I've actually thought a lot about the pictures thing. Some friends of mine have had children in the last few years and they post a lot of pictures on Facebook. I think this actually raises considerable ethical issues because if I were in that situation, grew to some level of self-awareness, and realized my baby pictures were all over the internet I would be absolutely furious. I understand that like parents get a lot of joy out of kids and want to share that, but it seems like there should also be some consideration of the fact that babies cannot consent to this stuff. I was reading an article about child "influencers" on Insta whose parents literally exhaustively plan every aspect of their lives to be a sponsored post and it just straight-up disgusted me, I don't normally play the role of the curmudgeon but I gotta say that if exhaustively documenting your life (let alone your five-year-old child's life) on social media to build a "brand" is the future then let's go back to the past...
One of the things the funeral home was pushing when I made the arrangements for my dad's cremation was posting a photo and obituary on their website.
I said absolutely not, that I have never posted any family member's photo other than my cats, due to identity theft concerns. I reminded them that there are people who only read obituaries to find identities to steal - easy enough if the obituary lists such handy snippets as the mother's maiden name, where the deceased went to school, what degrees they may have, where they worked, etc. So I said that if I wanted to have an obituary for him, I'd write it myself, and there would be no pictures.
Gotta be honest with you, that description either paints schooling in the 60s as a hellscape or it implies your definition of bullying has a fairly low bar.
I'm leaning towards the former, of course. It's my understanding back then something like a teacher beating a student was cool beans, at least in Europe. My dad's teacher in Belgium had a metal ruler she'd slap kids with.
Well, I am old enough to have gone to school in the '60s (I started Grade 1 in 1969). Yes, there was bullying going on, some of it very serious. Back in those days it was taken for granted that misbehaving students were likely to get the strap (I never did, but did get detention once). I remember one incident in Grade 4 (1971) when a particularly uncooperative, all-around "bad" kid finally pushed the teacher to the point of frustration where she told him to bend over a table and she took the yardstick to his backside. He just would not behave. And he grinned throughout the whole thing, pleased that he had made the teacher so angry.
Of course nowadays, any teacher doing that would be arrested for assault.
Though I don't miss trying to schedule life around air times or trying to tape stuff with a vcr.
One of the most useful things I ever learned to do was program a VCR.
And I do worry that anyone born after 2000 simply will not know how to go moderate to long periods of time without stimulus.
I even find myself having a much shorter attention span than I used to have. But I can still just sit quietly and let various scenes and dialogue for this ongoing story I started during NaNoWriMo last November play out in my head, trying out various ideas and seeing if they're something I would want to include in the written story.
I'd make up adventure stories in my head. I started to actually look forward to that quiet time. I wonder if constant entertainment will stifle their creativity.
Have you ever written any of them down?
And people her age and a bit younger are like always mad they don't get to say Checkoslovakia or Jugoslavia anymore
They can if they sing along with the theme song of "Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?".
Most men wearing hats was common until the 1960s. Then the basic men's fedora and caps disappeared. Hair flourished! Hats went dormant until the baseball cap brought about a revival of men's head wear.
I was at the nursing home this morning, packing up my dad's clothes. I found about half a dozen caps, several toques, and a couple of fedoras. My grandfather usually wore a fedora when he went out, and this occurred well into the 1980s (he died in 1986).