We Need to Raise Less Careful Children
March 13, 2025“If one is generously contracted 80 years, that amounts to 29,220 days on Earth. Playing that out, how many more times then, really, do I get to look at a tree? 12,395? There has to be an exact number. Let’s just say it is 12,395. Absolutely, that is a lot, but it is not infinite, and anything less than infinite seems too measly a number and is not satisfactory. Also, I would like to stare at my kids a few million more times. I could stare at them a few million more times easy.”
- Amy Krause Rosenthal, Textbook Amy Krause Rosenthal
As an outdoor educator working with 5th and 6th graders it is not uncommon to see the kids I’m entrusted with running through rocky terrain, lifting large logs to build rickety shelters, reaching into the water to pick up snakes and crawdads, and many other actions that would have many adults calling out “Please be careful!!!” “Please be careful”, is a phrase that I have almost removed entirely from my vocabulary as a teacher. In fact, I’m often the one encouraging “treacherous” behavior by showing kids which trees are best for jumping on like they are on a trampoline or telling kids they should crawl under the dock to pull out and then proceed to smell the dead salmon (we don’t use our sniffers enough).
Amidst my fellow instructors, I’m often the instructor granting more freedom to the students to explore than some think is appropriate or best fitting their management style. And yes, I know there are risks involved in this style of teaching, but in all my time running my lessons like this the kids have only had small scrapes, splinters, and the occasional bonked head. More often than not, the biggest things I have to be ready to take care of are hurt feelings and interpersonal disputes between the kids. Something my Wilderness First Responder course taught me nothing of how to solve and, honestly, is usually best left to the kids to solve and adults to simply mediate.
So if I’m not telling these kids to be careful, what exactly am I telling them before they go explore? Well after setting the guidelines around the activity, which is primarily how much time we have, I ask them to “Please be aware of your actions and your surroundings,” something that is built into the very core of the inquiry-based education system utilized by the Outdoor Programs I work with.
“I notice…” “I wonder…” and “This reminds me of…” are the thought-starting foundation of everything me and my fellow instructors teach. When we walk around the forest or paddle around on canoes together I’m prompting and listening to the kids make observations of the various colors of wildlife they see, how the marsh smells worse than their cabins, and tell stories of how one time their family went on a hike very similar to this one but now they are able to jump in the mud making that funny fart sound over and over again. I see kids picking up rocks to throw across the lake or at a tree, curious if they can land it in a hole or just because they want to see if it will break. One time a large rock did break and exposed a fractured inner line pattern of rock bands that wouldn’t have been visible otherwise and we got to share it with others groups around us. The goal is to have kids build observational skills through intentional use of their senses so they can use what they have observed to make conclusions about what they saw and act based on those conclusions … which is not always correct, sometimes hilariously so.
Once while running a soil activity where we were digging holes, noticing differences in the different soil layers, a kid came up behind me and dragged their handful of mud in a big line straight down my spine. Surprised, I turned around, wide-eyed to see her giggling delight. Chuckling, I calmly asked, “Why’d you do that?” To which in between giggles and trying to catch their breath she responded, “Well I saw the rest of your clothes were dirty so I thought you wouldn’t mind!” The logic, while conclusive, was not quite accurate. But being wrong is another step that leads us to the next question on the path to understating as now we have more questions to pursue.
I feel best about a day of teaching when I have asked more questions than the answers I have given. Even when kids come up to me professing, “I need help!!”, I’ll respond, “What specifically do you need help with?” or “What do you notice about this problem?” This approach is counter-intuitive for most because we want to share the information we have learned with others. We want to solve this problem that we have seen 30 times this week immediately. Asking kids to make observations and be specific elongates the amount of time needed to solve the problem but it’s something that makes the kids think about what they actually need from me. Often they realize they didn’t need my help, they just wanted me to carry the big log for them.
I’m not in the profession of doing things for them. I will walk alongside them, but I want these kids to discover their proposed solutions and answers for themselves; to feel that same excitement I know radiates through us when we first find out a new piece of knowledge. For in the short 4 days I get to work with them I am not a “sage on the stage” but a “guide on the side” of their quest of life, hopefully if all goes well, this is the beginning of a pattern of self-reflection that lets kids build consideration for themselves and the world around them. This connection was first made clear to me while listening to a conversation between Simon Sinek and Trevor Noah. This clip will start at the time and I recommend listening for about 2 minutes.
I encourage listening to the whole talk if you found this part interesting, as there is so much more wisdom they dispense. For now, though, I want to share some stories of how awareness has led to the kids I work with expanding their circle of consideration, and how the benefits that show up for ourselves and for others.
It was the middle of October about halfway through the week and I was taking the kids out on the canoes during their water lesson. In our little safety talk before we set sail, we discussed how cold water and cold weather are the prime recipe for hypothermia and other cold related ailments. Naturally, I was told by this group of kids wearing cotton sweatshirts and shorts, that, “It’s not THAT cold! The water is warm! Can we go swimming???”, remarks and outfits that far too closely resembled me in middle school.
The air temperature was hovering around 40 degrees in the sun and the lake was a balmy 50 degrees. A general guideline I use for my decision of swimming is if the air and water temperatures added together don’t go above 100, I’m not going IN the water without proper gear. Besides, the section where we canoe is not deeper than what a kid can stand in and we wear Personal Flotation Devices, taking all safety precautions. A fellow instructor even mentioned that, unlike in the summer, this was not ideally the best time to splash each other.
After the talk we set off and had a great time exploring the marsh from the boats, seeing herons, some spawning salmon, and just enjoying the time of being on the boats in the sunshine. Paddling the canoes is a great way to warm up in contrast to being under the canopy of trees. Eventually, I was even beginning to feel a little warm. That’s when I looked over and saw one kid take his paddle and make a big movement causing water to splash up on him and his fellow boat mates. At first I thought this might cause some hurt feelings but, as children continue to surprise me, what actually ensued was a lively game of who could get the most wet. Hands were used to cup water to go down each other’s backs and paddles launched water like artillery waves. By the time I was able to get close in my kayak, each kid was laughing and smiling at what had just occurred. I asked them “How was your water fight?”, to which I got a lot of positive responses and smiling faces.
That was for the next 30 seconds.
A cloud rolled in, covering the sun and uncovering the realization that now they were soaking wet in the cold air. The smiles on their faces were beginning to drain out of their boat of joy. “I’m cold. Can I go back inside…?” they started asking me with the first hints of a shiver. Then one kid looked up at me and said, with a bit of somber realization in his voice, “There’s mud on my favorite hoodie…” I gave a little nod of acknowledgment and looked at them saying, “Those sure are some natural consequences of your actions, huh? What can we do to fix that?”
The next 10 minutes were a frigid paddle back to shore and a squishy walk back to their cabins so all could be warmed up and get dry clothes.
Later after lunch I got to talk with these kids and quickly debriefed the situation with them asking them about their experience in the water lesson. The responses varied. One kid said he wishes he would’ve brought more shoes so he could have dry shoes that fit him for the upcoming recreation time. One wished he could go back and do it again and again because it was exciting getting soaking wet. One wished he wasn’t wearing his favorite hoodie, as now he wouldn’t be able to wear it for the rest of the day. After they shared their experiences, I asked if they would do anything differently. They all mentioned how it would’ve been nice if they had waterproof jackets and pants so they could splash and not worry about getting cold and wet. I agreed that would be fun.
Then I asked them if they were aware how the activity changed for the other kids after their splash party. None of them had any idea. They were unaware that we had to cut canoe time short and that I then had to direct my attention to them to ensure they were safe. “Oh… I didn’t think about that.” They all mumbled softly. “Are we in trouble???” Another phrase I hate to hear.
I assured them they were not in trouble. There was no punishment to be given. Just some lessons to be discussed.
How just like when we are exploring the forest and marsh with an awareness of our actions so that we can be considerate of the natural ecosystem around us, so too must we be aware of our actions’ effects on our community, whether that community is ourselves, those in our canoe, or those in our lesson group.
Some may ask why kids can’t just foresee the problems that may come as a product of their actions, but anyone that’s taught kids, or even just been around them, knows that even the most well planned lesson can’t foresee every new experience that kids will throw at it. And this is where as educators, parents, and adults we must walk with them through the mess without anger or frustration. We know learning by doing is best, as we actually experience first hand and become intimately aware of the effects of our actions. It’s why we only touch the hot stove once, or only lick a frozen light pole once (and speaking from personal experience it’s just how the movies portray it). When we experience something, ask questions, and reflect, begin to notice the signs that may show us if we are on the track we want to be on, or if we want to change our course of action.
In many ways it’s like climbing a tree, something I did lots of growing up. With each branch we climb we are moving further off the ground, gauging if the next branch will hold our weight, wondering if we still remember our way down, and remembering that to the dismay of our guardians we are increasing our risk of injury if we were to fall. I bet if I were to ask my parents, many times I pushed the limit of what they may have felt was comfortable, but I’ll always cherish that I was never told to “Get down from there!”. Well unless it was dinner time, then mom wasn’t waiting for us. But if there was no food on the table and I was found high in the branches of the newly blooming tree, through the wind my dad’s voice could be heard cutting through saying “Don’t break my tree!”. Thanks mom and dad for the trust to continue climbing, even if I many times did break your tree.
Did the lessons we discussed that day stick with those boys? That’s something I wonder about and may never know the full answer to. Yet, I believe we have set the framework for them to begin their journey, and I know there is one girl that I know took these ideas to heart.
At the end of every week we gather in the final moments and ask the kids to share some of their favorite moments from the week. Often we get tales of going canoeing for the first time or seeing an owl up close. We hear of the pranks that were pulled as they stayed up late in the cabins with their friends, or how they loved building shelters so much they wanted to build a bigger one at home. But one time a young girl stood up and addressed all of her classmates saying, “My favorite thing from camp is seeing how we’ve all played together and made new friends. How people that normally don’t like each other at school have helped each other. I feel that here nobody is stupid or uncool, we’re just kids. And I’m worried that when we go back to school we are going to go back to our old ways. We’re gonna make fun of each other and fight, no longer caring for each other like we have this week. I hope that doesn’t happen. I wish this could be what school is like.”
The staff was jaw-dropped and teary-eyed. She had noticed how there was a discrepancy in the way her classmates all treated each other between when they were at school and at our camp, and then she had the courage to address her whole class about it. She had wondered about what will change when they return to normal school, and while she doesn’t have the answers to how to get the change to stick, I know she will be able to recall these memories in her future days to be the model of the change she wishes to see.
She was an embodiment of the two things we hope kids walk away from our program with: a positive outdoor experience, and a feeling of belonging. Two things that I strongly believe are rooted in building awareness. Awareness of the simple delights around us and of each living being’s complex nature.
There’s a story by John Green in his book The Anthropocene Reviewed I often read to the kids during our gatherings. I shared a quote from it in previous writings and it is just as relevant to this one, so here’s the full story:
“Like, I remember when my son was about two, we were walking in the woods one November morning. We were along a ridge, looking down at a forest in the valley below, where a cold haze seemed to hug the forest floor. And I kept trying to get my oblivious two-year-old to appreciate this extraordinary landscape. At one point I picked him up and pointed out toward the horizon and said “Look at that, Henry, just look at it!” And he said, “Leaf!” I said, “What?” And again he said, “Leaf,” and then reached out and grabbed a single brown oak leaf from the little tree next to us.
I wanted to explain to him that you can see a brown oak leaf literally anywhere in the Eastern United States in November, that nothing in the forest was less interesting. But after watching him look at it, I began to look as well, and soon I realized it wasn’t just a brown leaf. Its veins spidered out red and orange and yellow in a pattern too complex for my brain to synthesize, and the more I looked at the leaf with Henry the more I knew I was face to face with something commensurate to my capacity for wonder.
The magnificence of that leaf astonished me, and I was reminded that aesthetic beauty is as much about how and whether you look as what you see. From the quark to the supernova, the wonders do not cease. It is our attentiveness that is in short supply, our ability and willingness to do the work that awe requires.”
Let me ask you this: In this fractured world are you willing to give up your most precious resource to marvel in the wonders of the natural world? To uncover the beauties of the people that we interact with on a day to day basis? Then when we see such art surrounding us, will you meet the needs that this beauty requires to continue flourishing?
As my favorite songwriter, Ryan O’Neil or Sleeping at Last wrote in his song “Saturn”: “How rare and beautiful it truly is that we exist ” And how rare and beautiful it is to exist in this world where we can be the love we so desperately wish to see in the world. It may just start with asking yourself what do I notice? What do I wonder about? What does this remind me of? I bet if you just take a moment to pause, breathe, and become aware of your surroundings, you will find more connection than you ever imagined.
