your present and your future.
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I WRITE these words looking out through the windows in the White House at the city of Washington in all its beauty and squalor, promise and despair. In the shadow of great power, so many feel powerless. These contradictions color my feelings when I think about my own child and all our children. My worry for these children has increased, but remarkably, so has my hope for their future.
We know much more now than we did even a few years ago about how the human brain develops and what children need from their environments to develop character, empathy, and intelligence. When we put this knowledge into practice, the results are astonishing. Also, because when I read, travel, and talk with people around the world, it is increasingly clear to me that nearly every problem children face today has been solved somewhere, by someone. And finally, because I sense a new willingness on the part of many parents and citizens to turn down the decibel level on our political conflicts and start paying attention to what works.
Thereâs an old saying I love: You canât roll up your sleeves and get to work if youâre still wringing your hands. So if you, like me, are worrying about our kids; if you, like me, have wondered how we can match our actions to our words, Iâd like to share with you some of the convictions Iâve developed over a lifetimeânot only as an advocate and a citizen but as a mother, daughter, sister, and wifeâabout what our children need from us and what we owe to them.
This book is not a memoir; thankfully, that will have to wait. Nor is it a textbook or an encyclopedia; it is not meant to be. It is a statement of my personal views, a reflection of my continuing meditation on children. Whether or not you agree with me, I hope it promotes an honest conversation among us.
This, then, is an invitation to a journey we can take together, as parents and as citizens of this country, united in the belief that children are what matterâmore than the size of our bank accounts or the kinds of cars we drive. As Jackie Kennedy Onassis said, âIf you bungle raising your children, I donât think whatever else you do matters very much.â That goes for each of us, whether or not we are parentsâand for all of us, as a nation.
In the pages that follow, we will consider some of the implications of what is known about the emotional and cognitive development of children. We will explore both big and bite-sized ideas we can put to work in our homes, schools, hospitals, businesses, media, churches, and governments to do a better job raising our own children, even when the odds seem weighted against us. Above all, we will learn ways to come together as a village to support and strengthen one anotherâs families and our own. Most of these lessons are simple, and some may seem self-evident. But itâs apparent that many of us have yet to learn them or to apply them in our families and communities.
These lessons come from family, friends, and neighbors; from dedicated volunteers and professionals; and from the many men and women whose passion is to see the promise of children fulfilled. I wish I had the space to introduce more than a few of the many people whose determination to help children has touched me and to describe more than a fraction of the innovative ways in which our villages are working right now to improve the lives and futures of my child and all our children.
Some lessons come from countries I have had the opportunity to visit. The sight of baby carriages left unattended outside stores on the streets of Copenhagen said more to me about the safety of Danish babies than any research study could, and it made me long to know what the Danes and other cultures might teach us. As Eleanor Roosevelt said, âThere is not one civilization, from the oldest to the very newest, from which we cannot learn.â
Perhaps most important are the lessons