Life on the Lakefront
June 2, 2004
from
JoeUser Forums
Years ago my family started the habit of sitting around the dinner table talking about what we learned that day. I borrowed this from Leo Buscaglia who was also known as the mad hugger. The idea that he presented was that every day you must be open to new learning and that as human beings we are both learning and growing or we are dying. I prefer the former; the practice of always striving to learn new things keeps us young.
Adopting Leo’s methods, every evening when we sat at the table I would ask my children, “What did you learn today?” Early on the answers were great, “We learned about dinosaurs,” or they learned about space or history. I remember a discussion about the French and Indian war that descended into a paper ball fight using furniture as cover. The learning was great fun. So were the discussions, I always learned a great deal. The problem was as my children grew older, their answers became more obscure or subtle. “What did you learn today?” I would ask. “Nothing,” was invariably the response. Then suddenly, in college and later high school years they began answering again. “What did you learn today?” I would still ask. These times I was stunned, there was an answer other than “Nothing.” My daughter said, “We learned about linear equations and analysis of variance and deviations from progressive approximations.” I was stunned; I did not even know she was taking a foreign language.
To learn means that we have to be willing to ask questions and to look at things new ways. It also means we have to take chances. Chances are what create learning opportunities. I remember one of Leo’s stories of a young couple that took their child to the park to feed the ducks. As a duck approached the young child, the father protectively reached out to hold the child back. The mother stopped him saying exploring was learning and chance was learning. Learning was risk. The duck who had not seen the show bit the kid on the backside, just kidding.
A similar incident happened to me on a trip. We had a wonderful room with a patio overlooking a duck pond, and my children wanted to feed the ducks. My wife suggested this was not a good idea but remembering the story of the young couple I allowed them to do so. It was a great experience. The children enjoyed interacting with the ducks. The ducks also enjoyed it, so much that when we returned to our room through the patio door. The ducks followed us all the way to the patio and then in an apparent return gift each duck pooped on the patio. Yes, we must be open to learning. Feed the ducks when you get the chance but make sure they don’t know where you live.
Adopting Leo’s methods, every evening when we sat at the table I would ask my children, “What did you learn today?” Early on the answers were great, “We learned about dinosaurs,” or they learned about space or history. I remember a discussion about the French and Indian war that descended into a paper ball fight using furniture as cover. The learning was great fun. So were the discussions, I always learned a great deal. The problem was as my children grew older, their answers became more obscure or subtle. “What did you learn today?” I would ask. “Nothing,” was invariably the response. Then suddenly, in college and later high school years they began answering again. “What did you learn today?” I would still ask. These times I was stunned, there was an answer other than “Nothing.” My daughter said, “We learned about linear equations and analysis of variance and deviations from progressive approximations.” I was stunned; I did not even know she was taking a foreign language.
To learn means that we have to be willing to ask questions and to look at things new ways. It also means we have to take chances. Chances are what create learning opportunities. I remember one of Leo’s stories of a young couple that took their child to the park to feed the ducks. As a duck approached the young child, the father protectively reached out to hold the child back. The mother stopped him saying exploring was learning and chance was learning. Learning was risk. The duck who had not seen the show bit the kid on the backside, just kidding.
A similar incident happened to me on a trip. We had a wonderful room with a patio overlooking a duck pond, and my children wanted to feed the ducks. My wife suggested this was not a good idea but remembering the story of the young couple I allowed them to do so. It was a great experience. The children enjoyed interacting with the ducks. The ducks also enjoyed it, so much that when we returned to our room through the patio door. The ducks followed us all the way to the patio and then in an apparent return gift each duck pooped on the patio. Yes, we must be open to learning. Feed the ducks when you get the chance but make sure they don’t know where you live.