Quantum Physics for Babies. Some find it hard to believe. But it is indeed a real book, and other books which introduce abstract scientific concepts to young minds have followed. It’s a quirky idea and I’ve told the story about how it all came about before. And people do love the quirkiness, but the honeymoon is short and sobering questions are soon to arise, like, “Isn’t this a bit much—do we really need another thing to teach children?”
Fear and uncertainty about the daunting task of teaching children about science and mathematics comes to the forefront and then it hits, shot straight from the hip, “Let kids be kids.” You hear that a lot. In fact, it’s said in so many contexts that it’s lost any meaning it might have had, but I think the gist is this: whether guided by gut instinct or scientific research people know the value of play in childhood—but their idea of education as an activity is the exact opposite of play.
I believe this is the wrong way to interpret education. The formal education system that you and I grew up with has existed more-or-less unchanged for several decades. It chops up knowledge into components which are introduced in a linear fashion. Sometimes the paths fork and the major branches are called “careers”. For a time, the system worked quite well—but that time is passed.
This is understandably a source of stress for parents. The education system was supposed to be the rock. Of course we don’t know everything, and so we send the kids to school, which has experts on all topics to fill those gaps. But technology is becoming more and more ingrained into society and everyday life. The problem is that technology is changing so fast that it is nearly impossible to keep up. The idea of having a single career has gone out the window.
This leaves us questioning the role, even the identity, of education. My view is simple: life is education. Maintain that childhood curiosity and drive to ask questions, and whatever you call education will come for free. Besides the obvious things—survival, independence, morality—what is the mark of successful parent? Even ignoring the fact that it is an immense privilege to entertain such a question, this is dangerous territory. But I’ll risk an answer: the goal of parenting is the help your child find their passion, which is that thing that fuels their curiosity.
Are you happy? If so, it’s probably because you do something that you love, at least as a hobby. I’m very lucky in that people pay me to do the things I love. Wouldn’t it be great if I could arrange for that situation to be a little bit more likely for my own children?
So how am I going on helping my children find their passion? I don’t really know. I guess I won’t find out for some time. But here is one step I think can go a long way: variety. Not necessarily for them, but for you. If there is something you avoid, they will never experience it.
I can’t think of any interest my children might have that scares me. But many parents I talk to find mathematics and science scary. Whether it is intentional or not, they steer them away from these topics. The situation is so bad that we discuss when is too young to introduce science to children. Science is just a formalized way of exploring our natural curiosity. You don’t introduce it; you reintroduce it—and only because you’ve taken it away.
Books about mathematics and science for young children are not educational tools for the children. They are reminders for the parents that this is not something to fear. This is something that people derive a lot of passion from. And, if some day your child sees some science topic that interests her, she won’t be afraid of it, because you are not afraid of it.
So, don’t feel you need to read Quantum Physics for Babies because you need to keep up with the
Zuckerbergs Joneses. Read it because it’s something you wouldn’t otherwise be exposed to. Read it because you might be curious about the topic. Read it because you had a really cool friend that gifted it to you. Read it because it’s fun. And, if it only leaves you with more questions, good—ask away.
This post originally appeared on the Early Learning Review.