Boys will be boys ..if they are allowed to be.

An eight year old boy was suspended from school recently because he had a toy gun with him. He didn't brandish the plastic piece, it was in his overnight bag. He was going to his friends house for a sleepover, and mentioned that he brought it so they could play together later. Someone overheard that he had it, and he was suspended. In another incident, a Policeman stopped and questioned two boys when he saw one chasing the other with a gun, a toy gun, in their own yard. They were playing cops and robbers, the boy with the gun was playing the police. And in another more tragic occurrence, a teenage boy was killed by a policeman while he carried a pellet gun replica of an "assault rifle", and a toy pistol that belonged to a friend. You know the stories, probably have a few of your own like this." Boys will be boys" it is said. Boys being boys isn't what it used to be.

Now, before you go thinking that I'm going to rant about police brutality and gun control, let me clarify. My wife has been involved in law enforcement for over twenty years, and so has my son-in-law. I count among my friends a county sheriff or two, deputies, a Chief of Police, and employees of the  State Police. I have cousins who were detectives, state policemen and a Circuit Judge. I fully understand how difficult law enforcement is these days. Much of the time, members of the justice system feel like they are working with one hand tied behind their backs. Law enforcement is not the problem in this country, outside of the few bad apples that cast a negative light on it sometimes.

  I live in rural America, and have been a hunter since I was old enough to tag along with my great-grandpa, grandpa, cousins and uncles. I am not, therefore, a gun control advocate by any means. I  do understand though, the voiced concerns of many about full auto assault rifles needing to be monitored and restricted. I am a strong believer in teaching children young, to understand that a firearm can maim or kill; that it's not like on a video game where you can hit stop and return to normal after someone is shot. A gun is to be respected as a useful but potentially dangerous tool that, if used properly, can put food on the table, provide target marksmanship, and protect your family and hard won possessions.  No, guns are not the problem in this country. Parenting is.

Teaching children the hard realities of this life is the key to saving them and others from a lot of heartache and grief down the road. It is an easy thing to donate sperm and become a father. It is a mighty task, however to become a Dad. Giving birth will make a woman a mother, but a life of dedication makes her a Mom. Just having kids and allowing them to grow up is easy. Raising kids, however, is a long and challenging effort. Parenting is hard work at times. And that is why many kids are not raised, they just grow up. Far too many people are too lazy to be good parents.

When you raise children, you teach them that they will not always be number one. They are taught that some kids will be better at certain things than they will be. That is reality, and it's OK. You teach them that they won't always be the winner, but being a participator is so worthwhile. You teach them to speak up when they need to, but to make every effort to listen more. You teach that it's okay not to like something that everyone else seems to, but that just because they don't like a thing, doesn't mean no one else should either. You teach them not to drink or text and drive; because a car can kill you and others if not responsibly driven. You teach them that a gun can kill if not responsibly used also. You teach them to own up to mistakes, and not place blame. You teach them responsibility. I was taught these things by my parents and family, and my friends.

When I was a child I played with toy guns, sometimes every day. My friends, brother, and I played cowboys and Indians.  Boys will be boys.... We didn't hate Indians. We had an uncle and a one great-grandfather who were Native American. Heck, we loved Tonto on the Lone Ranger. We just played good cowboys chasing some bad Indians. We played cops and robbers. We played soldiers, and in those days it was the (gasp) Germans or "Japs" we were after. World War Two was still fresh on our grandparents' and aunts and uncles minds, and the Korean war had just ended the year I was born.We were taught repeatedly, however, that not all Indians, Germans, or Asians were bad; the rulers or governments at the time may well have been evil, but most of the people were certainly not.  We were also taught not to point even a toy gun at people in an angry or threatening manner. Guns could hurt terribly or kill.The key is we were taught.

I was taught so well that when I was ten years old I was given a .22 caliber rifle by my grandpa. His dad had given it to him. It was a 1935 Harrington Richardson. It still hangs on my wall in the den today. I was instructed how to use it...safely. "Carry the gun with the barrel down, safety on. Don't load till you're ready to shoot. Never point at anything you don't intend to kill. And never, ever kill needlessly." I had all this instruction and more. After practicing, and demonstrating good gun safety for awhile on hunts with others, at just ten years old, I went to the woods alone to hunt.

I'll never forget the first time I killed. There was a certain kind bird in Kentucky that my great-uncle hated. It robbed the eggs out of songbirds nests. He told me to shoot all of them I could. On a beautiful fall morning I was out in the colorful frosty woods, squirrel hunting for the first time. It wasn't long before I spotted one of these birds, took aim, and shot it. I was jubilant over my good marksmanship.  I watched the bird plummet to the ground, and went to pick it up.  I felt the warmth of the soft feathered body in my hands. As I looked at this pretty bird I suddenly didn't feel victorious. Honestly, I felt a little sick. I couldn't eat this bird for food, and even though it was a nest robber, it was how God made it. I felt I had killed needlessly, and all the wishing in the world would not put that bird back to flight again. Although I had a great deal of respect for my WWII  Army veteran uncle, and would do anything he asked, I couldn't shoot another of those birds again. Never did. At ten years old I learned a valuable lesson about gun control, it's about thinking things through to the end. It's also about impulse control.

In the Navy during Desert Storm, I was trained in firearms again. These weren't just guns, they were weapons. I was trained to kill using them; along with a knife and my hands. I was taught how best to protect myself...and to kill another human being. I am grateful that I never had to. Many did, and most felt the way I did that first day in the woods with my gun, looking down at that bird. They were right in doing what they did, they were justified, but very, very few enjoyed it. It made some a little sick. Once the shot is fired there is no coming back, but sometimes shoot you must . Good teaching makes you know the difference between when and when not to place your finger on the trigger.

Parents have to begin early to teach a child right from wrong, good from bad, and how not to yield to impulse when that right or wrong line is a little blurry. Of course, there are some children who are challenged and can't understand. I get that. But for the vast majority of those who are capable, it's up to parents to guide them. It's not chance, that too often children go off the deep end and kill others. Often, I'm afraid, it's a lack of good early parenting, and the ability to choose wisely, that can be blamed.

"Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it." Solomon wrote that a couple of thousand years ago. It made sense then. It makes sense now; in a world where little else does anymore. Maybe, if the world gets back to raising kids, instead of coddling to them and/or just letting them grow up, just maybe the day will come when kids can be kids. Maybe boys (and girls) can play good guys verses bad guys or hunters against ferocious beasts, with toy guns and swords in the guilt free privacy of their yards and homes. Maybe parents won't get condescending looks from self righteous know-it-alls when they buy a toy gun for their child at the store. Maybe, just maybe, boys will be boys again. And those boys can grow up to be healthy, contributing, responsible men.