THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1997, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, January 17, 1997 TAG: 9701160109
SECTION: VIRGINIA BEACH BEACON PAGE: 08 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: Over Easy
SOURCE: Jo-Ann Clegg
LENGTH: 63 lines
JonBenet Ramsey. I can't get the name or the vision of the beautiful little Colorado girl out of my mind. Nor can I forget the conflicting thoughts that the name and vision evoke. Neither, for that matter, can I shake the feeling that the whole sad case has brought to light much of what is wrong with our country and its culture
In the days since her body was found, my emotions have run the gamut from sympathy for the family of the lost child to something akin to disgust when the parents hired media consultants and attorneys to direct their interactions with both the police and the press.
But those feelings were mild compared to what I felt when a tabloid newspaper chose to publish photos from JonBenet's autopsy report. The total disgust I felt then was only enhanced by the editor's defense of his actions in making the pictures public.
While I'm pretty clear about my feelings concerning the tabloid press's handling of this case, I am far less clear how I feel about the kind of life JonBenet led in the world of tiny tot beauty contests.
Part of me says that JonBenet probably did enjoy what she was doing. After all, what little girl hasn't wanted to dress up in her mother's discarded evening clothes, smear some contraband lipstick on her face and dance around the room while singing into a make-believe microphone? Many little girls (although far from all) even enjoy performing in front of crowds.
JonBenet was obviously one who did. And for such a child, an occasional appearance in a local contest probably isn't harmful. But in her case, the dressing up and performing were carried to unbelievable extremes. I found myself stunned by the elaborate costumes, the heavy makeup, the come-hither looks and the far-too-adult poses that were part of JonBenet's stage persona.
This was not a child competing with other children. This was a miniature adult in every sense of the word, one whose parents could afford the fanciest outfits, the most talented makeup artists, hair stylists and photographers. This was a child whose mother - herself a former beauty queen - could devote herself entirely to her child's career, that of being a beauty queen. It was a career in an essentially shallow and meaningless pursuit, one in which she was well immersed by the age of 6.
When did JonBenet ever have a chance to be a child? When did she ride her bike, play with building blocks or organize tea parties for her teddy bears? When did she make mud pies, sing silly songs, read ``The Cat in the Hat'' or go to story hour at the neighborhood library?
When one is being trained to sing voice-stretching patriotic medleys, do an intricate tap routine and give the right answers to judge's questions, there is no time left for little girl things or age-appropriate intellectual pursuits.
When one must always be physically perfect, there is no place for the kind of play that might result in torn fingernails, skinned knees or an uneven tan.
And what does devoting so much of the family's attention to one child do to the rest of the family? How did her 9-year-old brother feel about her career? How has he handled her death?
Finally, what - if anything - did JonBenet's shortened, high-pressure childhood have to do with the manner in which she died? I'd like to think that there was no connection, just as I'd like to think that her life was a happy, carefree one.
But I can't. And therein lie my confused feelings about JonBenet and all too many other youngsters who are pushed into a world they are not yet ready to deal.