Wee Wisdom: Parent vs Teacher

I informed Ella and Sophia that I signed them up for summer swimming lessons.

Ella said, “You’re a good swimmer, Dad. Why don’t you teach us?”

“Because knowing how to swim and teaching swimming are different,” I said. “And you only listen to real teachers.”

My 10-year-old thought about it for a moment. “Yeah, that’s true. I don’t listen to you very much.”

I deserved that.

Kids clamor for us to share our infinite wisdom. But adults understand that this is far from a simple proposition. It’s one thing for me to be mindful of our strengths and shortcomings, and quite another to convince our kids of the same. Ella’s suggestion that I do double duty made me wonder: Is it possible for parents to also “teach” their own children?

Tanya and I, like most parents, spend most of our time providing some kind of education our little animals, either consciously or subconsciously. But I have no illusions: I am by no means a teacher.

I volunteered in Sophia’s first-grade class this year, helping to instruct 20 adorable but attention-deprived 6- and 7-year-olds in basic arithmetic and geometry. My first-grade math skills are top notch, so it should have been a piece of cake, right?

Wrong. I gave it my all every week, but my experience taught me two valuable lessons. First, elementary school teachers are saints. Second, it’s important to know one’s limitations.

Ella and Sophia respect my authority as a parent, which is in a constant state of development as the years go by. Yet any time I’ve tried to teach them some kind of specialized skill, they only listen about half the time, and we all end up frustrated. I’ve tried being hands-on, backing off and everything in between, but the lesson invariably loses traction within a few minutes.

Maybe it’s because they see me as Dad, not Coach Kensley or Mr. Kensley. Or perhaps Ella and Sophia sense my tension when I step outside of my usual job description. It might just be that I’m good at bossing them around in parent-type situations, not in the context of instructing specifics.

Whatever the reason, when it comes to learning how to swing a golf club or conjugate a French verb, my kids are savvy enough to only listen to people who know what they’re talking about.

There is a fine art to quality instruction, especially when dealing with young minds that come from a wide range of social and cultural situations. Teaching well requires a combination of knowledge, patience, personality and an understanding of behavioral psychology. I now know that trying to maintain six hours worth of engagement from a group that is, by its very nature, not inclined to sit still is nearly impossible for most of us. There’s a reason it takes a college education to be a teacher.

That’s fine with me. Even when I don’t feel comfortable being the teacher, I can trust that my daughters are willing and capable of listening to the experts.