Hannah Mayo | @hmayophoto
OUR CHILDREN ARE BORN WITH ALL THE SENSE OF wonder, curiosity, and adventure they will ever need. We cannot bestow these gifts on them. We can only provide the conditions in which they can thrive. We are the preservationists of childhood.
In 2011, I began homeschooling my son Wyatt in the belief that I could give him something he could never receive in the mainstream school system—a childhood. Today, my belief in the wonder of childhood is stronger than ever before.
“What is wonder?” you might ask. According to the Merriam-Webster online dictionary, wonder is “astonishment at something awesomely mysterious or new to one’s experience.”
Wonder isn’t some lofty ideal that we hope to impart to our children if we can. It’s the natural tendency to look at the world and want to explore it. Wonder is triggered by beauty, new discoveries, and our imaginations. Children live in a constant state of wonder. They’re always learning, exploring, and discovering new things.
Last summer, I was walking up the path to our home when the sight of something heart-wrenching stopped me dead in my tracks. A baby bird lay lifeless on the path. At first, I was inclined to hide it from my girls, keep their hearts free from sorrow, and spare us an afternoon of unnecessary pain. But I decided to let them experience the raw reality of nature instead.
My two-year-old daughter insisted on holding the hatchling in her chubby little hands until we convinced her that a burial was best. She stood beside the funeral plot behind our shed wailing for the tiny creature. My heart was heavy for her, but I couldn’t bear to strip her of the greater gift of wonder. I didn’t try to teach her about the circle of life or survival of the fittest. I simply let her exist in the state of not understanding or knowing.
And I chose to cry with her.
“If I had influence with the good fairy who is supposed to preside over the christening of all children, I should ask that her gift to each child in the world be a sense of wonder so indestructible that it would last throughout life.”
—RACHEL CARSON
Wonder is the birthright of every child. It is not limited to IMAX movies, lunar eclipses, and Christmas light displays. Wonder is the everyday inclination to look at the world through fresh eyes and desire to experience, learn, and explore. If given the chance, children will spend much of their time in a state of wonder.
In his book of essays called The Defendant, G. K. Chesterton observed, “The fascination of children lies in this: that with each of them, all things are remade, and the universe is put again upon its trial. As we walk the streets and see below us those delightful bulbous heads—three times too big for the body—we ought always to remember that within every one of these heads there is a new universe, as new as it was on the seventh day of creation.”
Then how is it that we seem to be losing our sense of wonder?
THE LOSS OF WONDER
Everyone and everything seems to be working hard to destroy wonder. Schools focus on assessing and ranking our children. They teach that playtime equals break time and that learning and playing are separate entities, with the latter getting very little attention at all.
Before long, the wonder is schooled right out of them.
In 2016, science teacher Matt Pritchard gave a TED Talk called “The Quantum State of Wonder.” He likened wonder to quantum physics in that it dwells in the realm of probability and possibility. He shared how wonder is the “wow” that leads to the “how.” He asserted that children should be allowed to hover in that in-between state.
As an educational tool, Pritchard said, “there’s power in wonder, in serious play, because wonder beckons us and whispers, ‘I wonder—what if?’”
He explained that by giving our children the answers and dismissing the chance of wonder, we inadvertently take away any internal motivation to learn and swap it for the external “carrot on a stick” motivation. We rob them of the magic, the not-knowing, the experience of learning.
“Education is not about giving the answer,” he argued. “Education is about finding the connections between different things and forging new connections. Education is about giving the confidence and skills to go and explore the world themselves.”
If all learning begins with wonder, then this should affect how we educate our children. Our tools should work more like magic wands than Mason jars as we look for ways to keep them flying, not contain them. We are not in this to manufacture products but to raise whole persons. One day, our children will have grown up. And they will undoubtedly feel the need to ground themselves in more concrete realities, to forget the parts of their childhood that birthed their futures into existence. But, for now, it’s up to us as mothers to restore what has been lost.
It’s up to you and me to reclaim the wonder of childhood.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. In the midst of temper tantrums, incessant arguing, bad moods, and, yes, even when the kids aren’t behaving all that well either, it’s hard to take responsibility for reclaiming wonder. As homeschooling mamas, all of us have challenging moments. There are days when nothing seems to be getting through. In these difficult but ordinary times, may we return to life-changing pursuit of wonder.
When was the last time you imagined what it was like to experience life as a tiny wildflower growing in the middle of a field, a butterfly in the garden, or a tree swaying in the wind?
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Children do this all the time, which is why their potential to learn is endless. It’s why they are able to change the world with their imaginative ideas. And it’s why Albert Einstein repeatedly credited his discoveries to his childlike thinking, even as an adult.
He wrote, “The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science. He to whom the emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand wrapped in awe, is as good as dead—his eyes are closed.”
When was the last time you imagined what it was like to experience life as a child?
I wonder what our homeschools would look like if only we would.
WHERE WONDER CAN BE FOUND
Wonder is not to be found in the mad dash of curriculums and coursework. It won’t be discovered on chalkboards or checklists. When our children memorize vast amounts of facts and dates, it may swell our hearts for a season, warding off fears that we haven’t completely messed up their lives by this daring decision to homeschool. But it will never restore wonder.
“The most unfathomable schools and sages have never attained to the gravity which dwells in the eyes of a baby of three months old. It is the gravity of astonishment at the universe, and astonishment at the universe is not mysticism, but a transcendent common sense.”
—G. K. CHESTERTON
The conventional metrics of education may help us fulfill the state’s requirements and stave off the critical remarks of grandparents and grocers. It may give us hope that our children will somehow be better off by being schooled at home. But it will never save childhood.
Wonder can be found only in the wide-open pastures of time and freedom to be a child—the last remaining expanses on Earth where imaginations can gallop without fear of being captured and where concepts such as progress and performance are replaced with memories and moments.
Why do we fear letting our kids be kids? Rhodes scholars aren’t made in the third grade (or the ninth, for that matter). Novelists and Nobel laureates aren’t created with a curriculum. Our children’s futures come from something infinitely more personal—the awareness of self, the love of learning, and the freedom to follow one’s interests into greater areas of passion.
Let’s release our children back into the wild where they belong. Giving them time to be kids does not detract from their potential, not at all. It gives them roots with which to drink from the deep springs of knowledge. Not the kind of knowledge that shows up on achievement tests but the sort that shapes their futures and enables them to make an indelible mark on the world.
The consequence of growing up with a fully realized childhood is a healthy disregard for impossibility and the deliberate avoidance of the status quo.
Let us not fear how long it takes our children to grow up, to act like adults. Their maturation will come soon enough and, once attained, can never be reversed. Childhood becomes like the attics and tree forts from long ago that shaped our youth but now exist only in distant memory.
As my youngest son struggles to learn how to read and write because of his dyslexia and fears being surpassed by his younger sisters, I mourn for his frustration. I grieve for the angst it must cause him to see a street sign and not be able to read it or to be around peers who talk about reading books and not be able to join them.
But I have no concern whatsoever about whether he will succeed in life. I feel no pressure to rush his childhood or advance him beyond his age. His time will come. His capabilities will catch up with his years. And his creativity will continue to flourish. In the meantime, it is my duty to give him a lush, fertile childhood from which the rest of his life will spring.
As Karen Andreola said, “A plant blooms from within. When the environment is right, the plant flourishes because it is living.”
THE BENEFITS OF BOREDOM
Kids will often say they’re bored when faced with the time and space to experience unbridled wonder. But boredom has its benefits. Let us not mistake idle time for wasted time. A day without scheduled activities from sunup to sundown does not make an unproductive child but, rather, a happy one, a child who is capable of devising her own plan.
BOREDOM BUSTERS
OUTDOOR ACTIVITIES
Backyard scavenger hunt (by color, by theme, or random)
“Painting” the fence—bucket of water and real paintbrush
Boomerang in backyard
Water rockets
“Volcano” making (vinegar and baking soda)
Measuring the fence with a tape measure
INDOOR ACTIVITIES
Art cart
Woodworking caddy
Knitting needles and yarn
Sidewalk chalk
Window chalk
Modeling beeswax
Take apart an old radio or camera
Put together circuits
Fix something that’s broken
Story rocks
Word search
Help Mama cook and clean
Create a new recipe
Listen to an audiobook
Water beads
Wood figures painting
Art kits from craft store
“Loose parts”
The thing about boredom is that from the outside, it looks exactly like inactivity. But inside, boredom is the incubator for every great idea, dream, and new creation. Boredom is the wardrobe through which every artist, inventor, and explorer must pass in order to enter new worlds. It is the toll that must be paid before children can flourish in their imaginations.
As parents, our challenge is to help our children walk through it rather than avoid it. Our temptation is to give them a screen, fill up their time, and scratch their shallow itch to save ourselves from their cries for relief. But that bypasses the deep soul work that fosters creativity and imagination in our kids. By stifling their complaints for something to do, we squelch their capacity to transform idle moments into valuable time. In effect, we stunt their creative growth.
“This savoring of life is no small thing. The element of wonder is almost lost today with the onslaught of the media and gadgets of our noisy world. To let a child lose it is to make him blind and deaf to the best of life.”
—GLADYS M. HUNT
Currently, as I write these very words, my twelve-year-old is constructing a full-body bear costume out of cardboard, complete with moving joints, arm bands, and moving fingers. Why, you may ask? Who knows? But I recognize the work of boredom when I see it. The power of inspiration and the belief that he can bring it to life has him working around the clock.
But oh, my kitchen. The mess is of epic proportions. There are threads of hot glue strung from floor to ceiling. Cardboard cutouts and scrap paper are scattered all over the floor. Paint is splattered across every surface. And despite the cleanup he does every night before bed, I wake up to an entirely new construction zone the next morning.
I could choose to let practicality win, insist I’m not irrational for sequestering his creativity to another room, convince myself a kitchen is not for crafting, and declare that responsibility equals orderliness. But where, may I ask, is he to go? What is homeschooling if not art class as well as history class? What is self-directed learning if not an experiment in living?
What is this lifestyle if not an incubator for wonder?
Show me a child who knows how to fill an afternoon in spite of no organized activities at his disposal, and I’ll show you a kid who won’t have to worry about boredom for the rest of his life. Even more, I’ll show you an individual who can create something remarkable out of nothing.
PRACTICAL WONDER
Wonder exists whether we foster it or not. It dwells in the depths of our souls, and if the embers haven’t entirely been snuffed out, it doesn’t take much to reawaken the flames. Spending time in nature is a sure way to foster wonder. Kids can’t help but be drawn to the mysterious, from the mesmerizing flight of the hummingbird to the unusual identity of the assassin bug.
Education is not the opposite of wonder. When done right, education continually applies a child’s natural sense of wonder to discover new things and, in turn, fills them with more wonder.
Robert Sapolsky, the author of The Trouble with Testosterone, wrote, “The purpose of science is not to cure us of our sense of mystery and wonder, but to constantly reinvent and reinvigorate it.”1
Wonder spurs curiosity. Curiosity drives inquiry. And inquiry always leads to discovery. If you want to help your kids make great discoveries, expose them to a plethora of phenomena. From charting weather patterns and studying photosynthesis to experimenting with gravity, a deliberate dabbling with wonder will move children from curiosity to inquiry to knowledge.
Read books in the settings of their subjects. Enjoy Black Beauty at the equestrian center, The Swiss Family Robinson in the backyard tree house, and Treasure Island on the banks of your nearest body of water. Get lost in good books by first getting lost in the woods.
Take a nature walk to collect specimens, and then make handicrafts using only the items you found. Create a “nature nook” or “cabinet of curiosities” in your home, and save their sacred shelves for only the best finds. Devise scavenger hunts for items that can be found only during specific seasons, such as icicles in winter, cicada shells in summer, and pine cones in fall.
Take up the practice of nature journaling and teach your children that artistic skill doesn’t matter as much as the experience. Practice painting mushrooms, honeycombs, and bird’s nests until your children notice the difference in how they are made. Gather natural materials and attempt your own nests to get a greater appreciation for what our feathered friends require.
Skip the math workbook and take your numbers out into nature. Calculate gallons of milk and the length of fence per acre at the nearest farm. Watch how they churn butter for science and climb the hay bales for P.E. Study symmetry by finding leaves that mirror their other halves.
Keep your eye on the celestial calendar, and pull out the telescope or download a star-viewing app for sky-watching parties at night. Make the moon phases with cookies, or create the constellations with nails and string. Find out what it takes to become an apiarist, start keeping chickens, or visit the wild ponies at Chincoteague. Let learning come alive in your hands.
Play the music loud and host dance parties in your kitchen. Clear the closets of clutter and let them become secret play spaces. Build shelves around the front window, install a bench seat, and create a book nook where your kids can escape into literature. Learn how to make sourdough. Create your own ice cream, trail mix, pumpkin bread, or apple butter.
In the springtime, collect raindrops in a beaker and document each rainfall. Run outside to splash in puddles and save the worms that got stuck on the sidewalk. Come inside to watercolor the cloudy skies, green galoshes, and unwieldy umbrellas. Talk about where the animals go when it rains, and laugh about your drenched clothes.
Push back the living room furniture and pile blankets and pillows on the floor to turn your read-alouds into parties. Make the most of rainy days by going outside to feel the rain on your face. Install your own sundial, rain catcher, or wind turbine to take the elements into your control.
Visit the thrift store for fashion finds, and have your children craft their own line of clothing. Hang a hummingbird feeder, fill it with nectar, and wait for the miniature marvels to appear. Find out what sort of wildlife lives in your neighborhood, and go out on muddy days looking for footprints.
Visit the library, but refuse to be merely a patron. Learn how the Dewey decimal system works and help the librarian return the books to their rightful places. Learn from visiting authors, attend a workshop or two, or even lead your own class on an area of expertise.
Find the most remote place in nature within minutes of your house and howl like a wolf. Chase butterflies and pick wildflowers, but don’t just pick them. Save them. Press them into books. Press them in picture frames. Learn all about them. Memorize their scientific names.
Grow the most exotic plant your climate can accommodate. Grow tomato plants from seeds on your windowsill, and then transplant them to your garden when they get too big for the pot.
Host an art show, a science fair, a maker market, or a nature festival. Take your best forest finds and exchange them with someone in a far-off place. Start a small business and give the proceeds to someone in need. Learn how to bind books, mount jewelry, or code a website.
Light candles or build a fire and read under the blankets for the whole day. Read poetry aloud for the sheer pleasure of it. Plan a backyard Shakespeare night with friends. Invite your neighbors and reenact your favorite stories by the beloved bard.
Lie down on the grass and feel the earth beneath you. Walk outside after dark and hold up your arms to a sky filled with stars. Drive to a clearing and watch the full moon rise over the horizon. Make snow angels in the fresh powder. Catch snowflakes on your tongue. Find shapes in the puffy clouds on an autumn day. Catch fireflies at dusk and the sunrise at dawn.
Become members of the local aquarium. Visit museums. Explore tidepools. Go whale-watching in winter. Look for owls at night. Become a tourist in your own hometown.
Follow your children’s daydreams out the window, into the backyard, and down the road. Seize the opportunities when their imaginations are wandering, and give them the freedom to chase them. The books and projects are patient. The question is, are you?
The world is your classroom. Your curiosity is the course. Get a degree in the life lessons that intrigue you, and print out your own diploma acknowledging the work that you’ve done.
Wonder is waiting.