By Andrew Kensley






Sunday, July 31, 2011

Travel and Kids: A Necessary Pairing

When my kids and I play, we often pretend we're from different countries. Last week, Sophia said, "Let's pretend we're from England and we talk weird."
I explained to my 5-year-old that an English accent is not weird, just different from our own. But her myopic view on cultural distinctions got me thinking: How important is travel in the grand scheme of a child's education?
We live in a country that is the envy of many other nations. We have resources, cultural diversity and natural beauty that are enough to occupy our interests indefinitely. Yet there is so much the rest of our planet has to offer. One could spend a lifetime exploring and still not learn all there is to know; a desirable dilemma, for sure.
From foreign languages to curious taste buds, tolerance to budgeting and problem-solving to appreciation of being alone, I attribute many of my current life skills to my travels. Classrooms, despite their obvious value, simply can't provide the same practical experience.
When we witness the existence of other like-appearing humans living distinct lives, eating strange food and partaking in unique activities, we give ourselves a gift. That's because exploring the lives of others provides perspective on ourselves. We see our own genius and recognize our own fallibility, our universality and our uniqueness.
Watching another navigate the same pratfalls, albeit in an unfamiliar environment, makes us aware that the difference between races, nationalities and religions are ridiculously trivial. In a world with hundreds of unique cultures hours away (at most) from just about anywhere, personal encounters with those with differing beliefs should be as mandatory as American history class.
Don't get me wrong: I feel that the standard American school curriculum is vital in preparing young minds for college and good careers. Math, language, science, art, etc. shouldn't be ignored. I'm also not necessarily in favor of pulling children out of school for extended periods of time just for the opportunity to taste a Big Mac made in Tokyo.
There is, however, an intrinsic, unmatched joy that comes from immersing oneself in the true idiosyncrasies of an unfamiliar place. Add in money management, social skills and real-time lessons in history, geography and political science and suddenly the classroom of life makes the blackboard look like nothing more than a black board.
Do Brazilians party as much as we think they do? Does Greek food taste better when eaten overlooking a sunset on the Aegean Sea? Are Parisian churches as grand as they look in books? The only way to know for sure is to see for ourselves.
Children are naturally curious and their thirst for knowledge can yield mind-boggling results. I know from my own experiences and those of many friends and family that travel is an ideal way to expand our own personal horizons while learning things that will never appear in books. I want the same for my children.

Saturday, July 16, 2011

Grown-Ups Are Human, Right?

On a bike ride with my kids last week, Sophia stopped suddenly in front of me. To avoid injuring her, I braked and fell to the side. I wasn't hurt but my sensitive 5-year-old started crying. "You fell off your bike and hurt yourself and now you're mad!" she yelled.
"I didn't get hurt and I'm not mad," I replied. "You just took me by surprise. I didn't want to knock you down."
She continued crying. "Grown-ups are NOT supposed to fall off their bikes!"
I explained to her that grown-ups, even daddies, fall all the time. I couldn't help feeling sad at Sophia's perception of my role. Do we need to make our children aware that adults make mistakes too, or should we trust that they'll figure it out?
Fallibility is part of being human. From walking to adolescence to marriage, life contains innumerable trials. Not doing things right the first time is a necessary condition for learning and hopefully, a pathway to an enriched life from that point forward. Children are by necessity the most frequent and malleable learners. And every student needs a teacher.
In a child's eyes, parents are the blueprint for survival. Behaviors are imitated without question because our little animals crave someone to show them how to function in a complex world. This scenario isn't always positive, like with harmful cycles of abuse across generations, but it is nonetheless a fact.
Most adolescents understand that mom and dad aren't perfect. But for a grade-school child, imagine the trauma of seeing mom screaming in a public place or dad spilling a drink, when they're constantly stressing good behavior and being careful. Such disappointment can either fracture a person's reality or help shape it.
Sophia's reaction to my fall taught me that she depends on my living up to an unrealistic standard. I don't want her to be shocked when she realizes I'm not perfect, but I'm not sure I need to explicitly point it out. I guess she could go 1 of 2 ways.
Pressure: If my role model messes up, how will I ever be good enough?
Relief: If I make mistakes I must be normal, like everyone else.
My wife and I point out the regularity of our mishaps, like forgetting things and breaking dishes and allowing bad words to escape every now and then, in hopes that our kids will develop a realistic sense of expectations. The more I think about it, though, the less all that stuff really matters. We'll be their role models because we love and nurture them. But also because, honestly, they have no choice.
After our bike incident, Sophia's and my relationship dynamic will probably stay on course. She'll look up to me, then she won't for a while, then hopefully she'll think I'm great again. I know one thing: the next time I fall I will most certainly get back up again. I hope Sophia sees it.