This entry, my first in a while, was inspired by a casual conversation with my wife while walking on the beach in the Outer Banks. It really did unfold as described and then just stuck in my head as I felt there was something much larger than sand castles going on. I ended up writing a lot of this in my head on the drive home a few days later, and am really excited to finally deploy the word shambolic. Enjoy!

My wife and I enjoy morning strolls on the beach, which sounds like a cheesy line but is true. We talk about a lot and, really, nothing much at all while we dodge beached jellies, scan the horizon for dolphins and observe people enjoying the sun and surf. In our conversations, my success rate in expressing opinions with which she disagrees is close to 70% and a recent warm Wednesday morning added to that. The topic? Sand castles.

I noted that we were seeing more sand castles that morning (agreed). I then added that it seemed like the builders were more parents than kids (quiet disagreement). I waited a few steps and then summoned the courage to say, “That’s really not a good thing,” which elicited outright disagreement.

She’s a teacher so she’s well versed in the “I-do, we-do, you-do” continuum and countered that the parents were just being nice and helping their kids.

But in taking over the work, are they truly helping their kids? In the long run, I don’t think so.

I contend that our children’s construction skills, no matter how shambolic they might be today, should be reflected in what they produce. Their labor might not inspire passersby to gasp in amazement and take pictures, and might even dissuade you from snapping a few shots to post on social media, but at least the sand castle will reflect their work authentically.

For perspective, I’ve long advocated for the 10-and-10 Rule by which no school project can require more than $10 spent at Michael’s or 10 minutes of parent labor. When our kids were little, I also made it a point to compliment my wife on how much her work improved on dioramas she crafted for third son. I got away with the irony, but still believe that life has taught us that we learn by doing. More importantly, we learn by experience, which tends to consist of the mistakes we learn from.

On the beach, I took a gentle swipe about how our aspiring sand castle builders are being denied opportunity by well-intentioned parents and wanted to craft an argument based on a syllogism, which is that if A=B and B=C, then A=C.

My A=B logic is that struggle builds strength. The B=C is that we want our kids to become strong. Where the equation and explanation get a little messy and drift into applying negation, is that if we don’t want our kids to struggle, then we don’t want them to build strength. That’s problematic. Not intentional, but problematic.

Instead of framing that argument, I elected instead to read the room/beach and my audience, and opted to pivot: “So the Red Sox game was really exciting last night.” The experience of 26 years of marriage has taught me to cut bait.

Truthfully, I don’t care about sand castles, but am looking at a bigger picture of mindset and agency. I submit to you that we do well by allowing our children or the people we lead to endure the messy early stages of developing their skills. Be there as the safety net and provide a helping hand, but let them grow by doing the work to their own ability and vision. As they endure, we can guide them to become more durable and confident, and, ideally, celebrate in the brilliant sand castles they can eventually create.