Why are today’s parents so scared of the sun?

The days of the neighborhood children running with reckless abandon in the sprinkler out back appear to be long gone. Today we are a worried world, and we no longer rejoice when that golden celestial orb makes her appearance once again in the summer sky after being hidden away for far too long.
Today we fear the sun more than nuclear war, famine, or economic collapse combined. Yes, it’s that bad! The sun keeps us up at night fraught with concern about UV exposure, skin cancer, aging, and anything else that might remind us that we were indeed meant to live in the light and not cower in the dark.
There’s a theory that our ancestors never really got sunburned, unless they were stranded in the desert.
Of course I'm being dramatic for the sake of proving a point and because, well, it’s more fun to add a little poetry to our world and the way we see it. It’s also more fun to read, I hope.
But the truth is we are afraid of the sun. Not me, and hopefully not you, but someone is, and there are far too many someones out there.
Shirts and skins
I never realized how afraid people are of the sun until I had kids. Then, whenever we went to the playground, the park, the beach, or anywhere outside, I noticed that all the kids were hidden, covered, and protected from any and all rays that might emanate from the blue yonder above.
There were no UV protective "swim shirts" when I was a kid. Did not exist. At the risk of sounding like another complaining "back in my day" old person, I think it's worth wondering why they appeared all of a sudden.
We go to the beach almost every day if it’s nice, and as I walk with my kids down the shore, we make note of what we see. We see a lot of kids in swim shirts. It will be 84 degrees and sunny, and they are wearing long-sleeve shirts in neon green, navy, and red.
My kids and their golden tans must appear like strange visitors from strange land, and I must seem like a reckless parent to the moms and dads who fastidiously apply SPF 7500 over an impenetrable swim shirt.
Mad hatters
You know those safari hats with the huge brims and the long tails that sit on the neck to protect the wearer from the hot African sun? You’ve probably seen them in old films depicting some adventure in the Sahara.
Well, I’ve seen them on the playground. Moms carefully placing the hat, tying it around the neck, and calling after their children not to take it off. I can confidently say that my children have never, and will never, be found wearing the safari hat on the swings or the slides.
I understand skin cancer is real. I know that getting burned to a crisp and having to apply that sweet green aloe vera lotion before bed isn’t exactly anyone’s idea of a good time. Although I must say I do love the smell of that aloe and appreciate the soothing relief it bestows upon the body.
But these scenes I describe are not scenes witnessed in the Mojave desert after 14 hours in the blistering sun or the Arabian peninsula on 117-degree day. I’ve seen all this in Northern Michigan, where the the temperatures aren’t even that hot and the sun isn’t even that strong.
I know that different people have different genetics. I saw a kid with fire-red hair and skin the color of Greek yogurt at the beach the other day. My kids with their brown hair and golden skin are probably a little more suited to the sun. I am aware of that. But still, my kids are European and relatively fair, all things considered, and there were red-haired Irish kids when I was in second grade and none of them wore swim shirts. Sunscreen, yes; swim shirts, no.
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Jason Connolly/Raymond Boyd/Getty Images
Indoor generation
I’ve thought about this a lot, and while I do think there is an element of safety-ism involved with this new trend to treat the sun as if it’s a wicked villain whose main aim is to scorch our kith and kin, I think the real reason why there are more swim shirts and sun-fearing families than ever before comes down to the television and the iPad.
Simply put, more people and more kids are spending more time inside than any of us ever did before. And because they are spending so much time on the iPad and in front of the television rather than outside in the great outdoors, they are lily white in the middle of summer. And so when they decide to venture out into that blazing day, they burn like a crisp. It’s too much all at once. Of course you are going to burn bad if you never see the sun.
There’s a theory that our ancestors never really got sunburned unless they were stranded in the desert. Basically the idea is that in our agrarian past, we spent more time outdoors, and if you spend more time outdoors all year round, you will get used to the sun gradually as it gets stronger over the course of the spring. You develop a natural tan slowly, and once July arrives, your skin will be ready.
Sunshine superman
Our ancestors were like a potato slowly warming in a pre-heating oven. The pale indoor-dwellers of today are like pieces of raw dough tossed into a deep fryer. No wonder they burn, and no wonder they fear their day in the sun.
I never put sunscreen on my kids, and they never burn. I believe it’s because they spend so much time outside. They are similar to our agrarian ancestors (and every single kid in America before the year 2000) in that way. They get used to the yellow rays gradually as spring blooms, and so by the time July comes, they can enjoy the beach like normal human beings, without a swim shirt or a safari hat.
I do hope I am not being too cruel to the parents who cover their children head to toe in July. I know they are just doing their best like I’m doing my best; their best is just different from mine. But perhaps all the sun protection, sunscreen, and fear might be avoided if the kids just got outside a little more.

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The days of the neighborhood children running with reckless abandon in the sprinkler out back appear to be long gone. Today we are a worried world, and we no longer rejoice when that golden celestial orb makes her appearance once again in the summer sky after being hidden away for far too long.
Today we fear the sun more than nuclear war, famine, or economic collapse combined. Yes, it’s that bad! The sun keeps us up at night fraught with concern about UV exposure, skin cancer, aging, and anything else that might remind us that we were indeed meant to live in the light and not cower in the dark.
There’s a theory that our ancestors never really got sunburned, unless they were stranded in the desert.
Of course I'm being dramatic for the sake of proving a point and because, well, it’s more fun to add a little poetry to our world and the way we see it. It’s also more fun to read, I hope.
But the truth is we are afraid of the sun. Not me, and hopefully not you, but someone is, and there are far too many someones out there.
Shirts and skins
I never realized how afraid people are of the sun until I had kids. Then, whenever we went to the playground, the park, the beach, or anywhere outside, I noticed that all the kids were hidden, covered, and protected from any and all rays that might emanate from the blue yonder above.
There were no UV protective "swim shirts" when I was a kid. Did not exist. At the risk of sounding like another complaining "back in my day" old person, I think it's worth wondering why they appeared all of a sudden.
We go to the beach almost every day if it’s nice, and as I walk with my kids down the shore, we make note of what we see. We see a lot of kids in swim shirts. It will be 84 degrees and sunny, and they are wearing long-sleeve shirts in neon green, navy, and red.
My kids and their golden tans must appear like strange visitors from strange land, and I must seem like a reckless parent to the moms and dads who fastidiously apply SPF 7500 over an impenetrable swim shirt.
Mad hatters
You know those safari hats with the huge brims and the long tails that sit on the neck to protect the wearer from the hot African sun? You’ve probably seen them in old films depicting some adventure in the Sahara.
Well, I’ve seen them on the playground. Moms carefully placing the hat, tying it around the neck, and calling after their children not to take it off. I can confidently say that my children have never, and will never, be found wearing the safari hat on the swings or the slides.
I understand skin cancer is real. I know that getting burned to a crisp and having to apply that sweet green aloe vera lotion before bed isn’t exactly anyone’s idea of a good time. Although I must say I do love the smell of that aloe and appreciate the soothing relief it bestows upon the body.
But these scenes I describe are not scenes witnessed in the Mojave desert after 14 hours in the blistering sun or the Arabian peninsula on 117-degree day. I’ve seen all this in Northern Michigan, where the the temperatures aren’t even that hot and the sun isn’t even that strong.
I know that different people have different genetics. I saw a kid with fire-red hair and skin the color of Greek yogurt at the beach the other day. My kids with their brown hair and golden skin are probably a little more suited to the sun. I am aware of that. But still, my kids are European and relativel