
Insights
and Perspectives of the Judaeo-Christian Heritage
and their Implications for a National Commission
Paper
given to the Annual Forum of the
Christian Child Care Fellowship,
11 February 2004
by
Keith White


Since
last being with you it has been my privilege to speak with Christians
engaged in work with and for children in need in several parts
of the world. In the Philippines I was moved to tears by street
children dancing to Christian songs as part of the opening worship
of a national conference, and by an art exhibition by some of
the same children, including the picture here today painted by
an eight year old boy from the streets of Cebu.
The
movement of the children in space and colours, in a room and on
canvas, connected me deeply with some of the treasures of the
Judaeo-Christian faith. One of the nagging questions that comes
to mind is how far the annual reports, the policies and the activities
of the Christian child care organisations in the United Kingdom
are drawing from, connecting with and communicating these treasures.
If
I am particularly stirred by the Judaeo-Christian heritage as
I speak with you today, it may be that sixteen years working on
a new Bible specifically for those at risk, on the margins and
outside the Church or Christian worldview, has revealed to me
just how rich, unfathomable and glorious are the resources God
has entrusted to us, and how earthly and frail are our expressions
of them. To change the metaphor, perhaps the best that can be
said of us is that there is an occasional candle-like flicker
compared to the radiance of the rising dawn sun of the Son of
Righteousness described in Malachi.
I
propose to examine just three elements of our heritage: the Scriptures;
our current practical resources; and the potential of Child Theology.
We begin with the Scriptures.

No
description of the Judaeo-Christian heritage would be adequate
without reference to the sacred texts without which we would not
be here today. We cannot hope to summarise them, but let us highlight
four of the priceless treasures that would enrich childhood in
the UK were they better known, appreciated and lived out.
The
Commandments On Sunday I had the joy of leading morning worship
at a small nonconformist church in Essex. It was an “all
age service”. One of the radical things we did was to gather
in families, couples, or small groups of friends in order to read
out loud and respond to the Ten Commandments. That’s rare
in the UK nowadays.
The
best children get is a summary of the Law. Normally at church
and school there is no reference year by year to one of the great
heritages of our faith; one of the gifts of Yahweh to and through
His chosen people; one of the fundamental building blocks of any
civil community or society.
Pause
for a moment to imagine what it is like for a young person to
be with friends and peers in a supermarket without the injunction
not to steal being taught from an early age. Picture young people
reading magazines, watching television, videos and attending parties
without being taught that God forbids adultery, that sexual behaviour
is intended to be expressed within covenant relationships. Think
of children and young people being bombarded with media marketing
and having no inkling that all this is a direct temptation to
break the last of the Ten Commandments.
We
are allowing children to become fodder for the global marketing
process, that is seeking to disconnect them from any notion that
they are created in the divine image, and seeking to remake them
as worshippers of the current golden calves: in a word given the
status above all others of consumers or customers.
We
are concerned in our society about “child protection”.
In short this is taken to mean that children and young people
are safe from the unwanted and inappropriate advances and intrusions
of others into their lives. The focus of much attention is the
bodies of children (sociologists know the significance of this
trend in every area of social life). But what of the protection
of children’s minds, emotions, morals and spirits? The Ten
Commandments are a God-given, God-blessed package commended by
the experience of peoples through history. We dare not re-write
them. We cannot continue to marginalise them.
The
Commandments are not only about individuals: they are about relationships
and patterns of social life. They are based on a fundamental understanding
of how God modelled and intends human life and activity. I have
taken particular interest in residential and dispersed religious
communities to see how they shape the daily, weekly and yearly
individual and social lives of their members. Critical to the
whole endeavour is the notion of creating space, safe space, if
you will.
Is
this a key to understanding the whole of God’s intention
for the human race from Eden to the New Jerusalem: creating the
ideal space in which we can flourish together, young and old,
male and female, and from every culture and faith? Just pause
to reflect who or what is in control of shaping your social patterns,
space and life, and that of the next generation right now.
Do
you see it? Corporations out of sight and beyond the control of
most governments are ceaselessly and remorselessly transforming
social communications (and sociologists like Castells would argue,
our own identities) into their own image. Twenty-four hour television,
Internet, shopping, convenience food; 30% of households in the
UK occupied by just one person and rising.
At
Mill Grove we have the primary and awesome responsibility of responding
to the cries of children and families in need (that, as you know,
has deep biblical resonance with the cry of the abandoned Ishmael,
and later the Hebrews in slavery). As a result of over a century
of experience, with many failures, we have arrived at a pattern
of life that is described thus: “We believe that shared
living based on God-given rhythms and patterns can provide a therapeutic
context in which the deepest personal and social wounds can be
healed, and creative growth and expression encouraged.”
These
rhythms include day and night, Shabbat (a day of rest), seasons,
holidays and celebrations. The globalisation process is systematically
tending to deprive us of these foundational patterns. A good childhood
will need to re-configure social life and patterns: not as if
there was a golden age, but in line with the revealed will of
the Creator as seen in creation and the commandments.
The
Great Stories and Narratives Those of us fortunate enough to be
in the position to tell Bible stories to children and young people
know what incomparable treasures they include. There is not time
to go through them now (perhaps the “Narrative” Bible
will help to re-acquaint some of us with the full range.
Neither
is there time to develop a therapeutic theoretical understanding
of how stories are vital to the healing process. I must refer
you for this to the work of a late friend and colleague, Bruce
Reed whose book The Dynamics of Religion (DLT, 1989),
breaks completely new ground in applying the work of Bion and
Winnicott in this respect. There is also the pioneering work of
the psychologist Dr. Gundelina Velazco in her project, The
Pavement Project.
I
have tried from time to time in my columns in journals to emphasise
the essential role of story in child development and learning.
What Bruce and Gundelina do is to apply this knowledge to their
practice of worship and interaction with children at risk respectively.
So archetypal stories and roles such as the loving parent, the
good shepherd, the servant king, the wise counsellor, the safe
haven, the rainbow, the friendly garden or city, and so on, are
seen to be vital contexts or containers in which the child or
young person’s traumas, fears, anxieties can be re-connected,
relived, explored and transcended or worked through.
For
twenty years in leading worship and living alongside and seeking
to help such children and young people I have been able to witness
at first hand the healing dynamics that are at work. This is one
of the reasons why I continue to tell the story of the first encounter
between Thomas Barnardo and Jim Jarvis as told by Wesley Bready
in his biography: “Have you ever heard of Jesus?”
When
Barnardo realised that Jim did not know Jesus, we read: “Barnardo
lost not a moment in relating to the urchin the story of Bethlehem’s
Babe. He told him of Jesus’ tenderness and compassion, His
sympathy and mercy, of His love for children, of His miracles
of healing, and how He preached the Gospel to the poor…”
It sounds so quaint and dated, but is there a better story or
narrative within which to relate?
I
confess that I am puzzled by the selection processes that go into
the making of modern Christian song or hymn books. There is much
that seems content-free, mantra-like and banal. And among the
casualties are hymns like “There were ninety and nine”
and “I will sing the wondrous story of the Christ who died
for me”. What do these hymns have in common? A narrative
that can enfold the singer, allowing her to identify with the
lost sheep and to experience what it is to be valued, searched
for, carried, brought safely home and reintegrated into social
life. Such stories are treasures of inestimable worth in our care
of children.

I
have, of course, been pondering what specific or possibly unique
resources and insights Christians bring to the proposed national
commission. The point I am trying to make is a very simple one:
far from arcane or complicated.
Put
crisply, it is that we are living in a world in which the very
notion of time is changing before our eyes: it is collapsing with
space into an increasingly frenetic present. We can connect instantly
with the whole electronic world, where a century before there
would have been months of risky travel. We can search whole libraries
for a word or book in five seconds or less. Economics has become
obsessed with short-term calculations and benefits (see Will Hutton,
The State We’re In), and politics seems to be about
managing the day’s media challenges, or possibly the next
week’s. To get a government to look beyond an election is
largely wishful thinking. Our organisations are caught up in all
this: a mass of short-term targets, initiatives, outcomes, projects,
policy documents and the like. Our social policy officers, if
we have them, are expected to be right up to speed with the progress
of the very latest green paper or bill.
But
where is the perspective that takes a long-term, generational
view of life and community? You cannot read the Bible without
coming to see that God’s thoughts are not our thoughts,
His ways are not our ways, and His timescale is not ours. So who
is bringing to bear the longer-term agenda and trends? Who is
thinking about and planning for the next generation, children’s
children? One of the things a national commission on children
and young people implies is just such a perspective on things.
We
have to pause, to take stock, and to reflect and ponder deeply
on things. We need to see how developments and trends link up,
to begin to sense the bigger, overall picture and direction of
social life. As I have talked with people about a commission one
of the commonest responses has been a sense of relief: why hadn’t
we thought of that?! It’s so obvious that that’s what
we need. We are all, perhaps largely unwittingly, caught up in
a maelstrom of activity and deflected from biblical insights and
intimations.
Children’s
and youth projects and services are bedevilled by short-termism.
Surely we can do better than that? Is not the rainbow promise
still valid? Is not the covenant of Jesus sealed with His blood
still operative? Are not the mercies of the Lord new every morning
without fail? Do we not sing “Great is Thy faithfulness”?
So how can we settle for what is passing, throw-away and second
best for our children?
Mia
Kellmer Pringle was one who was brave enough to speak out in the
interests of children arguing that parents should commit themselves
to stay and work together for the benefit of their children for
at least the period of their childhood. Is that too much to ask?
And what of those of us who say we are committed to the welfare
of children? Do our personal aspirations and careers take precedence?
I was reprimanded for saying this at a professional Christian
gathering a year or two ago, but starting with the interests of
children I do not see how we can avoid asking such questions.
Visions
of how we should live While in the Philippines I spent a Sunday
in my room in Manila unable for very practical reasons to link
up with Christian communities. In preparation for papers I was
giving at conferences later that week I wondered what the full
range and scope was of visions, promises and templates that God
gave to His chosen people and servants.
So,
using a well-tried method, I skim-read the Old Testament noting
such passages. I got to Isaiah during the day, and haven’t
been able to complete the task yet. But I was completely taken
aback, if not overwhelmed, by the wealth of material; the scale
and grandeur, the detail of such visions. Obviously, I can’t
do any more today than be indicative, as I have been at previous
annual events of CCCF. Let me remind you of one or two:
-
The Peaceable Kingdom (Isaiah 11: 6-9)
- New Heavens and a New Earth (Isaiah 65: 17-25)
- A New City (Zechariah 8: 3-5)
One
of the practices that has been rendered almost invisible by our
handling of the biblical narratives, and that must be eradicated
if these visions are to become realities, is that of child sacrifice.
It is a recurrent theme in the Old Testament. Can it be that we
think the practice has ceased? Sadly from what Dennis Wrigley
has described and from figures world-wide it could be argued that
one of the most common social activities in the contemporary world
is the sacrifice of children on the altars of our adult gods.
So,
in the name of liberal democracy and freedom, children and young
people have televisions, mobile phones and videos in their private
space, ideal conditions for the global predators who would consume
them as market statistics. A teenager returns from Rome having
just spent £12,000 on his father’s credit card that
he stole. He comes with his mother to see me, and shows me what
he has bought: it is everything to him, and the thought that the
action was wrong just doesn’t figure in his worldview.
On
the flip side we are seeing millions of people who are worthless,
and who don’t count on any balance sheets because they have
no money. They are presented with the sickening advertising images
that dangle daily before them versions of utopia that they will
never experience. Many spend what little they have on the lottery,
out of despair: a chronic acknowledgement that they are in the
hands of a fate determined by the global elite who neither know
them, nor care about them.
Millions
of child prostitutes have their identities, their virtue, their
futures taken from them as an insatiable industry thrives on arousing
the sexual desires of adults, an inevitable and unspoken effect
of which is eventually to recreate children as sexual creatures.
Child soldiers indoctrinated and motivated by adult communal and
religious agendas kill and maim other children. Children worldwide
have had nightmares since 9/11 as a result of a clash of adult
ideologies. Is it possible that future historians will see child
sacrifice in this sense as one of the defining features of what
we have dared to term “western civilisation”?
Whether
this is so or not, Jesus was completely uncompromising in challenging
adults and adult systems that hurt or maimed little ones: the
adults needed to change their ways drastically, even to the extent
of plucking out their own eyes and cutting off limbs if this would
prevent them from harming children (Matthew 18).
There
is no short-cut to the implementation of even the rudimentary
beginnings of these visions, until we have paused to assess the
intended and unintended, conscious and unconscious, direct and
indirect effect our adult ways of life have had on the lives of
children. Let there be no mistake about it: we are talking here
of major surgery to our values and way of life!

A
week or so ago I was with a Director of Education of a London
Borough. She was seeking to explain the disparity of resources
between the statutory and voluntary sectors in provision for children
and young people: her right hand was raised above her shoulder
to demonstrate the massive financial and human resources represented
by the former. Then she pointed with her left hand below knee
height. This was the comparatively small strength of the voluntary
sector. And many would think that this represents a fair portrayal
of the situation. After all isn’t millions spent on educational,
social, and health services for children by central and local
government? Yes, millions are spent and there are many schools
and nurseries.
But
let’s pause to reconsider the matter. Who pays the local
authorities and Government? How many said they were Christians
in the 2001 census? Over 70% of the British population. How many
church fellowships are there in the UK, most with their own buildings
and community facilities? Over 50,000. They run over 14,000 pre-school
nurseries and mother and toddler groups, and 3,700 after-school
clubs. There are national Christian child care organisations of
considerable size. There are hundreds of Christian schools. There
are 144,000 community-based projects or initiatives run by churches.
And there are dozens of Christian organisations like Crusaders
and Boys’ Brigade devoted to the nurture and rounded development
of young people.
There are hundreds of thousands of Christian parents and grandparents
who are seeking to provide the very best for their children. Possibly
someone has tried to cost all this. I don’t know, but it
is certain that the Director of Education wasn’t thinking
in this way. We need a paradigm shift of Copernican proportions
to change such town-hall and state-centred thinking.
The
state is dependent on families and communities for the well-being
of our children. For too long the decision-making has been in
the hands of professionals, transnational corporations and governments.
They are not capable unaided of providing a vision for the future
of the children of our nation, for a number of pretty obvious
reasons.
The
Green Paper, Every Child Matters, is an object lesson
in the difficulty a government has in trying to shape a long-term
strategic vision. From a rounded and authoritative base of personal
and professional knowledge and experience Christians have much
to offer. We know that the Treasury understands this. We know
that Paul Boateng is convinced of the value of “Faithworks”.
What
we are bringing in short is experience, knowledge, practical wisdom,
and a range of perspectives informed and inspired by our Christian
faith. Let me remind you of the raison d’être of CCCF.
It is spelt out in Issue 21 of the newsletter, and perhaps should
be reprinted in every publication. We have a shared vision of
contemporary society in which children and young people have a
rightful place (that was on the back of your invitation to today’s
event!).
There
are then seven distinctive contributions of the Christian child
care sector:
-
our faith basis;
- theological understanding of individual development and relationships
and the spiritual element of the whole of life;
- vocation (that’s a word almost as rarely used in child
care now as love!);
- roots in and relationships with local communities;
- links with other faith communities, as well as ethnic diversity
within our fellowships;
- a willingness to provide services distinctive from or complementary
to the formal care system;
- a desire to optimise Christian support in response to the needs
of children and families in the UK.
That
is a special brew! It’s possible that it could reach parts
of the nation that other beers can’t reach!
Why
is this huge resource and potential so little recognised? For
a number of reasons, not least because of attention to the multi-faith,
multi-cultural nature of our society. But it also has to do with
a state-centred view of service provision, and a lack of recognition
that true and effective preventative care and services begin in
the family and community and are enabled by the faith and moral
foundations laid by Christian commitment.
But
it is also because we have allowed our voice to be silenced. When
I was a young professional in child care one of the highlights
of the year was the NCH Annual Convocation Lecture. I was thrilled
and honoured when I was invited to give one myself, following
in the shoes of great heroes. It sought to integrate professional
insights and a faith commitment and values. Little did I know
that mine was to be the last such lecture! (I have always felt
just a little responsible for their demise.) Another platform
was closed.
Our
child care organisations have become detached or semi-detached
from the mainstream denominations and worshipping Christian communities.
We need to reconnect them so that the lifeblood can flow more
freely between them, and so that we can hold conversations with
national and local government informed by shared experiences.
Many of us here today are the prophets needed by church and state:
we know how things are for children and young people. This knowledge
is an invaluable commodity and resource and we must not, dare
not keep silent.
And,
my friends, we have a long history of trying to help teach and
care for children and we have made many mistakes. One of the things
we should bring is an appropriate humility to the commission and
to our statutory partners.
There
is also a burgeoning Christian-inspired, spiritually aware literature
opening our eyes to the spiritual. I have mentioned a number of
writers and books before. Indeed I have quoted from them despite
the pleas of the Chair to be brief! So let me mention just two.
I read last week, Through a Glass Darkly, by Jostein
Gaarder, the author of Sophie’s World. It tells
the story of the encounter between a dying girl and her guardian
angel. Thank you, Kathryn Copsey for commending it to me, and
my daughter Sarah for lending me her copy! It opened a whole new
set of perspectives and horizons on childhood, Christmas, attachment
and loss, therapy and bereavement. A far cry from one of those
serious and dull tomes on bereavement counselling!
And
then that poem to which I return, sensing that in it there is
a primal insight into the very heart of parenting, teaching and
child care. It’s by Jane Clement, a teacher in the Bruderhof
schools.
Child,
though I take your hand
and walk in the snow;
though we follow the track of the mouse together.
Though we try to unlock the mystery
of the printed work, and slowly discover
why two and three makes five
always, in an uncertain world -
Child,
though I am meant to teach you much,
what is it, in the end,
except that together we are meant to be children
of the same Father
and I must unlearn
all the adult structure
and the cumbering years
and you must teach me
to look at the earth and the heaven
with your fresh wonder
I
long for the day when our libraries will be bursting with books
that instinctively link the different elements of good child care,
teaching, parenting and youth work in such symbolic and holistic
ways.
And
this gives me the opportunity to mention specifically the book
Celebrating Children that was reviewed in the CCCF newsletters,
and one of whose editors, Jo Wright, is with us today. It is a
pioneering venture that has some rough edges, but I commend it
to you. The space that David Evans mentioned at the outset of
the forum that allows our professional and faith worlds to inform
and converse with each other has made such a work possible. It
is not without significance that several of the contributors have
found CCCF important in their own development. Thank you, Jo,
for all you have done on our behalf.

This
is the final insight or perspective that we note today. Two years
ago almost to the day I presented a paper with the rather arresting
title, Child Theology is Born. I am happy to tell you
that it has now been successfully weaned and is toddling across
the world! For any who are interested I can of course provide
details. But let me give a flavour of what it is about, and what
it is making possible.
Put
simply, it seeks to bring a whole new light onto, or perspective
from which to review, the fundamental theology of the Church.
We have become used to this sort of insight in such developments
as feminist theology, black theology, liberation theology, green
theology and the like. They start with a group, or a social context
or issue, and re-explore the whole Christian teaching, including
the Scriptures, theology, church and mission, with this in mind.
We
have all benefited from or been challenged by such insights. I
have spent five years reading the Scriptures over the shoulder
of an Indian woman’s reformer for example, and it has transformed
my understanding of the Bible, of church, of theological training
and mission. Child theology takes as its starting point the action
and teaching of Jesus when he placed a little child among his
disciples and taught them uncompromisingly about the nature of
the kingdom of heaven, about becoming like a child, about receiving
a child, about the dire punishment that was merited by child abuse.
It
is a journey of discovery that is continuing worldwide. It has
many facets and implications but the one I would like to leave
with you today is that of the connection and integration that
it is making possible between a variety of different discourses.
Here are some examples.
The
much-needed link between educational theories of child learning
and development and Christian insights and perspectives is now
being explored on a global scale. (It has been going on for decades
in particular areas and denominations.)
One
of the most exciting manifestations is the whole approach to learning
called, Godly Play, pioneered by Jerome Berryman. (The UK centre
at Cambridge is headed presently by Rebecca Nye, whose book (written
with David Hay), The Spirit of the Child, I have quoted
at previous annual gatherings of CCCF.) Once you have encountered
it you know that we have been missing something vital in our approach
to Sunday School, children’s church, and education as a
whole.
There
is a rich heritage of learning and research underpinning this
work, and there will be a conference in Houston Texas this May
to reflect together from across the world. The 14,000 Christian
nurseries and mother and toddler groups may not know it, but this
is what they have been longing for. Churches do not realise it;
families likewise. But it is coming. It starts by taking Jesus
seriously and putting the little child in the midst. The result
thus far is worship, learning and story-telling of the highest
order and quality.
Then
there is the glimpse of the possibility of an integration of professional
and Christian concepts and perspectives in child development.
Jo Wright and I have begun to do some work on this, and you will
find the preliminary findings in Celebrating Children.
What I have been doing over a period of twenty or so years, while
engaged in caring for children and young people, is to summarise
and crystallise the essential insights of child care theorists
such as Piaget, Erikson, Klein, Winnicott, Rutter and many others
with a view to seeing what they had in common.
I
was looking, as Kellmer Pringle had in her book, The Needs of
Children, at the common elements and threads running through quite
distinctive and in certain respects contradictory accounts of
child development, cognitive, emotional, physical, social and
spiritual. At the same time I trawled the Scriptures looking for
the core elements of a biblical understanding of what was required
for children and human beings to thrive.
I
was little short of thrilled to discover that the two sources
of knowledge (or “truth”, if you will) revealed an
agreed subtext. There were five basic needs that had to be met,
conditions that must be fulfilled, if any child was to realise
the potential to love and be loved that is the reflection of the
divine image. Likewise they needed to be met in carers, lest the
carer fell into the trap of meeting his or her own needs at the
expense of the child.
These
basic needs are for:
-
Security (a secure base),
- Significance (at least one significant other unconditionally
committed to the child,
- Boundaries (consistent and reliable physical and moral example),
- Community (relationships beyond immediate nuclear and extended
family),
- Creativity (to play, make, shape, dance, laugh and all the rest).
The
beauty of this short list is that it encapsulates most of what
we know and believe about good-enough parenting or substitute
parenting, it is applicable to all types of setting, cultures
and environments, it provides a bridge between Christian and professional
perspectives, and it is a framework that can be used to assess
any initiative aimed at helping children. Jo Wright has shown
how this can be integrated with work that builds on children’s
resilience and a HESED model of releasing the potential of children.
You will find all this, in a raw and pioneering form in Celebrating
Children.
There
is, as we heard last year at the Forum and represented by some
here today, much progress in the area of the spirituality of children
and young people. Once again, what is happening indicates how
professional, secular perspectives and faith-based understandings
can enter into constructive dialogue. The Government is funding
projects and programmes designed and run by Christians because
it is aware that without addressing the spirituality of children
they are sold desperately short.
The
campaign for a national commission is launched out of a conviction
that we now have the theological potential to contribute to a
fundamental and radical review of the society we are creating
for children that is fully alert to the substantive issues of
the day, professional insights, economic and political realities,
and yet connecting these with the faith base on which we have
built our lives and organisations.
At
last it is conceivable that something like Faith in the City
can be produced, a call of both church and nation to action on
behalf of the present and yet to be born children of our nation.
It will be a review of substance and excellence drawing together
the many different strands that go to make a child-friendly or
unfriendly social and physical environment.
A
few years ago this would not have been possible. We did not have
the theological muscle to engage in the task. Now the time is
ripe. Those of us who have read Chapter Two of Lost Ikons,
by Rowan Williams, Archbishop of Canterbury, know that he has
seen deeply into the current dilemmas we are encountering as we
try to understand childhood in a changing world.

I
have tried, with I fear, much untidiness and many loose ends,
and non-sequiturs, to sketch just some of the potential treasure
that we as Christians, are heirs to. The simple division of the
paper into three parts: the biblical heritage; our current practical
resources; and the growing reality and potential of Child Theology
as it works at the interfaces of several child-related discourses
and debates, may provide a practical resource for further reflection
and work.
As
I have pondered all this I have glimpsed again the glories of
inheritance in Christ, and just how earthen we have been as individuals,
parents, churches and organisations, what poor containers of His
grace and glory. But I like you am immeasurably heartened when
I am reminded that God has chosen the weak and lowly things of
this world to be part of His redeeming mission. And I am beginning
to have a dream that is not a million miles away from that of
Martin Luther King’s. A dream of little black and white
children walking hand in hand, boys and girls, parents and friends,
old and young, taking pleasure from each other’s company,
laughing and playing together, at peace with the natural world,
caring for and enjoying God’s world. When children are judged
by the content of their character not the designer label on their
clothes. When they will grasp real rock as they clamber and climb,
swim in fresh water rivers and streams, sail with the wind in
their faces, no longer lured into believing that computer simulated
copies will even begin to be substitutes.
It
is a pale shadow of the biblical visions, but it is a start. And
today we have taken the first faltering step towards making such
dreams come true, and refusing to let the more soulless forces
of our contemporary world squeeze children into their deforming
moulds, and the more sinister forces continue to sacrifice them
on the altars of their gods.