crossing the bridge

I was walking with some children and their parents down a woods trail that crossed a stream in several places. The bridges were fairly narrow planks, one or two feet above the water. Parents have varying degrees of comfort with situations where children might fall or hurt themselves. I seem to find myself on the more relaxed end of the spectrum. I see a moderate amount of pain or discomfort as a powerful teacher for a child. I don’t like to interfere too much with the teacher unless her methods are really dangerous.

Since I was at the front of the line, my attitude seemed to set the standard for the children. One of the girls was rather timid about crossing. I watched her face to see how courageous she really wanted to be. (Here’s what I did not do: assume she wanted my help, assume she was scared, or declare there was no reason to be afraid.) I asked if she wanted to hold my hand. Another child said she didn’t need help, and I think this girl felt emboldened to say she didn’t either. So I went across myself. Then she stopped and looked worried, so I asked her again. This time she said she wanted a hand, so I returned without comment and gave her my hand to cross. Later she began walking near my hand but not holding it. By the end of the walk, we were all crossing the bridges very confidently.

Safety for a child means emotional safety. I could judge the safety of those bridges in a way that she couldn’t, but only she could judge the level of trust in her own balance and reflexes. I left her to be the judge of that and offered my services where she needed them. That way she could experiment a little with her own capability, instead of taking my word for it. Independence of spirit is very valuable for a child.