“I’m Bored”

Children’s statements of boredom often sound like a “right”: “I’m bored; I shouldn’t have to do this homework.” “I’m so bored, I don’t want to ride in the car.”

The best way for adults to respond to children’s statements of boredom is neutrally. Rather than giving suggestions to extinguish boredom, try offering empathy. "I know how you feel, but I see you’re handling it.”

“I hear that you’re not feeling interested in this activity, and that’s hard. I wonder how you’ll handle getting through it.” We want the expectation to be clear: boredom doesn’t excuse us from responsibility.

Saying “I’m bored” can be a way of stating a little superiority or new growth. It implies that the external world isn’t up to the stimulation level we need. Indeed, boredom occurs in children and adults when our energy level is high. Sometimes after watching TV or playing a video game, children are at loose ends, and saying they’re bored can be opportunity to involve them in chores and other ways they can be helpful, like sweeping the patio or reorganizing their books.

Often boredom does signal growth. When a child grows out of an interest, there’s a period of void or boredom when she has to find engagement on a new level. Adolescents, with their rapid growth, enter periods of boredom as they disconnect from interests that consumed them at an earlier age. Again empathy helps move children forward. “I understand you aren’t as interested in acrobatics as you used to be. I can’t wait to see what your new passion might be.”

The only inappropriate use of the word boring is stating that someone else is boring, a putdown that needs to be redirected because of potentially hurt feelings.

We show children how to handle boredom creatively through our own example. When you’re feeling at loose ends, tell your child, “I’m feeling kind of bored from working on my taxes for so long. I think I’ll go outside and garden and come back to focusing on all those numbers.”

Connecting with the World Around Us

“Feel the rain on your skin, no one else can feel it for you.”

– Lyrics from the song “Unwritten” by Natasha Bedingfield

“Do you make children stay inside when it rains?” a father asked while touring the school recently. “My child’s school won’t let kids out even when it’s just drizzling.” This dad wants his child’s educational journey to include a full relationship with the outdoors.

I understand his vision because it is echoed in countless comments from our alumni, who consistently use the word “magical” to describe their adventures in the various terrains of our school—the hillside beside the playground, the big field above, the gardens, the trails. These outpourings from former students, all so similar, don’t surprise us, as our school has always had the goal of linking children with the natural world and nurturing their sense of wonder and discovery, a capacity that seems an even higher priority for children today.

Our current students may grow up to enter jobs and develop skills that haven’t been created yet. Their abilities to be sensitive and appreciative observers of the world around them will help them to thrive and contribute.

Here some ways to reawaken your capacity for awe and explore nature with your child:

Have nature scavenger hunts—create lists of things to find—a shiny object, one with spirals, a leaf with a wonderful fragrance when it crumbles, three kinds of flowers, animal tracks.

Encourage collections of beautiful objects—feathers, rocks, shells.

Provide tools—magnifying glasses, binoculars, bug catchers, measuring tape, clipboards with paper, and art supplies for drawing.

Keep nature journals—notice and note interesting observations in nature, changes in a habitat.

Take photos of beautiful objects.

Encourage imaginary play outside—put out props, costumes, play accessories.

Most people agree that spending time outdoors is important, but what makes the experience magical is the feeling of timelessness when we pause everything just to enjoy the feeling of rain or wind on our face, the color of the sunset, or the sight of a deer. Whether we stop to sense, smell, observe, magnify, draw, photograph, or simply touch and examine a piece of the natural world, the real wonder is the feeling of unity that comes with it.

Celebrating Founders Day

Sunday was Founders Day, when we observe the founding of the school and the shared birthday of its founders, Ivy O. Duce and Meher Baba. We celebrated the occasion on Friday. Elementary students saw the premiere of a short video about Mrs. Duce, A Legacy of Love, produced by fifth grade teacher Terry Johnson.

The Liedstrand family band delighted us all with their spirited fiddle tunes, as they have almost every Founders Day since 1986. First they played in the preschool yards, then on the stage on the playground. From right to left in the photo above are Cindy Liedstrand (guitar), her husband, Harry (fiddle), and Anton Allen (mandolin and penny whistle). The woman in the orange vest is Ellen Evans, who was our principal for the first 41 years. (We turned 49 on Sunday.)

And then there were the cookies—all 434 of them!—that we served to students and staff as a Founders Day treat. The gluten-free sugar cookies were baked by Bonnie Forman, a baker and the mother of two of our alumni, and frosted on both sides(!), decorated with candy flowers, and individually wrapped by Special Projects Coordinator Sue Tacker and a team of parent volunteers and friends of the school. (They even made the flowers!) How did they taste? Ask this girl.