A Contrast and Comparison of
Child Rearing Between the Pygmies
Of Colin M. Turnbull’s The Forest People
And My Own Child Rearing
By
James N. Coppock
Ant 301
June 5th, 2006
A contrast and comparison
of child rearing and the accompanying attitude towards children between Colin M. Turnbull’s The Forest People
and my own child rearing practices reveals some similarities and differences. Additionally,
I shall endeavor, briefly, to compare the Pygmy child rearing practices with those few instances Turnbull has revealed of
the African villagers, differences that are noticeable.
To begin, in the
nkumbi circumcision festival held by the African villagers for initiating boys into manhood, the villagers utilize a variety
of strenuous activities from sleep deprivation to the memorization of “nonsensical songs.”[i] Turnbull writes how “boys are subjected to
one form of mild torture after another…sometimes mental rather than physical,” all in an effort to prepare the
soon-to-be young men for the rigors of village life.[ii] Pygmy fathers, however, have a different expectation
of the nkumbi ritual and “frequently reject its severity.”[iii] Turnbull provides us with instances where Pygmies
risk the open ridicule of the African villagers, as when Masalito, seeing his son Kaoyo being “very roughly handled…put
his arms around him, hugging him tight to give him strength.”[iv] Such gestures - not hidden behind the walls of
a hut but preformed openly and without hesitation - are indicative of a culture who values empathy for the young. And, when the young Pygmies return to their forest home, they are still children; initiation into manhood
is not through arduous, sometimes “brutal rituals,” but rather when the young man hunts his first game and participates
in the elima.[v] [vi]
In fact, Pygmy children
are allowed to be children and live a child’s harmonious life. This gentleness,
rather than the harshness of the villagers, is exhibited at all levels of Pygmy culture, even in the way in which the older
children react to the younger. “Older girls” bestow the younger kids
“with a kiss full of the warm affection of children.”[vii] Turnbull makes a very simple, yet elegant statement
that illuminates the importance Pygmies place on letting their kids be kids: “The children were running about in the
semi-darkness, laughing and playing, without a care in the world.”[viii]
Given the freedom
to interact with one another as children, young Pygmies are able to imitate older children and adults in games and play, an
education in its own right. Pygmy parents find it unnecessary to enact special
rituals that toughen-up their young, as Pygmy life itself seems to do this just fine:
“…the very nature of his own nomadic hunting and gather-
ing existence provides all the toughening up and education
that are needed. Children begin climbing trees sometimes
before they can walk. Their muscles develop, and they over-
come fear in a number of daring tree games. Adult activities
are learned from an early age by observation and imitation…”[ix]
As for the girls,
initiation in to womanhood is preceded by the girls first menstruation. It is
a time for the elima, a very lively way by which young women indicate their interest in young men and discover if those feelings
are reciprocated. Pygmies view this change of life to be “a time of gladness
and happiness” in a camp that is “blessed by the moon.”[x] In contrast, African villagers consider the onset
of menstruation an “evil” bestowed upon the whole tribe because of some “illicit intercourse” she
has engaged in. These differences in attitude could not be more marked.
Of course, when
children are disobedient or particularly annoying, adults will swear at them; discipline is given as freely as love.[xi] Yet the punishments do not appear to be too severe,
for Turnbull doesn’t make much of it and actually seems to approve: “For children, life is one long frolic interspersed
with a healthy sprinkle of spankings and slappings.”[xii] Even during the molimo ritual, which seems bound
by rules of age and gender, men can be seen bending those rules out of what appears to be nothing more than sheer love for
their young, as when Makubasi held his son on his lap and sang to him.[xiii]
As for me, my childhood
was very strict but full of love. Although most decisions were made for me and
risks were strongly discouraged, there was never a time when I didn’t know that I was loved. This differs from the Pygmies in that the latter appear to give their children great latitude in learning
about their world and exploring their environment. They do not appear overly
protective. Yet the love and the feelings of appreciation for the their children
are much the same.
I will say that
with my own son, who is now three, I give him as much latitude to make decision and explore his world as is possible. In a society that values work above all else (as evinced in a comparison of average
work weeks among industrialized nations), I try to spend as little time as possible performing “work” and instead
spend quality time with my son. Unlike the Pygmy father in the “legend
of the Bird with the Most Beautiful Song,” I encourage my child to “feed” and nurture his own “bird”
within his soul each day.
[i] Colin M. Turnbull The Forest
People (Simon & Schuster, New York, 1968) p 21
