, mile-for-mile, and who ate like I ate, were bigger than me.
I’m not saying that the endeavors are all bad and I’m certainly not pointing fingers at any of the local schools. The kids I know who got letters are from Arkansas, but not Clark County schools. And there’s no doubt that some of the efforts are reasonable and are probably paying off. But there has to be a limit to how far legislating good health can go.
So should the schools just give up on trying to demand that we raise a generation of healthier, svelte kids?
Yep.
And anyway, weren’t we just having conversations a few years ago about how we’re damaging their little psyches by handing out bad grades? How much worse is it to point out that they’re “fluffy.”
But I’ll finish this thought later. Right now I have to go restock my afternoon snack stash. I’m low on Twinkies.
Wendy Ledbetter is the editor of the Siftings Herald and can be reached at wendylledbetter@gmail.com
