Child-like Innocence

Growing up I had always believed that the naïvety possessed by children was a flaw; that it held them back. I looked at grown people whose lack of understanding of society's functions held them back and concluded that my hypothesis must be true. Throughout my schooling in North America, I had seen tonnes of examples of kids whose minds have been poisoned by the media, older siblings and their schooling. Sadly, because of this, I thought that that was the right way to be, and in order to fit in, polluted my own mind with a flurry of things no child should know, but most children do. 

For as long as I can remember going to school, I had had one goal - to be popular, or at least, to fit in. I changed my personality the way a chameleon changes its colour, blending in to whatever scum I became associated with. I never really found a true friend; someone I could share my true colours with until grade eight. 

In a school filled with failures and rubbish, drug-dealers and users, teen pregnancies and sex - I found light. I found a true friend. Someone who I could be how I truly was around without fear of rejection and judgement. It was wonderful and very relaxing. In fact, all my cares about portraying a certain image flew out the window. My friend however, was not completely sane (I mean that in the best way possible). She was bubbly and bold and bright and all that stuff that makes one seem a little off. There was one thing that my friend lacked, and that was a sort of child-like innocence; a naïvety, if you will. Of course, I didn't mind that, because by the time that I had met my friend I had forgotten that I had ever had a grain of innocence in me. That is until my second friend came along.

I moved schools after spending one year in that "ghetto" school. I went to one of the most tame schools in Vancouver. I expected that it would be tough to make friends, but I was wrong. Everyone was very social and welcoming, so I made friends and all was good. I felt accepted. After my best friends from that school had to move to different cities at the end of the year, I was sad. I knew that I'd have to make new close friends, but I wasn't sure who.
Miraculously, I was introduced to a girl who would go on to become a very good friend of mine. I have spoken a lot about said friend in past posts, so I won't reiterate. She is the polite and proper one. And she, well she is really different from my first friend.
She is the type of girl who would never utter an ugly word, but not because she refuses to let it slip out of her mouth, rather because she simply does not know such a piercing word. When I first met her, she was quiet and attentive and very prim. At first, I thought that the her way of being which prevented her from using swear words, or engaging in the sexually themed conversations of her peers; I later found out that it wasn't so much that as it was her  inexperience with such subject matter.
I was honestly appalled at her lack of knowledge of certain mind pollutants. Her mind was so pure and innocent, and I had grown to be so infected with society's wretchedness, that I was shocked. Due in part to her poshness, you would never be quite sure of whether or not she knew what you were talking about, as she would never ask. No matter what was being said, she managed to conceal the fact that she didn't have a clue quite well.
It took me a while of being friends with her to finally begin to distinguish her behaviours from when she did and didn't know something. Since the two of us rarely allowed ourselves to be thrust into regular teenage conversation about "hot guys" etc., I first noticed her lack of knowledge while reciting one of my posts to her. Since she is my biggest supporter in blogging, I subject her to the joy -or horror- of listening to everything I have to say. In her typical fashion, she always nods and smiles along, occasionally, she even rebuts a point I make or offers me advice for improving the quality of a post.  A few times, when I first began incorporating some "10$ words" into my posts, I would notice her pause before continuing to nod and smile - that was my key to realization. I then would proceed to ask her, "Do you know what that word means?" To which she would respond by shaking her head. "Then why don't you ask me? You can learn the word and make sense of what I am saying." She responded by telling me that she does figure out what I am saying through the context. Regardless, I encouraged her to ask.
To this day she doesn't ask me, rather I have to beat it out of her, but that's beside the point.
Because my friend is on vacationin Europe right now, we don't get to see each other in person. Luckily, we have email and Skype. After sending approximately fifty, near thousand word, essays back and forth to each other, she had gotten tired and requested that she see my face on Skype. Of course, this was fine. So, we agreed on a time, and made it happen.
We talked about regular things - how our respective breaks were going, how much we missles each other etc.. To my surprise, in the midst of my conversation, I heard my father make an inquiry to my mother. He asked her whether she and her friends spoke the way my friend and I were speaking right now when they were sixteen. I had to shelve the comment in the back of my mind, at least until the conversation was over, because I didn't want to be distracted.
At the end of our long Skype, I asked my sister what my dad had meant by the comment. She replied, telling me that dad thought that it was adorable. Apparently, our conversation seemed like that of a couple of pre-schoolers. But what was adorable? The way we were speaking to each other? At first, I brushed off the comment, but later, out of respect for my father's intellect, tried to find some merit to the comment. It was easier than I thought.
I looked back at the topics we discussed during the course of our conversation - blackberry picking in the park, future trips we were planning, future blog posts I was planning, what clothes we had newly gotten, the food we had eaten and how much we missed each other. At one point, I even put a blackberry up to the camera lens on my computer and said "here, try one!", to which she responded by putting a hand up to her camera lens, as to accept my blackberry, and mimicking the motion of eating.
Truly, the subject matter of our long conversation was so childlike that it was astounding. No gossip, no   hate, no mind-polluting topics. Our conversation was as innocent as that of a 5-year-old. Remarkably, I enjoyed it, and I realized that my friend and I always talked that way when we were together without our peers. She, being the incredibly sterile person she is, brings out a child-like innocence in me, which I thought that I had lost years ago. Moreover, I enjoy the innocence; it makes me feel like a better person.
I hope that she manages to remain the way she is in a rotten world because I want to draw some of that happiness from being around her. I am elated to have rediscovered the beauty of childlike innocence, because it is one of those small pleasures, which is truly beautiful and freeing, but sadly sparse.