Up! or how to kick-ass like a 5-year-old
Tuesday, April 10, 2012 at 09:02AM 
It was kind of a lonely job a lot of the time, parenting a young child when no one else we knew had kids, when all of our friends were still just-the-two-of-them, when all the other parents we knew seemed so much older and settled and richer than we did. Wait, they didn’t just SEEM it: they really WERE it, older, settled, richer. And in Marin County where we live, when we’re talking richer, we really, really mean it.
It could sometimes knock our socks off taking The Kid to a party at someone’s house: the grounds, the party amenities, the contents of one goody bag representing the approximate total budget for the party we would throw. Even to host a party at our place was challenging: where to put all those kids in our modest 1200 square foot house, kids who are used to acreage, inside and out, not just their own room but their own wing. None of those other parents were ever hoity-toity about it, you know, but when you’re coming from living on $24K/year and your kid’s on scholarship, you can’t not notice the chasm between what you’re able to provide and what other parents can.
The Kid pretty much went everywhere with us. OK, except to clubs, when we’d leave him with a babysitter or, more commonly, at a grandparent or friend’s house overnight. But other than that, we were pretty much inseparable. We’d go hang out in bookstores, treating them like our private library, go to the beach, hang out at home and make stuff. It was fun.
But also lonely, because even with the other parents, particularly with those older parents, we had broad differences of opinion when it came to child-rearing.
We joke that in those days we had a lot of principles
because they were all that we could afford.
Ha ha ha, but there’s a lot of truth to that. We had a lot of opinions in those days. Partly because of The Kid’s very serious dairy allergy, we’d been vegan for a long time. Need I say more?
The thing about having The Kid in Waldorf School was that at least we could count on some bare minimum philosophical common ground with the other parents – an emphasis on the outdoors and old school activities like keeping a garden or knitting or painting, a de-emphasis on bullshit plastic toys and television. But in significant areas, we were always outliers: big believers in manners and independence, in The Kid having opportunities to prove himself to himself, from simple stuff like being able to ask politely for what he wanted in a restaurant (and stay in his seat the whole time) to riding his bike somewhere alone or with friends, out of our watchful eye. I don’t get the whole helicopter parenting thing. I’m much more aligned with free-range parenting, something I think we need more of.
We need to be raising free, capable people.
Kids and teens are amazing, if only we can step out of their way to greatness. I think some people think I don't like kids. But that's not it: I adore kids, I just don't like brats. I think we can hold kids to a high standard of behavior and self-reliance and they're better for it.
Up, my copyWhich is probably why I loved Up: A Mother and Daughter’s Peakbagging Adventure so much.
Up is the story of Trish Herr and her then five-year-old daughter's adventures climbing all 48 of New Hampshire's 4,000-foot peaks. Trish starts from a place I recognized and applauded, from a sense of how capable kids really are. Her daughter Alex is the driver of this project -- it's clear from the story that Trish encourages the hiking, but never demands it of her children (because 3-year-old Sage gets in on it, too), using it as an opportunity to expose her daughter to the best in nature and the best in human nature along the way.
Alex is a remarkable kid who learns, in addition to the simple satisfaction of tagging that summit every time, that just because she's small, doesn't mean she's weak. That just because she's a girl, doesn't mean she can't. Just because other people haven't seen a determined five-year-old trekking to a summit, doesn't mean it can't be done.
There's a great scene in which an older man stops Alex on a trail and states, "Well, aren't you sweet for trying? It's a long way though -- a little girl like you shouldn't be trying to hike such a big, grown-up mountain." In that single moment on the trail, there it is: the potential for one person to kill dreams, to shoot holes in a child's sense of her own power and ability, to talk down and underestimate not just a child, but a girl-child. It's entirely enraging, especially since by this point I'm more than 50 pages into the story, I'm rooting for Alex, I know she can do it. And I'm face-to-face again, as I repeatedly was as a parent, not just with the limiting thinking of others but also with their willingness to impose their way, never considering that they might be wrong, never considering that they weren't asked.
Up, your copyOf course, Alex makes it: she climbs all 48 peaks. Her sister Sage does too, on her own schedule. These girls will be a force to be reckoned with, that's for sure, as they grow up. Their father was a climbing prodigy (something which emerges in the book, in a delightful sideways manner, without taking anything away from Alex's story), so it's possible it's in their genes. But more than that, it's in the parenting: with this beginning, Alex and Sage will be phenomenal grown-ups even if they never hike another trail again.
Through their adventure with their mother, they learn something invaluable that all of us get to re-learn, reading their story:
If you want to do something big, something daring and grand and huge, then don't automatically shrug and assume that you're too young, too old, too weak, too busy, too poor, too frazzled, or too small. Learn, persevere, sweat. Take the time to figure out how to do it correctly, then go to it with a giant spirit of adventure and enjoy the climb.
It's really a lovely story. I was thoroughly engrossed, couldn't put it down, read passages aloud to Joe, and hope nothing but success for this family. I don't need to hope though. Those girls are going to rock their whole lives, that much is assured.
They've learned everything that's most important already. And they're not even 10. The rest of this is all a cake-walk for them. It's cake.
Go buy this book! Read it and get inspired to get outside. If you see some kids out there on the trail, cheer them on! Truly that's our most important shared work as adults: to marvel in the capabilities of children, to help them stay whole and stay awesome, and kick-ass even if they're 5.
XX
As a member of From Left to Write, the online bloggers book club, I received a copy of Up: A Mother and Daughter’s Peakbagging Adventure. All opinions, as usual, are my own.
Reader Comments (6)
Ariane,
First, I LOVE the layout of your blog post. So attractive and easy-to-read. Second, I commend your parenting choices! I'm a grandmother now (probably the only one in Lefttowrite!) and have seen a vast array of parenting choices. I'm on board with yours!
I'm so with you on kids being capable AND having independence and standards. While we aren't quite the same dichotomy that you were, I have many friends whose living rooms would contain my house. I joke that we're going to build character because our children will be the ones who don't have the brand new BMW in the driveway on their sixteenth birthdays. Except that it's not a joke, and sometimes it's hard to get by ... but I know I can and I know the wee ones can. I love how you let the free range happen!
We're in the same situation... Living in a super-affluent area in a tiny house. We laugh about it a lot, but we live on a busier street and no matter how hard I try not to be a helicopter parent, it's just impossible. Granted, my oldest in three, so he can't even ride a bike yet...
I feel the same way sometimes. I have friends who are much more affluent and while they don't flaunt it-it's their way of life- we notice. I'm working hard to raise independent kids who think for themselves and respect others. Whew! I feel tired just typing that. I think the reason so many adults are so impatient is because many had parents who did everything for them. They never had to work hard to get something (helicopter parenting at work). We need to trust our children.
I am also a big fan of teaching kids independence and letting them spread their wings. I'm more of a free range parent than a helicopter parent, and I let my kids do things some others might not. We encourage them to respect everyone, even if they look or act or speak differently than what they're used to, and we encourage them to think for themselves. I really enjoyed reading your post!
Very well said. I hope my son is willing to take risks and sweat to achieve goals!