INTERVIEW WITH YOUTH.

Auckland Star, Volume LXVIII, Issue 108, 8 May 1937, Page 3 (Supplement)

INTERVIEW WITH YOUTH.

(By M. J. SPARROW.)

THE amazing ideas of the youth of to-day have staggered me. The

clarity of thought with which they attempt to plan their lives before they reach their teens must leave anyone around the age of forty gasping. Maybe i "a,- a very dull child compared with to-day's standards, but I am positively icrtain that at the age of, say, eleven 1 had no idea of a career or a plan for my life. The other youngsters who phiyed with me seemed quite content to endlessly dress dolls and play "ladies" and "house." Games as an organised occupation were unknown. We played "hide and seek" and "chasing" and some scrambling, happy-go-lucky, undisciplined games; and that was our childhood, more or less, for years.

But these children around us have shortcircuited those day-dreaming years and at an astonishingly early age with, to us, incredible courage, form some plan for their future. They may change this as time goes on and new interests open up, but in the meantime they make logical plans for their schemes whatever they may be.

I had the opportunity only this morning to talk with (I say "with" and not "to'' advisedly) a charming child of 11 years, Suzanne. Being very tired of

Those Big, Big Thoughts.

interviewng men with their interminable views on everything under the sun, the idea of interviewing this child suddenly occurred to me, and this is what I found. Sincere and Shy. There was nothing unnaturally precocious about the child in anything she said, but rather a delightful quality of sincerity with a touch of shyness at times. Children usually guard the citadel of their thought very carefully. Fishing round for an opening I asked her what she had done with herself over the wet holidays. Wasn't it rather dull? "Oh, no. Betty (my girl friend) and I worked on our fashion books." "That sounds interesting. What is it all about? Is it a secret?" "No. You see, Betty and I are very interested in fashions. She is going to be a dress designer, and I am going to be a mannequin. We cut all the pictures of beautiful clothes and things out of magazines, hats and shoes and jewellery as well, and paste them in our scrap book and then plan trousseaus and travelling wardrobes. We have lots of fun, and if the pictures aren't coloured we colour them ourselves. I get some of my ideas of colours from the big bed of zinnias outside my playroom window." "What made you so interested in clothes, Suzanne?"

"Well,'l don't know just exactly, but I like to be with beautiful things, and I think more beautiful things are made to go with clothes than anything slse. I like the shapes of things too, like buttons and buckles and jewellery and the lovely colours of some materials. I would love to try mixing some colours myself, some day. Some of the bright ones I can see when I rub my eyes hard." "What colours do you like best, dear?" I almost blushed at this. It was interviewing with a vengeance. "I like green best of all, the different shades; it seems the most real; and then blue next best. Daddy calls green and blue together fishmonger's colours. That is a bit funny don't you think. The world must have been made by a , fishmonger because it is mostly coloured blue and green." Opinion on Radio. "What about music? How do the children at school like the singing lessons on the radio?" "That is good fun, only sometimes he goes too fast and we all get left miles behind and we are not allowed to laugh. But some of the songs are awfully childish. I like a song like 'Trees.' Do you know it?" I nodded. "I think it is marvellous," she went on. "I sing it aloud to myself sometimes, but I have to be careful lan isn't about (tan is my brother) 'cos I get a bit excited and sing loudly when the song goes Toen» are made by fools like me,' and then if he hears me he always yells out, "You've said it, sister,' and that spoils the whole thing. I can't go on then because the next line is 'But only God can make a tree,' and I have to be calm when I 6ing that line. The radio songs are all right, you know, but most of them don't make me have a funny feeling inside me like I get for 'Mandalay' and 'De Glory Road.' Do you know those ones?" I nodded again. "Lan laughs at me over T>e Glory Road' because the way Lawrence Tibbett sings it sometimes makes me get gooseflesh on my arms and legs.

Did you ever feel that way?" (Child, child, did I ever feel like that!) "Tell me now, Suzanne. What about the children's hour. Do you listen in?" "Yes, I do. I like the stories best. I never seem to be the right age for the rest of it." "What about the movies. How about dear little Mickey Mouse?"

"Oh, Mickey is a darling and I like the story part, too. I used to like fairy

stories a long time ago, but I don't now. Mickey is like a fairy story, but I never seem to get too old to still like him." "Do you ever do any acting, Suzanne?" The Budding Actress. "Yes, rather. Betty and I act plays we make up. I really want to be an actress afterwards, but I thought I would be a mannequin first because you often get noticed in those sort of jobs and it would be such good training for the stage. There is such a lot to learn in just walking and moving your hands and not being nervpus when people stare. Betty and I have got scrap books, too, on makeup and beauty hints and exercises. We make the books out of brown paper, you know. Betty and I think that the clothes you wear make a lot of difference to how you act. When we play at home I can always do tragic parts better with a sheet wound round me and trailing on the floor. Betty is going to design clothes specially for my moods when I am a great actress."

"What about —" but at this juncture Suzanne's father called for her and the "interview" ceased abruptly. These are a child's opinions for what they are worth on a variety of subjects, and I think they are worth a great deal. When we are besieged by opinions, very often bigoted, from everyone from dictators to crooners, why can't we listen to opinions from a relatively unbiased source such as a child? Children of all ages are talked about, thought of and planned for in a thousand different ways and experimented upon with educational systems, but we never hear their opinion about anything. They are dumb, muted strings in the mass orchestra.

Not until a boy has lived his first 21 magical years will we listen to what he has to say with any attention or realise that he has opinions and is then in a position to put his ideals and purposes into operation. Could we not get a new viewpoint from hearing a little of this fresh young wisdom?