Parenting Like a Dragon

Executive Director, Reed Harwood, is the father of an 8 and 11 year old boys. In 4-7 years they will be of age for a Dragons program, should they be interested. Interest aside, in this blog piece, Reed reflects on the challenges of parenting and how he can intentionally parent like a Dragons instructor, preparing and empowering his children to explore themselves and the world.

My son entered 6th grade this year. On the first day, the school invited parents for a meet and greet with the principal and some other key administrators. Parents crowded into the library, and it wasn’t for the donuts and coffee. The principal arrived, looked out over us, and said “Woooow. There’s a lot of you here!” I couldn’t tell by her tone if this was a good thing or a bad thing. My first reaction to the large attendance was, wow, we’re all a bunch of committed parents. Good for us. But after her ambiguous tone landed, I felt suddenly exposed, like a curtain had been pulled back. Sh*^… Am I a helicopter parent? No, it couldn’t be so. I’ve dedicated my entire professional life to experiential education, which is inherently committed to growth through challenge and independence. But here I was, on a Tuesday morning, in an over-parent-packed middle school library, caught red-handed… 

We have all heard the sound bites, and I can confirm them through my own direct experience of parenting: anxiety and loneliness are at an all time high, kids feel unsafe in spite of being safer than ever, parents are keeping their kids closer to home, and kids want to be closer to home. There is a beautiful and tender story here that, admittedly, I want to embrace. If my kids want to spend more time with me, longer into their life, I’m in. The idea of raising kids only to then leave me always felt a bit cruel, though I had certainly done it to my parents. For the parents and kids these days who want to stay closer to home together, that is hardly a “bad” thing, and we shouldn’t scapegoat that trend. And all parents want their kids to be resilient, gritty, in love with who they are, compassionate and kind to others, successful and purposeful. I feel a tension between these two desires: to hold my two boys, ages 8 and 11, close. I want to be in connection with them and experience the joy of being their father, while at the same time push them away, for their own benefit. I’m trying to thread that needle. 

I recently listened to the NYT’s Interview with Al Pacino, who shared his favorite quote by the famous circus performer Karl Wallenda: “Life is on the wire, and everything else is just waiting.” While I don’t want my kids to become daredevils, I do believe in the correlation between risk and reward, and in this case, risk for the sake of important growth that will help my kids live a good life. I wondered what experiences I had provided for my kids that resembled “the wire,” albeit with a safety net? I chuckled with the memory that arose:

I was in the airport with my boys. We had just finished eating. “Dad, can we meet you at the gate?” my 11 year old asked. I loved that he asked, and I reactively said “yes.” “Let’s Go!” he exclaimed, jumping out of his seat, and thumping his chest like an athlete after scoring. Oh No, what have I done? They don’t have phones, I don’t have any geo-tags hidden in their carry-ons, and it’s a big airport. But, they’re smart enough, they know the gate number, it’s not too far from here, and this is a growth opportunity, right? I was acutely aware of the absurd tension playing out at this moment. I knew the risk was low, and I was surprised that it still felt high. If I’m being honest, I trailed them. Hopping and hiding behind objects to remain concealed, I truly looked like an idiot. I wanted them to do this on their own, but it was just so hard to fully let go. When they saw me walk up to the gate, my eldest gave me a quick upward chin flick like “yeah, I knew I could do that”, and he wore a slight smile while trying to pretend it was nothing. My hope is that these little moments can build toward bigger moments, helping them to be their fullest and happiest future selves.

When I talk to parents these days, this is a familiar struggle. We know the antidote to anxiety and loneliness is self-efficacy and connection. The research is there for us to consume, and many of us do (see, for example, this NYT piece on Helicopter parenting). We know that fostering independence and interdependence will support the healthy development of our children. We know that the right challenge within the right community is always worth it. 

Fostering independence, through growth experiences and challenges, is the easier of the two. Though it’s tough to push my kids beyond what they think they can do – because sometimes it’s not worth their wrath of complaints, and sometimes it’s easier for me to get it done – I know it’s in their best interest.   

The more difficult antidote to loneliness and anxiety is fostering interdependence. In other words, connection. Kids these days need, and have always needed, meaningful connections to support them through life’s twists and turns, and connections are made through living and experiencing life together. The harder the experience, the more you need to rely on others, the deeper connection. It’s a feeling that is not governed by time or space. It can happen in a fleeting moment and yet time doesn’t guarantee it. A monk alone in a cave can feel it, and someone surrounded by people can feel utterly alone. It seems to be eluding many of us, all the time, though it is always within reach. 

At Dragons, we set the conditions for students to experience as much connection as possible. The Dragons experience is a bit like an inoculation: we introduce challenges with enough oversight and support to ensure students aren’t pushed beyond what they’re capable of. And they are capable of so much. It is through discomfort that students find comfort in themselves and the world. It is through fear that students find the courage to be who they are. It is through disconnecting from the familiar that students find renewed connection. Whether it be a moment with a homestay mother, or with a friend in the group, or with one of our mentors, connection is discovered around every corner and alleyway that we travel.

Fundamentally, Dragons is a community. Our primary purpose is to cultivate meaningful connections through responsible and immersive travel. Through travel, our students learn how to connect with their peers, with the diverse world around them, and ultimately with themselves. Connection is the key and common denominator. It empowers us all to feel at home, anywhere in the world. 

I’m trying to parent like a Dragons Instructor, and I find that it’s A LOT harder to do for my own kids, than it is for others. If you can relate, I invite you to send your child on a Dragons program so that they can feel more alive, confident, and empowered to navigate their future. My commitment to you is that 1) your child will be challenged in all the right ways, 2) they’ll forge friendships and connections with their peers and the inspiring people they meet along their travels, and 3) they’ll have good ‘ol fashion Fun B. If Fun A is a relaxing day at the beach with friends, Fun B is riding in the back of a pick-up truck on a bumpy muddy road in the Amazon, in a downpour, while singing real loud. Our hope is that this type of challenge (Fun B!) and connection will last your child a lifetime. It will live and grow within them over time, and it will always be available to them when they need it the most.

Interested in reading more? Check out these influential articles: Parent Stress; Helicopter Parenting; Loneliness Epidemic