I was searching the underside of a square, plastic camera battery this morning, looking for a model number when I read the warning label:
Do Not Incinerate
Do Not Expose To High Temps
Do Not Disassemble
I have a somewhat vague idea of the consequences of extreme heat coming in contact with a battery. As such, those first two warnings glide right over my radar. But the third: Do Not Disassemble. Now that is interesting.
I’ve seen old, oozing AA batteries, but this is plastic and square and I’ve taken for granted its contents might be different. That one simple statement has me asking myself how one would go about disassembling it in the first place, wondering what it looks like inside (one big cavity?), what would happen if I did open it (immediate mess or would it be contained within the plastic?) and what else might I find (electrical components or just battery acid)?
These questions never once entered my mind until I was given the instruction to avoid them.
So, what do I do? I grab all the kids in the RV park and we crack that puppy open.
Knowing vs. Understanding
I consider myself a life-long learner. I love learning and trying new things. And so do most kids when given the freedom to expand independently, a privilege we adults often take for granted. But there is a difference between learning and being told, knowing and understanding.
While knowing implies understanding, the two words are not necessarily mutual.
I know I shouldn’t disassemble a battery. After all, I’ve been told. But I don’t really understand why.
And a lack of understanding in an interested person inevitably leads to investigation.
What My Disassembled Battery Tells Me About Parenting
We can inform our children of potential dangers until we’re blue in the face. We can tell them to quiet down when someone is sleeping. We can insist they not live in squalor.
But until they understand it for themselves, we’re likely just stoking their curiosity in the very thing we wish they’d avoid.
Without understanding they’ll be wanting to try swimming alone, wondering just how loud they have to be to wake the neighborhood or just how many insects can live under a pile of dirty socks.
Children have a desire to do well. But they can also only do as well as the tools they possess, and understanding is a mighty big tool. It’s often too big for many kids to grasp.
This is not an excuse to force them to understand something you feel is valuable.
After all, telling them repeatedly something they don’t understand, nor have a desire to understand, does not lead to real understanding. It leads to knowing. (And I may know E=MC2 but I’ll give you one guess as to whether or not I understand it.)
When Our Desire Clashes With Their Inability
There are obviously times when our desire for their understanding feels urgent: safety being the most obvious.
At ten years old, Zeb has been an avid bike rider for six years. When he first learned I really wanted him to know the dangers of traffic, the inability of a large vehicle to stop quickly and the impossibility of seeing a small bike from the seat of a large truck.
But more importantly underlying those desires, I desired him the life skills to be safe, the ability to look ahead (or behind), remain aware of his surroundings and possess what is often considered “common sense”.
Here’s the rub: common sense didn’t become common by word of mouth. It became common because we humans have the common desire to explore, experiment and experience. And we also have the common ability to learn best by doing and seeing for ourselves: we do and thus we understand, making something “common sense”.
But something most parents don’t understand: they aren’t encouraging common sense, nor are they allowing for understanding. They are simply demanding obedience.
But without a person’s ability to explore, experiment and experience, real understanding of the world (and actions appropriate to living in it) remains elusive.
What do we do then, when their lack of understanding poses a risk?
Fill In The Gaps
So many adults (not just parents, but grandparents, teachers, store clerks, neighbors, our culture in general) fall into the trap of expecting too much from children and feeling frustrated or inconvenienced when they fail to meet our expectations.
But children are not miniature versions of an adult. They cannot and will not be able to understand everything you, as an adult, can comprehend. No matter how many times it’s repeated.
Children will have gaps in their knowledge, just as adults with a busted battery have gaps in theirs.
Do not attempt to fill a child’s understanding gap with your own knowledge (demands, instructions, lecturing).
Fill that gap with your presence.
The next time one of them wants to crack open a battery pack, grab the screwdriver, a tin pan and some safety goggles and explain the purpose of each. They want to ride their bike in the wide open space of the street? Grab your bike and play Shadow together, yelling “Car!” as needed. They want to climb on the roof? Pack a picnic and a blanket and see if you can count the stars together.
Don’t tell them what it’s like; show them how to safely enjoy it.
Knowledge and understanding are contagious. By your simply being there, taking care of the precautions and creating a winning environment, your kids will grow in their own understanding. They’ll ask questions (and have you present to answer them) and they’ll emulate your actions.
To quote Naomi Aldort, “You gave yourself the gifts of children. You have what you want. Take it.”
Be the parent who puts down the phone and picks up the baseball bat. Be the parent who gets excited to try something new and potential dangerous with their children.
Be the parent who realize the gift they have given themselves and do your part to create a world in which that gift can live and grow and thrive, free from fear, or pressure to perform and without the burden of remembering a million little things they simply can’t yet understand.
I'm Tara Wagner, life coach and creator of the Digging Deep process, where I coach women out of survival mode to recreate their lives and families.
Fantastic post. Not to be outdone of course, I have also disassembled a camera battery. I drilled a sheet rock screw into the joint of the battery until I was able to pry it open. I was not at all amused by what I found outside (we’ll keep it our secret for those who are now wondering just WHAT is in those stinkers). But beyond that you are so dead on with your ideas. My folks were not parents of the tongue but parents of the hand. I mean, even with discipline. hahahaha. But instead of just telling me something they would reinforce it with action and because of that I left their home seemingly knowing so much more than my peers and with a great excitement for what lay before me!
AWESOME, AWESOME post!
This was fucking golden, Tara.
Ummm … did you keep the batteries? Cause we can throw them in the burn pile. Told the Zebster we’ll try to light that sucker before you guys leave.
Dear battery, oh you did NOT tell me not to incinerate you …
@Jasie, “fucking golden” has got to be the best compliment I’ve ever received. :*)
@Christine, check your trash can. But won’t they explode?
I’m so glad you wrote this. It’s something that’s always on my mind. I’m very serious about my child’s safety, but I know that experiencing things for himself is part of the learning how to be safe process. (People are flipping out that I’ve started teaching him how to use knives…it’s for his own safety!)
yeah, what Jasie said!
This is so, so awesome!!! Really perfectly said all the way.
Ummm…you’re a rock star. Fantastic post!
And a new header to boot. nice work sister.
At this moment in time this was the perfect thing for me to read, thanks Tara!
Wonderful post!! I just love your blog all ’round. Great writing, and beautiful photography. Would more could I ask for?
It reminds me of all those “Do Not Remove” tags I ripped off over the years. I didn’t realize they only meant not to remove in the store. Still… like the effing rebel I am… I removed them! MUWAHAHAHAAH!
Nice post girly.
Oh and yeah… throw em in the fire. 
Brilliant post! Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts!
@Heather, I too get a big thrill out of removing those “do not remove” tags off everything I can! How rebellious…
Wonderful post, Tara. I will share on FB.
OK, did you take it apart? What happened???? Now I have to take one apart.
BTW, awesome post, I am sharing it with my husband right now.
I DID take it apart, but I hesitate to ruin the letdown….er, surprise.
GREAT POST SISTA!
I thought I’d be reading about your travels, but it is so much more: you’re a true writer with much to say. And those photos are so funny! I love a little humor tucked in with the thoughtfulness. Exquisite, as always.
Thank you. I will re-read to absorb more. I needed to hear this. Thank you.
This is an incredible post! It really solidifies some things I’ve been thinking about as of late. My little one is only eight months old (her name is Luna) but already I can see the way her mind works and how she wants to try things out for herself. Her mind is curious (as it should be!). I love the way she engages with the world and with the things around her, but I do agree that we need to encourage understanding and be safe at the same time. The tricky part is always the balancing part, isn’t it?
On another note, Tara, I’m excited to be reading about all your RV adventures. Yesterday, in fact, we had a ’77 Dodge Cobra RV given to us by my partner, Jeremy’s, mother’s neighbor. She just didn’t want it. I have pictures of it on my blog if you’d like to check it out. We are going to live in it for several months, or at least until we get our yurt build on some property we’re going to buy in Murphy, NC. We’re very, very excited about all of this. Anyway, I can tell already that I’ll be coming by your blog often
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Brilliant!
this is one of the most awesome posts I’ve read. ever. And encapsulates in a nutshell everything i’ve been reading recently (Aldort and Playful Parenting chief amongst them, thanks to your recommendation). I’ve always tried to not fuss and let them do, and be, rather than telling them all the time, but I’m really sensing a shift in myself towards a more mindful way of parenting, towards letting go more and saying yes more. In no small part this is thanks to your posts and writing and seeing the way you live your life – it sounds a bit (lot) cheesy, but you really are such an inspiration. And the way you write makes it real and authentic and relatable in a way that a million books, no matter how good, just can’t seem to do.
PS Loved those photos, they are ace!
every word you said hits home, rings true. I love coming here to be reminded of these things. And those pictures! hysterical.
Was introduced to your blog recently and I am loving it!
I read this post and then sat down with my current library book, “Unconditional Parenting”, and my bookmark opened up to these lines, “People aren’t passive receptacles into which knowledge is poured. We understand ideas by actively making sense of them from the inside out.” I love when the universe does its damnedest to make sure we get the point.
Thanks for sharing your experiences…I know it is helping me to have the confidence to keep swimming against the current.
Wow…girl, I needed this today.
So awesome!! As always your posts encourage me greatly!!
I just love those fotos of you!
Great point!
I let my daughter up on the roof. She likes to read up there.
http://wisdomofthemoon.blogspot.com/2009/04/reading-habits-of-homeschooled-kid.html
this is an excellent post! i am nodding while reading and recalling my own learning experiences and how i was most reluctant when forced to “understand” something vs. figuring it out on my own, when it was most meaningful. i totally love your blog!