How to keep a child safe

unfinished letter #2

This is unfinished letter #2, where I delve deeper into the stuff that scares me. A gentle note that there is a paywall below. To read the whole essay, become a paid subscriber.

When I was 7, about a week after my training wheels had been taken off my bike, I rode it down the steepest hill in our neighbourhood. “Rode” is a misnomer though. I made it halfway down before I lost control, the bike and I hitting a rut at high speed, twisting towards the pavement, a tangled mess of skin and blood and metal.