Several years ago, my daughter and I took a nature walk on Cape Cod. A skinny trail branched off the main path, and my daughter asked where this little trail led. When I answered I had no idea, her response was: “Great! Let’s take it and see where it goes!” So we did. We walked through a wooded canopy accompanied by the tangy smell of pine trees. Half an hour later, the trail abruptly ended and opened to a stunning beach inlet. With only seagulls for company, my daughter and I sat on the sand and admired the view. Years later, my daughter still refers to this tiny stretch of water as “our beach.”
Unfortunately, I have a feeling if my daughter and I now came upon another unknown trail, my daughter would whip out her smart phone and read reviews on Trip Advisor. After all, why waste time following a path that might not lead to anything important? Our modern sensibilities dictate if we do not know exactly what we will encounter, it’s not worth taking a single step.
I understand technology allows us new ways to explore. We obtain information, phone numbers and directions and often go outside our comfort zones as a result. But forming a decision based on twenty Google reviews is not the same as making one’s own discovery. It is true that even before the high-tech age, we got ideas of where to go and what to see from newspapers, television, and friends’ recommendations. However, don’t we all remember the joy of discovering something on our very own? My daughter and I were clearly not the first (nor last!) people to discover that hidden beach, but this tiny strip of seashore belonged to us — even if for a fleeting moment — because we found it ourselves and on our own time.
Throughout history, children have accompanied their parents while exploring the world. Our innate spirit of adventure is a great gift. But how do we keep this skill alive when advances of the information age are increasing exponentially? Having so much information at our fingertips obliterates our need and desire to discover. Perhaps when deciding what to do and where to go, we shouldn’t grab our phones, laptops and iPads. Sometimes, we need to just get out and act.
And I wonder, isn’t this over-reliance on information akin to the way some kids are over-reliant on their parents? Telling our children exactly what steps to take and how to live can be extremely efficient. After all, why shouldn’t we share our wisdom? Our kids won’t need to ferret out information; they won’t waste time on less than perfect decisions. But by becoming www.parental-tripadvisors.com, we deprive our children of the joy that lies in taking one’s own journey.
Parents can give advice when asked and should offer guidance particularly when their kids are in peril. There is obvious value in experience and maturity, and the world has become more dangerous. However, this does not mean we must provide a mandatory playbook. It’s tempting to discourage discovery when we suspect the end result might be imperfect. But in urging our children to follow their own path, we allow them to take ownership of their decisions. Their journey lets them discover not just what is out there, but who they are inside. The value of the journey does not always lie in what our children find; it is what they create along the way. Our kids are human and will make mistakes, but the journey remains empowering. Even if that little Cape Cod trail had led to a dead end, my daughter and I still would have cherished the stroll.
Jews, in particular, have always been encouraged to study, question and seek answers even when the search is difficult. It is this search — along with God’s teachings — that provides strength. Avot 5:27 of The Mishnah states:
“According to the effort is the reward.”
So instead of always relying on other people’s information, why don’t we set our children a good example by exploring freely without technological guidance? Let’s raise our children with a strong platform of faith so Jewish values can serve both as their springboard and the paving stones beneath their journeying feet. Let’s avoid opening our children’s life diaries and writing the entries. The entries they create on their own might be unexpected but will often be remarkable.
This article first appeared in The Jewish Advocate, Boston, Mass on August 14, 2015.
