Adventures of an Early Childhood Advocate

One of my favorite poems is “I saw a Man” by Stephen Crane:

I saw a man, pursuing the horizon

Round and Round they sped

“It is futile” I said, “You can never...”

“YOU LIE” he cried and ran on

This has been stuck in my head for decades.  It speaks to the human condition of passion, reckless abandon, true faith, and a touch of logic.

But here’s the reality check:   Both men are right.  Both are looking through the sphere of their own perspectives.  And neither is able to see the other’s point of view. 

-R. D. Laing

Giving children a sense of history helps them to define their place in the world. A college professor once told me that history can be defined as “facts and the interpretation of those facts”. For young children, history stretches as far back as their memories. The first step in giving children a sense of history is to begin with things that happened recently - last week, last month, that special field trip we took last year. Photos are a great way to help children to record their history. Return to them often, and tell the story of what happened. As you look at the photos, point to them and attach language. “Remember when we picked our pumpkin? We walked all over the farm looking for the biggest, most round one.” Grasp the memories that children have, even if they are not accurate in your memory. If the child brings up something that you recall as inaccurate or that you don’t recall at all, prompt her to share more. “TEll me more about that” is a good phrase to use. Children can dictate captions for photographs and full stories as well. This will help them to associate written language with their own experiences.

Kids love to hear stories, and if they are of a personal nature they won’t forget them. Pieces of a family’s history stay alive through the adept storytelling htat passes from generation to generation. The i individual who relates the event doesn’t have to be a great storyteller - chances are that the story was passed down with all the richness and detail already in place. Most families have at least one great storyteller - the person who keeps the family stories alive. For emit was my great-grandmother. She could spin a yarn that would keep me enraptured and it didn’t matter if the story was true, half true, or a total piece of fiction. She used colorful language and many details in her storeis, maing them rich with imagery and sound effects. Family stories give children a asense of personal history within the context of their culture. They may not have lived through all of the events that are told, but they most likely know one of the key characters in family stories.

Children do not get a sense of history without a frame of reference. Facts about past events may be memorized, but they are not internalized. Young children are trying to make sense of the present on a daily basis and can not grasp the abstract concepts of events that occurred in the distant past. In order to make historical figures and events come alive for young children, it is essential that you relate them to what’s going on in the child’s life. For example, you child will likely only grasp rudimentary concepts of hte struggles of historical figures like Rosa Parks during the civil rights movement. What until the next time you heart a child wail, “That’s not fair!” and use that as the springboard to discuss injustice. Then you can pullin those historical figures that represent the battle for equity and equality once the children ghave a personal connection to those concepts.

Such senseless loss

Beautiful human

Hasn’t even started to live really

Gone in a moment

This is my prayer to those who are hurting

You’re not alone

You’re never alone

We are an earthly community

No matter how you feel or what you perceive

There are those who love you just for existing

Who would reach out if we knew what you were struggling with

Who would miss you, even if we’d never met

There is so much ugliness in the world

Violence and pain and disease

To snuff out your own spark

Or be snatched away from us by circumstance

The cause doesn’t matter

Childhood memories have a tendency to be fuzzy.  Some things, however, are as clear as crystal.  Perhaps it’s because the story has been told so many times that it becomes a living thing all its own.

For as long as I can remember, my grandfather had an airplane propeller with a clock embedded in the center hanging over his fireplace.  Knowing what an avid pilot my grandfather was, it didn’t strike me as out of the ordinary.  He had lots of pictures of planes, statues of planes, models of planes...you get the picture.  It wasn’t until I was in my teens that I heard the origin of the propeller clock.

My grandfather served in the USAF in WWII, but he never got to fly a plane.  He became an aviator later, of his own accord.  He loved to fly and would do so any chance he could get.  He owned a variety of planes over the years, maintaining them in a private hangar at the Napa Airport.  He’d often call up friends or family members and say, “meet me at the airport.  We’re going to lunch”.  As a child, I loved this!  The feeling of flying, the knowledge that someone you truly trust is at the controls, and all of it surrounded by family was invigorating.  My favorite place to go was the Nut Tree in Vacaville.  That was a short flight, but it made me feel so cosmopolitan!

Grandpa was a car man by trade.  He had a keen eye for good deals and was meticulous when inspecting vehicles.  He also sold a few planes over the years, typically adding seats and power as the family grew.  It was on one of these occasions that the propeller story was born.  He had an eye on a new plane, so he listed the current one for sale.  He made sure the plane was in perfect condition before showing it to potential buyers.  

A long time colleague of granpa was interested in the small plane for sale.  He offered a trade-in of a Cadillac.  Grandpa agreed to meet the man at the airport.  He used his best car sales tactics in describing the features of the plane and allowed the man to take his time inspecting it while he inspected the Cadillac.  Grandpa didn’t miss anything when inspecting the vehicle.    He’d make a mental note of every scrape, scratch and detail - including the spare tire in the trunk.  The gents came to an agreement and hands were shaken.  They set a date to put the finances in order and make the sale.

When the day arrived to make the exchange, my grandfather once again looked over the vehicle and discovered that the spare tire he had previously observed was missing.  He confronted the buyer, who was adamant that my grandfather was mistaken and there was never a spare tire in the trunk.  Grandpa didn’t argue much.  He drove off in the Caddy and wished the man well.

My family has been in a process of digitizing home movies for some time.  I was sifting through some that I found on a flash drive, watching only the ones that I knew I hadn’t already uploaded to the cloud.  My firstborn’s first birthday party and her first taste (but certainly not the last!) of chocolate.  She looks a lot like my granddaughter in the video.  I’m just observing the messy exploration of chocolate cake when a voice on the video hits me like a punch to the gut:  My grandfather, who passed away in 2005.