I don’t know if you can be good without the chance to be bad.
Since we were about as diverse as comb teeth, I think I can speak for the entire neighborhood of under-10s during the 1950s in Elmhurst when I state:
We were good due to the simple fact that there was little bad to do.
Fiery emotions that spur irrational acts must have been inside us somewhere. It’s just that they were not called forth by circumstance. No flagrant injustices were visited upon us children of parents who knew World War II, which was enough drama for one lifetime, thank you very much.
We suffered no deprivation of human rights, unless you count wearing school uniforms. No parent beat us during a drunken rage, at least not with regularity. No hunger gnawed. No passion to rise above our station pestered. No desperation to be recognized as a unique individual threatened to drive us cuckoo amidst stifling conformity.
Such bedevilments waited until we arrived at college to rear their tempting little heads.