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Too Young (A Late Entry To The Pay For Under-18 Write-Off)Feb 17 '01 Write an essay on this topic.
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The Bottom Line Epinions has the power to help to encourage and shape young minds and souls. Is it up to the challenge?
Note: The following Epinion deals with the issue of pay for Epinionators who are under the age of 18, even though it might not look that way at first and might be in danger of somebody making a snap-judgment that it's off-topic. Please bear with me and be patient, because I will eventually get to that point. However, some important groundwork has to be laid first in relation to getting to said point. Back in May of 1997, I wrote a poem called Too Young. It goes like this: TOO YOUNG He's too young for his voice to be changing. She's too young to need more than a training bra. He's too young to shave. She's too young to experience PMS. They're too young to drive; to conceive a child; to have all their adult teeth; to have acne; to have reached their adult heights. They're too young to be gangsters-- NOT!!! Copyright 1997 by Ainsley Jo Phillips I wrote this poem after watching a disturbing news program on TV that told about how children who haven't even reached puberty yet were already deep into gang life. Let me tell you what it was like for me being eleven years old back in 1964. Warning: Some of this might contain more information than you want to hear, but I'll try to handle it tastefully. This was the year of The British Invasion, which was begun by The Beatles, who were followed by a lot of other talent from the United Kingdom (and, eventually, other places as well). I thought The Beatles were IT!!! We lived across the road and slightly south of a small airport. In fact, part of our farmland was right across from the airport (which was called Ace Airport). At different times, they would also have skydiving shows there. Frequently, the skydivers would miss their intended target slightly and would end up landing in our north field. There were even a few times when they landed in our yard. There had been a couple of times in later years when their parachutes would get caught in one of our trees, and they'd dangle there like puppets until the local volunteer fire dept. came onto the scene to cut them free. Around that same time, I'd read this story about a pilot running out of fuel and having to make an emergency landing in somebody's yard. Anyway, those thoughts came together into a wonderful daydream. The pilot of a plane that The Beatles were on would have found himself running out of gas and would have to land at Ace Airport to refuel. However, like the skydivers, he would miss his mark somewhat and would end up landing in our field. Then, while the plane was fueling up and getting checked over, The Beatles would end up visiting my my family and me, They would play on the swing-set with my cousins and me and eat pizza from Art's with all of us while relaxing on our big porch. That never happened. The closest I've come to meeting The Beatles to this day was going to high school with a shirttail cousin of Paul's and talking to a few people who'd actually had the pleasure of meeting them. Along with 1964 being the year of The British Invasion, it was also the year that I reached puberty. One day, I was relaxing in the bathtub when I noticed something I found really exciting: I'd sprouted a single pubic-hair!! I couldn't believe my eyes! I hollered for my folks to come look. It was a time to celebrate! About a week later, I sprouted a second hair! Shortly after that, the first one fell out, and I put it into a box like earrings might come in to keep with the rest of my momentos (I have no idea where it is now). The last part of July, I began noticing what looked like skid-marks in my panties, and I made a mental note to use a little more toilet-paper in the future. On July 25, the so-called skid-marks were more pronounced, and I wondered if it could possibly be true what I thought was true! I showed my underwear to my folks, and they told me that it was time to get out the Miss Deb kit that I'd been saving for this very special day! I'd been blessed with folks who had always been open about answering my questions, so this wasn't a day to be frightened. It was a day to be elated! I remember being so thrilled that, as soon as I was fixed up, I could hardly wait to let my grandma and older female cousins know. At that time, they lived where I do now (the converted barn on our property), so I got on my bike and peddled down the driveway to see them. While there, I coasted down the hill and into the cornfield on my bike just because I was too excited not to! There were other wonderful things that happened to me the year when I was eleven (later to turn 12 that December). My folks and I went out East to go to The World's Fair (this took place in June, about 1 1/2 months before that day of celebration) where I must have ridden the It's A Small World ride about a million times. Later, we went on to Washington, D.C., and I got to meet Senator Birch Bayh, after which we became longtime pen-pals. In August my dad took several of my cousins and me to the drive-in to watch A Hard Day's Night, and one of my cousins and me to see The Beatles perform at the Indiana State Fairgrounds on September 5 of that year. In October, I had a slumber party and invited every girl in my sixth grade class to it, plus my two older cousins. Only two girls in the class couldn't make it, meaning that there was about a dozen of us, counting my cousins and me. It was a blast! In November, my mom and I went to a Dave Clark Five concert in the Fairgrounds Coliseum. In December, I was thrilled about the idea of turning 12 on the 12th! When I contrast what it was like for my peers and me when I was eleven with a time that kids even younger than that have gotten involved with gangs and other activities that steal away their childhoods, it breaks my heart! I've heard of more than one case where eleven-year-olds have committed such serious crimes (even murder) that, in several states, their cases are waived to adult courts. These isn't--not yet, anyway, though there have actually been people in government who have proposed lowering the age of eligibility for the death penalty to 10 years old!--the option of the death penalty for somebody so young, but there is the good possibility of life in prison without parole. At eleven! How many pubic hairs do these young lifers have? One? Two? Possibly, they haven't even grown their first ones yet! If I sound like a bleeding-heart to you, TOUGH! I'm in no way minimizing the crimes these kids have committed. I'm just wondering why it had to come to this? Maybe, there were signs that were overlooked. These kids didn't become that way overnight. Why do we wait until after the crimes happen and then have the $64,000 question be whether or not to try these children as adults? Here at Epinions.com, there has been a rule that Epinionators under the age of 18 can't receive pay directly from the company. Instead, the money goes to their parents or guardians who hold it for them until they turn 18. Some of these minors are coming to the conclusion--and reasonably so--that they should be paid directly for their writing--writing that is, many times, so good that it runs circles around us adults. There's another group I'm concerned about, too. These are the kids who are under 13 who have written for Epinions.com. Now I'll have to agree that, as wise and amusing as these kids seem to be for their ages, they, for the most part, don't have the professional polish that it would take to be a paid-in-cash Epinionator. Therefore, I can understand not paying people 13 and under in cash--to make writing for the site, instead, just a sort of learning experience for them. What I don't understand is a rule--supposedly, passed by Congress--that would make the people at Epinions headquarters recently err on the side of caution (rather than get in trouble with the law) and decide that nobody should write Epinions unless he/she was at least 13. I'm not talking money here, because these bright, young kids had never been paid at anytime. But I'm talking about the chance to express themselves in a positive manner. In some states, you can be eligible to receive the death penalty if you committed a murder on or after your sixteenth birthday--yet that same sixteen year old wouldn't be eligible to receive checks from Epinions.com for two more years. Eleven year old kids are now serving time with no possibility of parole--yet those same kids wouldn't be old enough to even write for free at Epinions.com. There's something wrong with this picture, I think, and it makes me wonder if our society has gotten so doped up on the likes of Jerry Springer and the knee-jerk, vote-getting drivel of politicians who make "us" feel smug and comfortable by promising to use our tax-dollars to build more prisons to warehouse "them" in. One young man I talked to told me how writing for Epinions.com gave him so much confidence in his abilities that his grades have gone up considerably since he began writing here! For those of you familiar with New Orleans, it has a famous section called The French Quarter. The whole area has been proclaimed an historic area. That means that the simple solution of tearing down a building and replacing it with something else doesn't exist. Instead--if you don't want The French Quarter to turn into one major eyesore--you have to use your monies, energy, etc. to rehabilitate what's there. Although there's a need in our society for the use of prisons and punishment (though I'm personally against the death penalty, period!), we need to be concentrating more on prevention. On making repairs on humanity before it becomes more blighted than ever. One way to do this is to give people something to feel positive about--such as something they can do that will employ their talents, whatever those talents might be. Epinions.com can become part of the solution by encouraging young people to use their talents at this site!  |
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