Navigating the Deep End: The Lifeguard Approach to Parenting

My parents have taken a liberal approach to raising my brother and me. My dad compares his role as a parent to a lifeguard. We are free to try our hand at backflips, cannonballs, and belly flops, but if we ever need a break, the poolside is there for refuge. As a result of this liberty, there have been instances in which my brother and I have broken bones, gotten lost, stepped barefoot on bees, or been stuck in awkward conversations with neighbors we don’t know. The freedom to get ourselves into these sticky situations (and get ourselves out, for that matter) has been integral in developing an independent sense of judgement. Nothing too catastrophic has happened (yet), and I have learned to trust my gut, so I doubt anything ever will. 

I am often surprised by how much stricter other parents are. Growing up, my neighborhood friend and I would spend entire afternoons at the nearby park and creek, building fairy houses and playing silly roles, until the sun went down and the mosquitoes came out, at which point it was time to part ways. These excursions, to me, were as ordinary as lunch. That is, until my neighbor would ask me to keep the adventure a secret--“tell your mom to tell my mom we were in your front yard,” she would say. I realize now that this “helicopter” parenting style was not too unusual, but the attitude has certainly accelerated. This shift is especially obvious when I ask my parents about their upbringing. 

My mom explains that her after school routine was as follows: snack, hop on bike, run into neighborhood kids, probably engage in a wrestling match. I actually remember my own childhood similarly. I spent a lot of time outside, often barefoot, leaves adorning my ponytail. But I was lucky enough to be a young kid just before the internet’s complete hijack of daily life. Sure, everyone had a phone, and it was common to see people combining their daily exercise with business calls via earbuds. Now, however, I see kids in strollers, eyes enamored with an iPad, which is dinging and pinging for the whole park’s enjoyment. 

Easy access to the internet begs parents to reassess their allowance of freedom. I take my stand for the freedom to play; being outside, among bugs and poison ivy and trees, is undeniably supportive of creativity and independence. Modern technology is a whole different world--it poses many more hazards than the neighborhood park. An environment in which anyone can become famous, make money, and have access to billions by means of a few mindless clicks, is immeasurably menacing to a young, impressionable brain. Not only does the internet take “stranger danger” to bounds unheard of, but it is also a depressingly speedy way to kill an imagination. 

Without a screen as my default escape from boredom, I learned how to entertain myself. Dry leaves, sticks, and maybe some glue was sufficient to keep me occupied for hours, and it was empowering to be so self-sufficient. I have my parents and their hands-off approach to thank for this skill. I am grateful that during my early childhood years, it was not yet a common parenting technique to plop a screen in a child’s restless hands. Technology is like a delicious sweet: although it might be a quick fix for a sobbing four-year-old, it is ultimately harmful to well-being. Modern parents are burdened with a difficult task: They must find a balance between encouraging kids to play and explore, while carefully monitoring access to the intimidating world online. They are, after all, raising our future inventors, scientists, and politicians. No pressure.