August 2, 2026
On an airplane, the flight attendant always says this thing before take-off: “Secure your own oxygen mask first, before assisting your child”- we can also see this, as well as a number of other daunting illustrations, in the safety pamphlet firmly tucked into the back of the seat that’s in front of us- which should be in the upright position, with its seatbelt securely fastened.
They make it a point to say this about the oxygen mask because a parent’s first instinct is to protect their child (thank the lord), particularly in response to imminent danger; and too many parents have passed out before they could apply the necessary safety procedures, leaving the child truly helpless in the face of a disaster. What’s further terrifying is the idea that the kid would receive oxygen first, only to witness mom or dad pass out right in front of them.
This is an extremely real example of what (and what not) to do in a disaster…as a parent- “drawn” in the simplest way possible. It’s plastered in all kinds of places and handbooks for emergency scenarios, especially ones that involve being inside of a metal tube containing 50,000 gallons of fuel and soaring through the sky at 500 mph. They’re not seen in workplaces very much, because kids aren’t supposed to be working; however, expectant mothers will certainly expect to see more warnings and protocols about theirs and their unborn child’s safety. The point is to make it as obvious as possible for us to see.
Formless
I do love the pictograms that are used to emphasize potential emergencies and what to do in case of one. The branding here is on point; where they can take an extremely limited number of figures and create wheelchairs, tents, off-balanced trucks, have a stick-man doing calisthenics or tumbling down some stairs. Or, the circular head of a stick figure can be copied and then pasted onto a lady stick figure’s midsection, showing us she’s pregnant.
One could expand upon this medium; hell, I could go on and on about ideas for an Emergency Warning! (pamphlet-style) Stick Figures graphic novel, but I fear my boys would catch wind of it and actually start crafting such a thing- and I’m not sure I’m prepared to witness that level of creative inertia unfold at such a young age. I also know it can be awfully offensive for one to see a stick figure with its head on fire, or vomiting, or falling on its ass and think it’s hilarious, so let’s shift to a heavier note.
Grave tragedies had to happen to real humans for all of these stick-figured pamphlets and signs with red triangles and giant exclamation marks to exist. It’s the same reason laws, statutes, rules, etc. are established, upheld and amended; not only is it logically and ethically sound, it seems like a beautiful way to avoid people having suffered in vain- but, in all fairness, these are based on some things that have happened to people too many times not to ignore; as opposed to the countless number of things that can happen to millions of people, in as many ways.
A physical sign tells us our simplest and safest path forward yet, these overt symbols don’t exist in the wild and untamed areas of our lives which are un-illustratable. Unlike the image of a burning plane or a cartoon stick-man being stuck by a car, they’re not technically emergencies; plus (as mentioned) there are endless versions of them, so by the sheer laws of probability and space, they don’t warrant any sort of animated notice to the public- plus, there’s only so much physical territory we can fill with alerts. Some of these situations or concepts are too broad to depict or even fully explain. Take, for instance, raising a human child.
Sure, we’ll see a couple of these types of warning signs in the building where our kid is born; but after that, we’re completely on our own. New parents may soon discover all of the books, websites, resources and advice that are out there, but sometimes we don’t want to read a thesis on “potty training” (no matter how desperate we might be) or even a blueprint on how to handle the hoarding of pebbles, pinecones, twigs, shells, and rocks (and the bugs that come inside with them). Sometimes we just need something that shows us point blank, how NOT to react; just a good old fashioned circle with a diagonal line across, placed over an image of some stupid thing that we’re not supposed to be doing.
While safety pictograms alert the public to a rare, yet dangerous circumstance that has still occurred enough times to warrant (and due to a lack of) caution, I’m still so often completely dumbfounded by some of the things I’ve experienced as a parent, that I could not fathom a stick figure likeness of the situation; nor does there seem to be anything less than an infinite number of ways in which I should not deal with it. Unlike an aircraft losing oxygen or a floor that’s slippery when wet, these massively obscure, formless experiences cannot be depicted in any way, other than living through them.
Shartwork
Simple pictures for the purposes of caution: These make sense to us because they’re designed that way. When we see it mapped out and laminated on a wall or door in literal black and white, it’s so obvious, to the point where we might even dismiss it. But it’s important to remember that nothing can be obvious until it is realized, not until it’s happened. This is a safe place to be. Repetition and familiarity may guide us or even protect us, in a sense. They provide a sort of discipline for our personal journey and allow us to proceed under a well-patched and insured sedan; yet, if we were to always know what’s coming and what to do about it, an extremely boring plane of existence would emerge.
Be well aware of the obvious, but don’t be controlled by it- nothing new or interesting happens there, just a repetitious exchange of information. When we were younger we may have laughed at these stick figures and warning signs, only to create our own signs, which expressed our feelings and our enthusiasm toward whatever we were grooving with in the moment. It didn’t need to be rational or imitative, it was actually better if it wasn’t. This was and still is, art.
The contrast between adulthood and childhood, to me, rests quaintly within the aesthetic of these basic and necessary visual images we spend our lives either glancing or gazing upon. Grownups tend to project reason and logic, whereas children project imagination and curiosity- both of them are trying to achieve something that resembles a quality existence, but a visually artistic portrayal would have the adults looking something like the stick-figures on safety posters, while the children would look like…well, whatever the kid wanted to be drawn as (a giant, a crocodile) in whatever fantasy landscape they could imagine (probably not in a safety pamphlet or in a bus station bathroom).
Secure your oxygen mask first, before assisting your child. Yes, we need to have it all together and be capable of taking care of ourselves in order to take care of our children and help them through their tough times. But life is not one big emergency. It does not flow in and out of protocols. Most of the time our self-illustrations can be whatever we want them to be, which is what makes it all so beautiful and interesting. These days, within the vast expanses of parental time when we’re not crossing the street or ascending an escalator, I’m trying to let it ride. I don’t want to be stuffy and unbending. And I want them to be able to illustrate their own lives in the aesthetic of their choosing.
Sister: “Do you like the sparkling tiara I drew on top of the princess’s head?”
Brother: “Oh, yes I do, it’s so pretty! Now let’s draw a shark about to eat her, while she’s farting!!”
Sister: “Yeahhh!”
Eh, at least they’re not drawing stick people anymore- And I suppose I can hand them the keys to my graphic novel idea.
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