I love our kids. I mean, obviously, I love my kid. I only have one and, being unashamedly biased, I believe her to be the greatest human to walk the earth. Especially when she folds the laundry.
But in a more collective way, I love our kids – the kids we are all raising. Despite all reports that they’re entitled and apathetic, I only see kids who are motivated to make a difference and
are often really creative about it.
And thank goodness, because when it comes to them inheriting the earth, they’re getting a bum
deal. It’s like a long-lost great aunt leaving you her car in her will, and discovering it’s a rattly 1989 Mitsubishi Sigma. Except you can’t drive the planet across the Nullarbor on the road trip of a lifetime, then leave it in Perth to cut your losses. Our kids are stuck fixing this thing. I feel
sad and ashamed about that.
Innovation and technology move so fast, in one week children can be bombarded with more new and remarkable things and experiences than I would have had in my entire childhood.Credit:iStock
And I think we’ve done our kids another disservice. I’ve noticed that they lack something I really miss – wonder. That glorious feeling of amazement, curiosity and awe, verging on disbelief, at what is before you. And it’s not their fault.
I first noticed this when my husband, a scientist and naturally interested person, dragged our 11-year-old out to our newly installed solar power panel, to show her the wonder that is harnessing the sun to power our house. Geez, the poor bloke tried. He approached it from all angles. The science, the conservation, the fun and interactive app, making it as relatable to her life as possible: “So the energy from the sun is literally charging your iPad!”