A child’s appreciation for life
The water is such a big learning space. There’s power and a lack of mercy and so much allure at play. Children feel this, too, but rather than fear the unknown, they crave the sensation of it.
Like many children, my son is drawn to the water. He runs in for a cannonball, using all the breath within him to squeal as he leaps off the edge of the pool with delight. There is no other care in his world in that moment, other than to feel the water, again and again. Like all children, he feels everything.
This dissipates with age. Why do I not jump in for a cannonball just the same? Even if I jump in alongside him, I’m taking many thoughts and doubts and prejudices along with me — no wonder a child can reach the top of the water with such buoyancy. There is no other weight they carry.
We can learn so much from the child, but this isn’t a matter of attempting to lessen our own constitution or to worry less. It’s about helping to elongate the genuine connection a child feels with his own life and the invigorating environment around him.
When we step away from a learning opportunity and allow the child to cut his own bread in two, to tie his own shoe or to make it to the edge of the pool with his own bravery and our smile in sight, the child is awarded an appreciation that we no longer feel. And, that kind of appreciation only extends the enchantment of every encounter life brings — every splash, every shadow, every flower that’s bigger than it was the day before. The child sees things so reverently — including us — why would we ever want to disrupt that view?
The water is such a big learning space. There’s power and a lack of mercy and so much allure at play. Even as an adult, we can be drawn to the water simply for its juxtaposition of tranquility and ferocity. Children feel this, too, but rather than fear the unknown, they crave the sensation of it. When I watch my son spin his little body like a fish or watch an infant splash wildly with gladness, I don’t see any reservation or hesitation, I only see gratitude. They see any body of water as something that is indeed bigger than themselves, but if we allow them the space to do so, they arrive to the edge with a spirit that matches the power of the water, and they deserve to feel and live in that purity for as long as they can. How can we help them in that?
Before we got out of the water, my son swam toward me on his back, his chin meeting the sky with a confidence that would have kept him afloat for hours, and when he got to me, I said to him, “I didn’t know you knew how to backstroke!” He replied with sparkles in his eyes, “I learned! I learned!”
May he greet the day like this for years to come.
On false confidence in parenting
How confident are you in your parenting and your child’s level of ability? How do we trust children to thrive in their own way?
For as much resiliency as we have in raising children, parenting can sometimes feel like a defenseless place.
We subconsciously seek validation, whether from our partner, ourselves, or even the stranger in line at the grocery store. This has nothing to do with weakness, rather merely evidence of our love, commitment, and absolute devotion to the child. We want to always be getting it right – not for us, but for them. Always for them, we ask ourselves, Am I good enough?
You are. I am.
We are good enough, but what kind of confidence do you have as a parent? Do you reflect upon your day, seeking validation from yourself? Or, do you look to the child for the self-assuredness we seek? If so, how much of that confidence is dependent upon the development of your child? If your child is thriving, is only then your self-confidence, too?
We have many responsibilities as parents, and part of this role is to ensure our children’s growth is going well. We consider their physical development, their personality, their identity, their joy. And we think about their education, too. How are they doing in school? What do they need? Are they thriving? Are they challenged? Are they kind? Are they happy? This is how we multi-task, right? No matter what a parent might do in a day, I believe these thoughts are always in mind. Our dear children. We do want to always get it right.
Because of this incessant desire to know and to understand how our children are doing, many parents are eager to push things at home. This might establish a better sense of the child's progress in that way, but is a sense of control settling in here, too?
When it comes to their education, we know it’s important and valuable to read with our children, to observe and nurture whatever interests them, and to provide them with an environment that is invigorating, pleasant, and joyful.
We seek all the provisions and make all the effort in hopes of simply keeping them engaged, but if we force the child to rehearse their numbers or the alphabet at the dinner table, or to read the same book over and over until it is rote, is this deepening their growing mind, or does this merely make us feel more like an accomplished parent?
If a distressed expectation is subconsciously put in place, the child might recognize it and feel it as such, but does the parent?
“We might ask ourselves how confident we are as the parent, but how confident are we in our children?”
We might find joy in flash cards with our children on a Sunday night, and there is absolute joy in learning together, but if we get to a place where we micro-manage their learning instead of simply spending quality time with them, a breach of trust settles in.
To impose any kind of agenda – if only to appease our own morale – is to lack the confidence that the child cannot achieve this on his own, or, if he does, that he will do it wrong.
We might ask ourselves how confident we are as the parent, but how confident are we in our children? How much do we trust our children to thrive in their own learning? How much do we respect their developmental process as it is? Do we believe they can rise to achievement on their own, or do we believe they need our control to get there?
To trust the child is to abandon our expectation of how he needs to learn and to be confident instead that we are giving him the guidance, attention, and environment to succeed in his own way.
We will always be asking ourselves, How are they doing? What do they need? Are they thriving? Are they challenged? Are they kind? Are they happy? But if we trust the child — if we advocate for his competence with all our might — the questions pare down to a simple and consistent thought that can apply to all growth in all their life: How engaged is the child?
When we look for the engagement – the deep interest and investment in whatever the child desires – we see beautiful signs of concentration that take away any pressure or obligation to impose.
Instead, the liberation and the joy in their work prevails. We become happy for the child, grateful to a be a part of their growth, however it comes, and we worry less about any confidence we might need to linger forever instead in theirs.
As published for Guidepost Montessori at Higher Ground.