Our Children's Expectations

“I know what makes evil in the world,” my five year old announced for no reason apparent to me.


“Really what?”


“One day somebody made a mistake and didn’t tell.”


Our goal was to raise our children “Catholic without the guilt” and she had not yet heard the word sin from us, but her imagination often took her to places of wisdom, and on this day she defined “Original Sin” for me.


In the aftermath of the Tucson shootings, the media has been attempting to find reasons that will stop our grieving. I’ve listened to pundits both left and right analyze political conversations as far back as the death of Alexander Hamilton at the hand of Aaron Burr to explain and/or justify the collective/individual American psyche which celebrates free speech that may or may not lead to violence because while one may not "falsely shout Fire in a crowded theater", one may carry a handgun into it.


I’ve listened to conversations about mental illness that attempt to explain the complexity of our brains but still leave people believing that “if only someone had done something” maybe the tragedy would not have happened.

"We should do everything we can to make sure this country lives up to our children's expectations," the president said at the memorial service for the Tucson victims.

Thirty years ago my daughter set the bar very high.

“Try to do right.” ‘Fess up when you’re wrong.”