From the street the play yard looks idyllic. The children are running from sun to shade, happy at their play (or at least intent on it). The air is filled with high-pitched shouts and cries.
But up close where I am, leaning against one of the stanchions of the front porch with my arms crossed, you can see the faces of the individual toddlers. They look vacant and shell-shocked to me. My daughter Mara is out there by the sandbox. It's her second day of preschool...
Mara asks me to do a high pony one morning, and my gut response is to turn her down.
"I'm not too good at it," I say. "You should ask your mother..."
Mara's kindergarten teacher Mrs. D. comes up to my bellybutton when I'm standing, but who stands for long in her classroom? Before you can say “Jack Robinson” she’s got me squatting like a POW in one of the midget chairs, facing Mara and the other six members of the Dark Green Group...
The feelings that play across the face of my five-year-old son Josh are not hard to read. He’s watching his favorite superheroes the Power Rangers, and the sight of his pleasurable turmoil, mirrored so vividly in his eyes and mouth, transports me back to my own childhood, when I spent hours devouring the comic-book exploits of Superman, Flash, Green Lantern, and the Justice League of America.
Nothing is more absurd on the surface than the thought of these heroes we both love needing defense. They seem awesomely self-sufficient. The Power Rangers command great resources of combat know-how and science. Superman could carry an ocean liner through the air. Green Lantern could floor an enemy with a fist made entirely of green energy.
And yet our superheroes are in danger today...