A Manner of Speaking by Bonnie Neugebauer
96 A MANNER OF SPEAKING EXCHANGE SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER 2014
A Manner of Speaking
www.ChildCareExchange.com
Copyright © Exchange Press, Inc. Reprinted with permission from Exchange magazine. All rights reserved. Visit us at www.ChildCareExchange.com or call (800) 221-2864.
by Bonnie Neugebauer
It wouldn’t budge. As hard as I pushed, the log just sat there; and I fell over laughing at how impossible a simple challenge had turned out to be. We were setting the stage for our beach cookout — crunchy blackened s’mores, sandy hot dogs, smoke in our eyes, and such deep pleasure at being with special people in a favorite place and watching the sun go down. Leaning against logs is the preferred seating, so we were creating our space when I noticed a twisted piece of rebar piercing the closest log to the fire pit. I imagined all sorts of potential injuries and wondered about solutions. Fifty yards away there was a scattering of washed up logs. Well, I’ll just roll one of those big old logs over here and create a barrier, I thought. And so began my thwarted attempt to solve the problem alone. My laughter caught the attention of my grandchildren: Zachary – 7, Schon – 6, Jonah – 4.5, and Caroline – 4, so I Photograph by Alison Beanblossom called them over to help. Zachary ran over first and together we pushed and pushed. Nothing. Then Schon. Still nothing. Then Jonah. But it wasn’t until Caroline joined in and all five of us strained as hard as we could that the log began to roll. Our success motivated us, so we pushed and it rolled and great progress was made. Then we realized that in order to block the hazard of the rebar, we needed to change the angle of the log 90 degrees. Zachary and Schon knew what to do and moved their position on the log so that the force of our pushing at one end changed the direction of the log’s roll. We used our last bit of power to lock it into position. Hazard avoided! Challenge accomplished! We were proud. I think I might have been the proudest, that all of us had made something impossible happen. Honestly, I didn’t think that the strength of children would make the impossible possible. I called them over to help imagining that together we would roll in the sand laughing at how hard we could try to move the log without success. I underestimated children — these children — and teamwork. It’s easy to do. And we can certainly live our lives oblivious to the power of children’s ideas and the joy of working with them, but what loss: so many ideas not shared, inspirations undeveloped, pleasures unlived, and challenges unresolved. Children see things we don’t notice. They know things we don’t know or have forgotten. They don’t have such long lists of what they are not able to do, so they doubt themselves less. They can change us and our lives if we let them, if we let ourselves really be with them. With our brains and our bodies, being together with children, each of us every day can make impossible, delightful, powerful things happen — like moving a knobby old log into place and roasting a marshmallow or two.
A Manner of Speaking
www.ChildCareExchange.com
Copyright © Exchange Press, Inc. Reprinted with permission from Exchange magazine. All rights reserved. Visit us at www.ChildCareExchange.com or call (800) 221-2864.
by Bonnie Neugebauer
It wouldn’t budge. As hard as I pushed, the log just sat there; and I fell over laughing at how impossible a simple challenge had turned out to be. We were setting the stage for our beach cookout — crunchy blackened s’mores, sandy hot dogs, smoke in our eyes, and such deep pleasure at being with special people in a favorite place and watching the sun go down. Leaning against logs is the preferred seating, so we were creating our space when I noticed a twisted piece of rebar piercing the closest log to the fire pit. I imagined all sorts of potential injuries and wondered about solutions. Fifty yards away there was a scattering of washed up logs. Well, I’ll just roll one of those big old logs over here and create a barrier, I thought. And so began my thwarted attempt to solve the problem alone. My laughter caught the attention of my grandchildren: Zachary – 7, Schon – 6, Jonah – 4.5, and Caroline – 4, so I Photograph by Alison Beanblossom called them over to help. Zachary ran over first and together we pushed and pushed. Nothing. Then Schon. Still nothing. Then Jonah. But it wasn’t until Caroline joined in and all five of us strained as hard as we could that the log began to roll. Our success motivated us, so we pushed and it rolled and great progress was made. Then we realized that in order to block the hazard of the rebar, we needed to change the angle of the log 90 degrees. Zachary and Schon knew what to do and moved their position on the log so that the force of our pushing at one end changed the direction of the log’s roll. We used our last bit of power to lock it into position. Hazard avoided! Challenge accomplished! We were proud. I think I might have been the proudest, that all of us had made something impossible happen. Honestly, I didn’t think that the strength of children would make the impossible possible. I called them over to help imagining that together we would roll in the sand laughing at how hard we could try to move the log without success. I underestimated children — these children — and teamwork. It’s easy to do. And we can certainly live our lives oblivious to the power of children’s ideas and the joy of working with them, but what loss: so many ideas not shared, inspirations undeveloped, pleasures unlived, and challenges unresolved. Children see things we don’t notice. They know things we don’t know or have forgotten. They don’t have such long lists of what they are not able to do, so they doubt themselves less. They can change us and our lives if we let them, if we let ourselves really be with them. With our brains and our bodies, being together with children, each of us every day can make impossible, delightful, powerful things happen — like moving a knobby old log into place and roasting a marshmallow or two.
