I'll explain.
We don't navel-gaze too much about whether we adults are
doing the right thing by buggering off on a sailboat for years or decades. We've largely given up on the idea of
the "right" thing to do, after all. A well-led life, to my generation, means having an
adequately funded retirement.
Ahh – but the kids.
When it comes to the kids, there is a little room for
introspection. Is this right for
the kids?
A lot of the ideas about the enriching aspects of life as
little voyagers – all that stuff about meeting people from different cultures,
being exposed to different places and ideas. That's true to an extent. But our kids spend a lot more time cooped up with parents
who are grumpy and a little over-tasked than they do being enriched by travel
experiences.
So, is that "good" for them? Or should they be off with their
cousins from the contiguous United States who are apparently being enriched day
after day, week after week, year after year? You know – all that stuff about learning to play the
violin/piano/guitar or playing hockey/softball/lacrosse or going to Thespian
Camp/Auteur Camp/Exotic Financial Instruments Camp?
Or how about friends.
Should our kids have them?
Is this an important part of life?
Will there be a friend quiz at some point that our kids will bomb?
Actually, we on Galactic
don't navel-gaze too far in this direction, as the answers that we come up with
tend to be negative.
Into the introspective breach strides Jared Diamond, that
colossus of Easily Digested Big Ideas for our time.
(I was so happy to finally meet an academic geographer a few
years back – shout out to you Ben – and to ask his opinion on Diamond. I knew
it would be negative. Just like
the evolutionary biologists of my acquaintance and Stephen Jay Gould. The popularizers are popular with
everyone but their own tribe. But
I for one unabashedly love Guns, Germs
and Steel.)
I'm thinking of Diamond's The World Until Yesterday, his book about the lessons that
traditional
societies might offer us – specifically, about his chapter on
childhood.
Our kids have been playing this fishing game lately. If "game" is all-encompassing
enough of a word.
Basically they carefully draw various fish from our field
guide to reef fish – peacock grouper!
bluefin trevally! Almaco
jack! They cut them out. And they catch them.
They catch them with nets (old bits of hammock). They catch them with rod and reel
(generally drinking-straw based).
They catch them with spear guns (ditto). They test them with their ciguatera testers.
Odd things happen – piranhas get in their net and Wolfie the
stuffed timber wolf is called in to deal with them. There are exhortations. There are boat journeys. There is an orgy of fish clubbing and fish bleeding and fish
gutting. The boys have their chant
for hauling the nets, just like the chants that sailors and fishermen have
always used when working under muscle power – heave-and-haul-and-heave-and-haul-and. There is a whole side game that seems to involve fish smuggling. It goes on for much of the day (not
without a steady backbeat of sibling conflict) and continues into the
night. Elias has been complaining
that Eric's exuberant invitations to post-bedtime story "night
fishing" are too tempting to forego and have been depriving him of sleep.
We have one ream of paper on board, which is serving for my
various science and writing needs, as well as for Alisa's production of school
materials. When the boys get a
twice-printed-upon sheet of paper for their use they are ecstatic. It is treasure. Every horizontal space in the yacht collects
drifts of realistically depicted paper fish.
And – we have never had anything to do with it. No adult has ever suggested the game,
encouraged the game, or helped with the game. I limit my involvement to occasionally yelling at them when
there are too many fish and hooks and nets lying around the very limited sole
in the saloon.
Without a copy of The
World Until Yesterday at hand, I cannot refresh myself on Diamond's
argument about children's play in Western and traditional societies. But my memory is that he sees the
"educational" toys of the West as creativity-stifling lessons in
following directions, while he sees the elaborate toys that kids from
traditional societies make from scrap materials, without any adult involvement,
as opportunities to play at being human in the world.
So, it's not much, but that's what our kids seem to have
going for them lately. I would
crow about how all of this opportunity for an old-fashioned childhood that is
time-rich and free of adult-directed play might give our kids some
"advantage" relative to their cohort back in the U.S. Except that I can see the fad, just
over the horizon, as land-bound parents attempt to give their kids the only advantage
that we seem to be giving ours - Unstructured Time Camp!
our kids have plenty of unstructured time, it is not camp, it just is. the play in this house looks quite similar to the play in your house. invented by the children themselves, including the toys. that type of existence is not geographically contingent. geographically prevalent, though.
ReplyDeleteI know - not all that different from life ashore. But…I forget what life ashore is like!
DeleteOr maybe you guys aren't enriching your kids enough? Is that it?
Or maybe humor and child rearing is a tough mix...
ah Mike - give up your day job. Brilliant piece of writing. As for the outcome of your chosen school of child-rearing, well, it's in the lap of the gods....but don't let that spoil your enjoyment of the spectacle!
ReplyDelete