If you cut a worm in half, which end grows back? Do both ends grow? Or does the worm simply die? Will the answer change depending on the type of worm? And speaking of worms, why do they congregate on sidewalks and driveways after a hard rain? I understand their holes fill with water, but what is it about concrete that attracts them? Where do hummingbirds find the stamina to migrate thousands of miles twice a year? How do microprocessors work? And why did Walt Disney say, "It all started with a Mouse," when his first successful project was a rabbit named Oswald?
The content of these questions is not the point. The point is the questions themselves. Are you still asking them? And if you are still asking questions, are you taking the time to find the answers?
I guess that's something kids have over grown-ups--they ask lots of questions. To them, the world is still filled with wonder and amazement. Now, I realize a child's curiosity can grow old, especially when little Joey is working on on his fiftieth sentence in a given day that begins with the word "why."
But those questions are important because they're the building blocks of growth. They help us grow as individuals and they help us grow as a community. Far too often we stop asking questions. And then what happens? Well, we settle into the routines of our lives and forget how much fun it is to explore and learn.
The great thinkers of our time carried their questions across the threshold from kid to grown-up. They kept asking away, and all of us are better off for it. For instance, where would we be if Thomas Edison hadn't wondered how to master electricity or if Martin Luther King hadn't questioned the sense of a free country that discriminates on the basis of skin color or if Bill Gates hadn't explored the interactions between people and computers.
Okay, so you and I will not live up to the likes of these men. But who says our children won't? Well, you for starters. Because if you don't encourage their questions and teach them to hunt down the answers, they might follow in our footsteps and stop asking them.
And don't tell me you're leaving this up to the school system. After all, where did that system get you and me?
So start asking questions again. Let your children see you asking. Encourage them to ask. Then Google and Wikipedia yourselves into a frenzy. See how much fun it can be to learn again. You won't find a short supply of material. Simply look around the room and see what you come up with.
I did, and here's what I found: My computer speakers hiss and crackle just before my cell phone rings. Why? The telephone on my desk has an old rotary dial. How did that contraption work? And I just went through my email inbox before I began writing this essay, and it's already filled with spam again. Where did it come from? Okay, so maybe some questions have no answers.
Once you've identified your question, hunt down the explanation. It's an easy thing to do--thanks to the good boys up at the Google-Plex. The problem is finding the time. Find it! Share it with your kids. Teach them to find the answers to their questions.
They might not grow up to be a Thomas Edison or a Martin Luther King or a Bill Gates. Then again, maybe they will. Maybe they'll do something greater. It all starts with you. Are you a parent who's up to the task? I hope so. Our country hopes so. The world hopes so. Please, don't let us down.
Mike is the author of Pediascribe: A Collection of Thoughts From an American Pediatrician and the host of Pediacast: A Pediatric Podcast For Parents. You can find both at pediascribe.com
COPYRIGHT 2006 MIKE PATRICK JR
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