As We Go Forth

There was a child went forth every day,
And the first object he looked upon, that object he became.
And that object became part of him for the day or a certain part of the day,
Or for many years or stretching cycles of years.
(Walt Whitman, "There was a Child went Forth," Leaves of Grass)

I found this quotation from Whitman's poem in an editorial about our culture's impact on children.

In my curiousity, I looked up the rest of the poem, where Whitman continues describing the environment and people that eventually become part of this child. But I think the most interesting quality of Whitman's writing is his use of contrasting pairs--of the good and the bad.

The friendly boys, and the quarrelsome ones. The tidy children, and the barefoot ones. The mother with mild words, and the father--"strong, self-sufficient, manly, mean, anger'd, unjust." Schooner and rowboat; doubt and curiosity. All of these stay with the child.

Of course, the most obvious question revolves around the child's eventual growth: what impact did all of these images have? Whitman only says that this child "will always go forth every day." Yet isn't that a little comforting? Despite the "negative" images that became part of the child--the town drunkard, the poverty, the father's abuse--there still is a tomorrow for the child. He still goes forth.

I think we are like that child, taking in everything, all of it becoming part of us. And like that child, when adversity gathers around us, we still can go forth.

[See my other blog for another interpretation of this thought.]