Curious and Kind

article by MEREDITH MCKINNIE

We want our children to be happy. It’s probably what parents want most for their children. But genuine happiness is tricky and rarely constant. Often happiness involves soul searching, enduring hardship, and coming to appreciate life’s simplicities. As a mother, I think about the laundry list of attributes I’m supposed to cultivate in my children. I want them to be humble, yet bold. Can they be both? I want them to find joy, even if the source makes me uncomfortable. I want them to know I’m in their corner, but that the corner is assuredly theirs to navigate. I need to stay out of their way most of all. So much of what I feel necessary contradicts something else. I stay confused most of the time.

If I had to pinpoint the two qualities I desire most for them, they would be curiosity and kindness, with the latter reigning supreme. We hear it all the time, “Be kind to one another.” It’s so simple, yet too often ignored. Kindness is rarely a dramatic gesture. Often, it’s tucked away in shy smiles, unexpected recognition, and minor daily sacrifice. I make sure my daughter sees me put the shopping cart in the corral. I compliment and thank her daddy in her presence. I haven’t been adamant about “please” and “thank you,” but somewhere along the way she picked it up and quotes the phrases unprompted. I am teaching her a respect for other people, trying to explain why whenever we hurt someone, regardless of intent, we must take accountability and consider other people’s feelings. Empathy is imperative in raising responsible citizens. I don’t shy away from suffering or shield her from others’ hurt. To understand it, she must see it. For one day, she too will feel it and perhaps remember.

Admittedly, kindness is not my strong suit. I practice kindness with strangers but can be hard on the people I love most. I guess this comes from expecting more out of loved ones than they may be capable of in that moment. I’m working on this. When a phone call brings out my rage, my daughter will often ask, “Why you mad, Mommy?” She picks up on my anger and often reacts similarly when frustrated. When she couldn’t get a doll’s shirt removed, she beat the doll against the toy box. When her little sister grabs a bite of her snack, she pushes her away instead of offering her another taste. I don’t want to raise a child who takes it out on other people or feels compelled to violently punish her beloved “friend” dolls. I am beginning to pause, sit down, and talk about her feelings. I want her response to be wrapped in kindness, and I can do more of this myself.

Curiosity comes more naturally to me. I read and receive constantly, even when the truth contradicts my internal bias. More information is always welcome, and I believe an evolution of thought is indicative of personal growth. When we know better, we do better. Sometimes instinct suggests too much information can confuse a child, but I don’t think so. My daughter’s favorite phrase is “Why?” And parents will insist the constant demand for explanation can be taxing. Sometimes she repeats the request after I’ve answered. That’s when I know my response was not sufficient. As a teacher, I know the importance of clarity. I should be clear with my own kids as well. I try to answer her questions honestly and completely, pretending no word is too big. My husband and I laugh when she repeats a word we’ve been saying recently; we high-five when it’s used in context. When she randomly commented yesterday, “You’re getting on my nerves!” we said in unison, “That’s YOUR child.” I remember mothers and fathers promising such exchanges would happen, but I didn’t know I’d enjoy them so much.

A professor friend of mine is raising a daughter. She’s fourteen, going on 35. He mentioned a moment of pride, when she asked if he had seen a certain NYTimes article that morning. He hadn’t seen it, but he beamed knowing his daughter had and that she thought he should. Regardless of the content, she was educating herself, in her free time, and felt comfortable enough to prompt discussion with her father. If we teach our kids to arm themselves with information, we can be more comfortable with the choices they make. At least their decisions are informed. We can’t just leave learning at school. We must practice education at home. And I’m not talking about homework as much as demonstrating and respecting knowledge. The more information we give them, the more they can see its value. And eventually, they will seek knowledge out for knowledge’s sake. Curiosity is the cornerstone of learning, and while we have their attention and know they’re watching us, we too should practice what we preach. It’s okay to say, “Honey, I don’t know…but let’s try and find out.”

My daughters are three and one, and I have a lot to learn myself. But I rest easy knowing that I don’t know it all but am not afraid to strive for better and change course when necessary. I hope to raise little girls who want to know more, continue asking “Why” and allow themselves and others kindness along the way.