Chelmsford - The Edge Magazine

SAY ‘HELLO’ TO A STRANGER....As regular readers of this column will know, I oftenshare my varied and sometimes confusing experiencesof being a single Dad.However, this month I have mostly been reflecting uponhow easily kids make friends.Recently me and my three-year old boy went along toOaklands Park with his little bike.‘The Boy’ loves to ride his bike around the circular paththere, giving me the opportunity to take the weight offmy feet and sit on a bench. It almost verges on thehypnotic as I watch ‘The Boy’ going continually aroundand around, first saying “hello” then “bye-bye” each andevery time he zooms past me.This time was different though as there was anotherboy already playing in the middle of the circular area.As soon as ‘The Boy’ saw ‘The Other Boy’ he abandonedhis bike and ran straight over to him. Upon peeringat each other from opposite sides of a tree, theybecame immediate friends. It all happened in an instantand was completely devoid of any language or anyother attempt at communication.They were simply both in the same park, around thesame age, the same height, and so they both establishedan instant bond.Immediately ‘The Boy’ took off his shoes and socks tomimic ‘The Other Boy’ who had bare feet and theyinvented a game which involved running around aftereach other on the grass. After studying this game forseveral minutes there was clearly a pattern beyondrandomly running around, but I could not pin-point whatit was or how they were communicating such betweenthemselves. But the key thing was that the boys certainlyknew the rules and were both smiling and playinghappily together.There is something reassuringly human about theinstantaneous bond that happens between childrenplaying together - even if such a friendship is only tem-Kids make friends easily, so what’s theproblem where adults are concerned?porary.In stark contrast to this, I was sat on the same benchwith the other boy’s Auntie and we certainly didn’tbecome the sort of instant friends that were able to runaround the park together and pull faces at each otherthrough gaps in the trees. Instead of that, we were bothdistracted by a mixture of using our ’phones and childobservance, so really we barely acknowledged eachothers presence.So the boys continued to socialise with each other andfurther develop their unique game of charging aroundwhilst me and the Auntie continued to isolate ourselves,instead choosing to socialise on our ’phones with peoplewho were not in the park at all, probably both usingFacebook.I did briefly chat to the Auntie before her and ‘her boy’left and she seemed nice, but it’s left me wonderingwhat happens between childhood and adulthood thatmakes us so socially reluctant. At what point do wedecide that making instantaneous friends is a badidea?I currently commute to work on the train and it neverceases to amaze me how many people it is possible tofit into a train carriage without any of them feeling theneed to talk to anyone else. I’m not sure of any otherby Robert Rutherfordenvironment on earth that you could cram the samenumber of human beings into without somebody talkingto someone else. As The Edge magazine has a distributionpoint at Chelmsford station, there are probablypeople reading this very article on a silent train filledwith other equally isolated commuters.However, if you were to put the same number of threeyearolds into the same train carriage, there would beabsolute mayhem. Friends would be made, gamesplayed, battles fought and wars won. Seats would beclimbed, songs would be sung, screams would beheard, but most importantly, lots of fun would be had.While I don’t suggest we all commute childishly, I dofeel it’s a shame that we have seemingly lost the abilityto make our brief human encounters into temporaryfriendships, like a three-year old would.When something detrimental happens, such as a trainbreaking down and causing chaos on the railway, peoplesuddenly start talking to each other about what ishappening and suddenly we all get along just fine. Butisn’t it a shame that we all seem to forget this by thevery next day’s commute.So why not try putting this mag down (sorry Mr Edge,but it’s a simple social experiment) and say ‘Hello’ to astranger one day instead. Whoever is closest to you.Just say ‘Hello’. Maybe they could even do with a chat.But if they seem puzzled at your attempt to communicate,then please just show them this article as justification.And, what’s more, I shall also try following myown advice by saying ‘Hello’ to Aunties that I meet inparks. Simply because I firmly believe that the worldwould become a better place for it.And do let us know if you end up saying ‘Hello’ tosomeone interesting - shaun@theedgemag.co.ukshaun@theedgemag.co.uk Page 29