Vicki Rispoli is a mom of five with an obsession for connecting people to educational opportunities while exploring and supporting non-traditional approaches to learning.

January 5th, 2018

As parents of young children, we try our best to provide the optimal conditions for them to flourish. We are continually searching for the best opportunities for them to learn and thrive. We often fret about things we might forget to do and worry that one little omission will wreck irrevocable developmental damage (No music lessons by age 4? Doomed! Mandarin Chinese best by age 6—Oh no!). This type of madness was how my husband I began our early years of child rearing—rushing from activity to activity, planning outings and vacations around what we hoped would be everything they could possible need to develop into well-rounded, happy adults. However, as the following little story of a trip to Disney World illustrates, children have their very own internal drive to learn: they naturally seek out authentic experiences and, when given the time and freedom, they are far better at directing their own development than we parents could ever imagine.

Each year, as summer comes to a close, I usually take some time to sort through the gazillion photos I’ve taken over the past few months. Invariably, the kids walk by and catch a glimpse of a photo, displayed in its full digital glory on my laptop, and a discussion about “the best part of summer” ensues. Recently, as we reviewed our vacation pics, we noted a peculiarity about the album entitled, “Disney.” Conspicuously absent was the quintessential photo op next to Mickey Mouse and Cinderella (no sign of Goofy or Pooh Bear either). As I thought back as to how this could have possibly happened (after all, and in true Griswold fashion, we made the great American pilgrimage to Orlando so that our little ones could say, “Yes, I have been to Disney World!”), I reflected on our day at the Magic Kingdom.

We started early in the morning, park map in hand and fully determined to see each and every attraction. With the fortitude and tenacity of veteran parents, we dodged the multitude of strollers, weaving with finesse through the thousands of other well-meaning parents with equally grandiose plans. As we forged on, a moment of panic struck as Erika, our youngest child, suddenly slipped from my periphery. I turned to find her several feet behind, crouched down, staring intently at something on the ground, oblivious to the hoards of people passing by. I watched as she grabbed a handful of the $7 popcorn we had just purchased and threw it to the small group of chickadees that had alighted near the neatly landscaped tree. I called to her and she responded, “Shh!, they’re eating! Look! They’re so pretty!” Erika’s older brother and sister, Ben and Beth, soon joined in on the impromptu bird observation and after nearly half an hour (by which time the lines for all the popular rides now stretched to Ft. Lauderdale), they came away, utterly delighted by the encounter.

As we passed all the Disney-contrived hoopla, our kids seemed mildly impressed at best. As the crowds grew and the temperatures soared, patience for such “fun” quickly elapsed. Without a single sighting of any one of the costumed characters, we decided unanimously to head back to the hotel to relax. This plan was especially embraced by Ben and Erika who had previously discovered giant grasshoppers and “baby frogs” in the lush green areas near the hotel pool. As we rode the shuttle back, I glanced at my husband who, without a single word, mirrored my feelings, “All that money for the tickets and what they really liked was feeding the birds!”

Later that evening, I asked Erika how she could have possibly been so enchanted by a bunch of common birds eating popcorn. She replied simply, “Because, Mama, I like things that are REAL!”

Vicki Rispoli is a mom of five with an obsession for connecting people to educational opportunities while exploring and supporting non-traditional approaches to learning.