'When we look out for our communal children, it makes our town, state, nation, and world stronger'

Sun, 03/01/2026 - 6:29pm

Ed O’Brien

The Ames’ boys, Robbie Jr. and Edwin, getting up to something in front of their Ducktrap home in 1925. (Photo courtesy of the Isabel Ames collection)

After my article last week, about snow, was published, I received a message from a Lincolnville girl I grew up with. She told me how she had been at the Camden Hills basketball game in Augusta, the one which let out into a snow squall. Seeing my kids there, she almost messaged me to make sure they got home safe. Route 3 was indeed a mess that evening.

What I didn’t add to last week’s column was that my kids were met halfway back from Augusta by the father of their passenger in his four-wheel drive, and who ended up escorting my daughter’s minivan the rest of the way to our house.

While my 18-year-old may be confident in her driving skills — and I have no reason to doubt this — as her parent I certainly do not mind the support of another parent.

I have a strong memory, forever burned in this aging brain, of a lecture by my father, some 40 years ago. I had gotten home from a bike ride with a buddy; remember when you were first allowed to ride your bike around town unsupervised?

Well, I wasn’t as unsupervised as I thought, as my parents had received a call that my friend and I were riding our bikes down Slab City, each on opposite sides of the road. My dad impressed upon me how dangerous this is. I remember feeling betrayed by whatever neighbor had narced on me, that I was apparently under constant surveillance.

Heh, to this day, every time I see kids biking on both sides of the street, and passing between them, I think about how foolhardy they are being, don’t they know how dangerous that is? If I knew who their parents were I’d send them a text.

Growing up as a kid in a small town, you never know who might be watching. You and your buddies are having a grand time, trying out all your best new swears while hanging out in downtown Camden, you get home, and someone called your mom. I wouldn’t personally know, but I assume this is also true in larger communities — somebody might be listening, and the corner store you are hanging out outside and acting like a hooligan may be the same place your mom shops. And the shopkeeper knows exactly who you are and who you belong to.

There is a cultural myth out there that we live or should live in a bubble, that all that matters is your immediate family, that as a parent we are only responsible for our own kids. This seems antithetical to what we are as an animal. Humans are pack creatures; we rely on complicated social networks, and nowhere is this truer than how we raise our children. To pull out an old proverb turned cliche, it does take a village.

For young Eddie, as annoying as it was to never know who might tell my parents how I was acting in public, there was a unrecognized sense of security in the fact that someone was looking out for me, when I was being a jerk, but also if I needed help.

I think it is okay to let people live their own lives, make their own choices. When it comes to our youth, however, I think it is okay to say something. To express concern in the face of risky behavior or situations, be it swearing in public, or driving in a snow storm.

My kids, the young people I work with in my day job, they don’t know yet that they will someday become their parents. It will come quicker than they can comprehend. They need to be allowed to discover their truths, to determine the adults they will become, but know there is a community invested in getting them there safely.

When we look out for our communal children, it makes our town, state, nation, and world stronger. Protect them, listen to them, believe them, learn from them while you teach them. Our youth are often far better at discerning the truth of the matter. With a career that has heavily involved working with adolescents, I can promise that no one can see through bullpuckey like a teenager.

Kids are going to make mistakes, this is one of their prime functions. As grumpy adults we love to complain about their behavior, conveniently forgetting that we did the same things, or worse.

Sympathy

To the family and loved ones of Patricia “Pat” (Miller) Jackson McNinch. Pat was one of the first two female select board members elected to serve Lincolnville. She was also an official at Bank of America for decades.

We made it to March, Lincolnville. Now we just need to “get over March hill” as the old timers would say, and we should be in the clear, barring an April snowstorm or two. My wife finally bought a decent brush/scraper for her truck the other day, in an effort to guarantee that the big storms are behind us.

Look out for each other, especially the young and the old. Be kind and reach out at ceobrien246@gmail.com

Municipal Calendar

Monday, March 2

Nomination for town elected offices available at Town Office

School Committee, 6 p.m. LCS

Tuesday, March 3

Library open 3-6 p.m. 208 Main Street

AA Meeting 12:15 p.m., Community Building, 18 Searsmont Road

School Committee Budget Workshop, 6 p.m., LCS

Wednesday, March 4

Comprehensive Plan Review Committee, 6 p.m., Town Office

Thursday, March 5