The following is a guest post from 4C for Children’s Director of Information Systems, Terri Alekzander.
Full disclosure. I am not a parent. I am the adopted aunt to the children of many dear friends. I like to buy gifts that make noise, pretend swings are airplanes. And I love to build forts out of dining room furniture.
My friends know that their child will be returned safely, a little more dirty, but safe. Recently I had a chance to spend some time with eight-year-old twins, Logan and Seth. Fun, fun age. We went to a small local lake outside of Boston. After stowing our belongings on a blanket in the sand I headed for the water with both boys in tow. The afternoon was complete with a seamless blue sky and sunshine sparkling on the water. I’m chattering away and splashing toward the first line of buoys when I turn around to see how they are doing. They aren’t. They are standing at the edge of the water staring at me as if I’ve crossed into some unknown world. My heart sank.
“Come on, guys. The water’s not cold,”
“We can’t swim.”
“Can’t swim? But I’ve seen pictures of you swimming.”
“That’s in a pool. We don’t know how to swim in a lake.”
At first I wanted to wave my hand at them and tell them how silly they were being. Water is water. Swimming is swimming. Come on, this was fun. Swimming in a lake opens up a whole world of possibilities for finding rocks, bits of shell, decaying logs and what not. But in front of me were these tiny little guys in swim trunks, wiggling their toes in the brown sand, hugging their arms across their chests. This was different. I waded back to them and sat down on the sand.
After only a few minutes of exploring the sand and its contents which included rocks, twigs and leaves, they were ankle-deep in the water and noticing small fish swimming around their legs. We were making progress, but the pièce de résistance was when I lost my footing and landed on my behind in the water. The splashing commenced. Now with a common target, they forgot their apprehension about the unusual stuff beneath their feet and set about making sure that I was completely soaked. Mind you I was wearing shorts that I rolled up. I hadn’t planned on getting thoroughly wet. However, once I realized they were no longer concerned about the lack of chlorine in the lake water, I didn’t care that I was going to drive home in wet clothes with my hair plastered to my head.
It didn’t start out the way I planned. It ended up better than I could have imagined complete with a very complicated game about splashing that I only barely understood. And I was reminded that while children are curious, curiosity does not come without apprehension. Before starting anything new and unfamiliar it is always a good idea to pause and ask questions. Rarely should we blindly follow someone, even someone we love, into unfamiliar waters.