What is it about life that allows some people to be creative and not others? Or, more specifically, some people
interested in being creative and others not.
In thinking about this, I decided to examine my past all the way back to the log cabin and realized:
I loved maps; listening to faraway baseball games on my transistor radio (nothing like a crackling Ernie Harwell); the book series on space exploration at my grandparents’ house; my copy of Richard Halliburton’s Complete Book of Marvels (from 1941, so much so that I bought the book on eBay a few years back); my first almanac in 1970; the private pilot manual I bought when I was 12; the chemistry set my parents bought me in the early 70s (the first thing I did was go into the back yard and just mix EVERYTHING together. I lived); zip codes; the dud Comet Kohoutek; baseball stats, including the ones I invented; Winnipeg, Manitoba; and the Senate Watergate hearings as a 13-year-old.
What does this say, other than affirm what my kids think – I was a bit of a nerd growing up? It said I had – and still have – an insatiable curiosity about the world. I had to know. And still do. (Before you label me, I also played baseball, basketball, football and ice hockey).
If a strong aspect of creativity is the ability to
connect the unconnectable and
link the unlinkable, doesn’t it make sense to fill a kid’s mind with as stuff as possible? The more stuff, the more links. The stuff commonly known as useless information – that suddenly becomes useful.
So, I say to parents: let the kids watch cartoons. Let them explore. Let them ask. (Please!!) Let them read … anything. I’m not saying create a nerd; I asking that you raise kids that are curious about what’s down the block, around the corner, in the next town and in the nearest galaxy. It's okay to mix in video games -- in fact, limits are actually hard to enforce.
You never know when the Banana Splits will help you sell the next product.
Thoughts?