How Are The Children?

In anticipation of students beginning the new school year today, the Superintendent of our local school district sent out an email which included this story.

How Are the Children?
Adapted from Patrick O’Neill

Among the most accomplished and fabled tribes of Africa, no tribe was considered to have warriors more fearsome or more intelligent than the mighty, lion-hunting Maasai. It is perhaps surprising then, to learn the traditional greeting that passed between Maasai warriors, “Kasserian Ingera,” one would always say to another. In Swahili, this means, “And how are the children?” “Sepati Ingera!” one hoped to hear, “The children are well!”

It is still the traditional greeting among the Maasai, acknowledging the high value that the Maasai always place on their children’s well-being. Even warriors with no children of their own would always give the traditional answer, “All the children are well.” Meaning, of course, that peace and safety prevail, that the priorities of protecting the young, the powerless, are in place. That Maasai society has not forgotten its reason for being, its proper functions, and responsibilities. “All the children are well” means that life is good. It means that the daily struggles for existence do not preclude proper caring for their young.

In his email, he goes on to encourage all of us to keep the question “How are the children?” in mind both as we go about our daily round and also as we make decisions which affect the communities in which we live. You can read his entire post here.

I appreciate the story and am grateful he shared it with the community.
But, it begs the next question.
Whose children are we talking about?
Those children who look like our children?
Those children who live on our street or down the road?
What about those children? The ones over there?
How large a circle are we willing to draw around our lives as we ask and do our best to answer that question?

How are the children when some are afraid to go to school not because of school, but because they are afraid their parents might not be there when they come home?

How are the children on a day when DACA has been rescinded?

How are the children when some face the hurdles others don’t just because of the color of their skin or their ethnicity?

How are the children when classroom walls crumble or are flooded with water?

How are the children when parents are absent and communities unravel or slowly disappear?

How are the children when privilege and prosperity color the way they look at and interact with others?

All this reminds me of the question “Who is my neighbor?” A question asked of Jesus in a story found in Christian scripture. A question which I continue to believe is the most important religious question we can ask and grapple with today.

The question is real.
And, important.
And, waits for our response.
How large a circle are you willing to draw around your life?