"I don't lie. I don't steal. I try to be kind. I am Pamela." That's how five-year-old Pamela, with her solid little legs planted firmly on the ground, introduced herself.

     Pamela's Mom and I looked at each other, trying hard not to laugh. After we had managed to straighten our faces the mother proceeded to explain. "We've been trying to teach her responsibility; that she's in charge of her own actions. She really took to the idea. We hadn't expected that a five-year old would be so responsive to what we thought were adult notions. We just thought we'd plant ideas about the importance of being a good person, about morality, and maybe eventually they would sprout - when she was much older."

     Did Pamela really understand? Was her declaration a true indication that she knew who she wanted to be - that she already had a definite identity - and that her identity was of a "good" and honest person? At the time neither her mother nor I would have thought so. However, about two decades later we found out differently. For the adult Pamela remembered the incident and laughingly told us.

     "It must have been after one of those horrendous acts by a teenager that Mom and Dad thought it important to teach me that, 'We are all responsible for our actions. We're in charge of ourselves. There are no excuses for doing bad things.' I liked the idea of being in charge of myself. It gave me a feeling of importance. Like I wasn't just a helpless little girl. And you know what? - I still feel that way. No excuses means you're in charge of yourself. And if things go wrong, and of course sometimes they will, you've got to figure out how to navigate the wrong. And you have to figure out how to do it the right way. When I have kids I'm going to pass on to them how important it is to be in charge of yourself. What it means - that we're responsible for the kind of world we live in."

     Looking back on Pamela's recollection I realize that one of its most surprising aspects is that all three of us remembered how, decades earlier, five-year old Pamela had introduced herself. We must have realized the importance, the implications of what was presumably a childish assertion. Which is why, despite the passage of years, we continue to recall it with great affection to this day.

     At the time neither Pamela's Mom nor I had thought much about how recent the concept of individual responsibility is in human history. It wasn't far back in antiquity that people felt and thought of themselves as pawns of unseen forces; that there really wasn't such a thing as choice. Of course there were punishments for societal infractions. But these were more in the nature of revenge. The violators as well as their society believed that "The gods and/or the spirits determine what we do. We are the playthings of divine forces. We can't help ourselves." These beliefs had the clear implication of, "I am not really responsible for what I do." Such expressions of helplessness were an essential part of accepting one's fate, of accepting one's karma - for good or ill.

     At what point in human history did people begin to take responsibility for their own actions, and therefore also for their society? According to Julian Jaynes of Princeton it all began with a major cognitive shift which took place with, and in the times of the Old Testament and the codification of the Ten Commandments. These represented ideas which permeated the then known world as well as the major religions. According to Jaynes' theory, there followed a cognitive shift toward personal responsibility and with it a sense of individual identity. The theory holds that the cognitive shift was so profound as to be a brain-altering phenomenon. As more and more people ceased to believe themselves the playthings of the gods, they perceived themselves as separate individuals responsible for their own actions. They had stopped being helpless pawns in the hands of the frequently malevolent gods and spirits.

     This sense of individual identity and therefore personal responsibility demands that people look at the outcome of their choices. Evaluating outcomes cannot be achieved without an understanding, a conclusion, that some choices are constructive and others destructive. Therefore there is a fundamental linkage between being responsible for one's actions and perceiving a difference and meaning of what is good and what is evil.

That is what, on the childish level of a five-year old, Pamela had already understood. She had begun to grasp the fundamental meaning of human choice.

     What about those who say that good and evil is a matter of opinion; that there really is no such dividing line? Recently it was even fashionable to say that if it feels good, then it must be good. The adult Pamela would tell us that such notions are one way to shirk responsibility for one's behavior. Relativity, the belief that what is good or ill depends on who writes the history, reinstates a feeling of helplessness. We lose control over the hard-won knowledge of who we are.

     By being merely a reflection of our environment, of our hormones, of our genes, or of our immediate whims, we are indulging in the modern version of being the playthings of the gods. These modern gods, like the frequently malevolent ones of the past, rob us of our identity by taking away the responsibility of determining who we are.

     How then do we ascertain what is good, what is evil? That of course is what the Ten Commandments attempted to do. Five-year old Pamela had considerable understanding of this when she introduced herself with "I don't lie. I don't steal. I try to be kind. I am Pamela." She would have agreed with "evil is that which hurts others, and therefore ourselves." However, the weakness of that definition stems from the reality that we often don't know what will be hurtful, not until after the fact - sometimes years after the fact. For this reason my own personal definition takes into account intent, in other words motivation. And so evil becomes "getting pleasure out of giving pain, getting your kicks out of harming others and therefore yourself."

     Despite Professors Jaynes' interesting theory that there was a brain-altering cognitive shift several millennia ago, the belief that who we are is predetermined is still resonating in today's world. A frequent defense in our courts for criminal acts is that these were the consequence of environmental abuse, or perhaps the power of genetics. The implication is one of helplessness, a reflection of the belief that human behavior is determined by the modern gods of genetics, hormones, the environment - ergo forces beyond our volitional control. The believers in these modern gods repeat the refrain "I couldn't help myself" as an explanation for alcoholism, drug addiction and even murder. The conviction and therefore the decision that it is we who decide, that it is we who determine who we are, continues to be a fragile concept.

     The fragility of the concept is central to Joseph Conrad's THE HEART OF DARKNESS, which relates the terrifying tale of Kurtz whose travels take him to "where no warning voice(s) of a kind neighbor can be heard." Conrad warns us "When they are gone you must fall back upon your own innate strength, upon your own capacity for faithfulness." Kurtz, however, lacking a faithfulness to personal responsibility hears a whisper that "proved irresistibly fascinating. It echoed loudly within him because he was hollow to the core." The story's ending describing Kurtz' deathbed cry of "the horror, the horror" reflects the gruesome spectacle of someone who has ceased to know who they are, who has reverted to being the plaything of malevolent gods.

     THE HEART OF DARKNESS was first published in 1903 before the First and Second World Wars shattered the belief that "civilization" assured personal responsibility - even in those who are "hollow to the core." But the horrors of fascism that overran "civilized" Europe robbed us of this comforting notion. Nowadays we are faced with daily news reports reminding us of how fragile is the sense of personal responsibility, how easily we lose our identity, how readily we hear the whispers of some abomination, how willingly we become the playthings of malevolent would-be gods.

     For that very reason the teachings of Pamela's parents are of such paramount importance. Is that not why parental teachings must supercede the power of fashion, and even the power of the state? It is not just in our distant past that nations have reveled in horrendous acts. Those daily news reports of civil wars and genocide are reminders of what happens when parental teachings for good have not superceded the power of a state that wants to go evil. It is easy to lose the knowledge that each of us can determine who we are. The realization that the choice for good is ours is indeed a fragile concept.

     Since personal responsibility and therefore identity is such a fragile concept, how do you teach it? An implicit example of this appears in the 5th book of the Ball-Stick-Bird reading series. In THE VOOROO WHO DID NOT UNDERSTAND HE WAS BORN TO BE BAD the little Vooroo is so lacking in identity that he doesn't even have a name. He has no sense of responsibility for his actions because he does not understand the difference between good and evil. He believes his lack of comprehension is Vooroo destiny.

     Gradually, as the little Vooroo is in the company of the good guys he begins to understand that he can chose to be a good Vooroo, that he actually has a choice. With this growing understanding, his appearance changes. He becomes Timo who, by taking on responsibility for good, has chosen a positive identity. He has achieved the answer to the question, "Who am I?"

     Many of our favorite children's stories teach personal responsibility on the implicit level. But these need bolstering by the powerful explicit approaches that were used by Pamela's parents. However, it is important to note:

Pamela's parents didn't just tell her that she mustn't lie, steal, try to be kind, and then as she grew older gradually add the other behavioral commandments. Instead they prefaced their behavioral injunctions with "you are in charge of yourself. That means you are your own boss. You are responsible for what you do." They made it clear that she had the power to decide the kind of person she would be; that she could decide the answer to the question, "Who am I?"

     Now decades later both Pamela and her parents continue to be rewarded by what was taught and learned so many years ago. Pamela's parents gave her the gift of a positive and generous identity; perhaps the most important bequest a family can bestow on its children.