I embarked on my first cross-country adventure at just six weeks old, when my mom whisked me away on a plane from California to Michigan for my uncle’s wedding. The following year, when we moved to Michigan, the travel bug bit me hard. For the next 18 years, my parents took me and my three sisters on journeys to nearly every corner of the continental United States. While many of our trips were to visit family, we also explored Canada, upstate New York, Texas, California, Washington, and beyond.
Throughout my childhood, I never spent an entire year in one state. Being the eldest daughter of a church worker and a stay-at-home mom, travel wasn’t a luxury; it was essential. Summers were often spent at Grandma and Grandpa’s in Canada, and I still recall a memorable summer flying from Ontario to Alberta and driving through the breathtaking Rocky Mountains to British Columbia, plus countless excursions around Toronto.
On another occasion, I traveled with my dad, a cousin, and one of my younger sisters in our station wagon from Illinois to Washington for yet another family wedding. We enjoyed stops in Wyoming, where we dreamed of our future home, and at Little Bighorn, a historic site I didn’t fully grasp at the time, and Mount Rushmore—just the first of many visits there over the years. I celebrated my twelfth birthday in San Antonio while visiting my aunt and uncle and spent my eighteenth birthday preparing for a trip to Ontario for an anniversary celebration at my grandfather’s church.
In high school, I began to venture out on my own, joining my church youth group for events in Tennessee, Texas, and Utah. My senior year, a friend, my little sister, and I took a spontaneous road trip from Michigan to Ohio for a youth retreat, a bold assertion of independence that stuck with me well into adulthood.
By the time I reached college, travel was simply part of life. I participated in choir tours to the Pacific Northwest and Florida, and I spent my junior year studying in London, taking the first two weeks to explore four different countries across Europe. Despite my parents’ protests, we made plans to backpack for two weeks, checking in sporadically as we traveled to new cities. By the end of my semester abroad, I had added seven countries to my travel portfolio.
Even marriage didn’t quell my wanderlust. Although my husband and I haven’t ventured out of the country in over 17 years, we have explored various corners of the United States, often opting for camping trips when other accommodations weren’t available.
My parents instilled in me a love for travel, regardless of whether my sisters and I were enthusiastic about it. I firmly believe that anyone can become a good traveler—and that it’s essential for our growth. Mark Twain once said, “Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts.” This resonates deeply with me, especially when I meet individuals who have never ventured beyond their home state.
Travel was a priority for my family, even during times when resources were tight. Though I never had the latest toys or the fanciest clothes, my parents always managed to find the means to fill the gas tank for family visits. Sometimes our trips were mundane, like a drive to Iowa to see my great-grandmothers, but other times they were filled with adventure, like visiting Niagara Falls and taking in both the Canadian and American sides.
I understand that various factors—financial limitations, lack of desire, or simply not knowing where to start—can keep people from exploring beyond their comfort zones. This is especially true for parents of young children. I empathize with the struggle of packing everything necessary for a trip, and I’ve experienced my fair share of travel mishaps. Our daughter has dealt with motion sickness, leading to unforeseen stops and clean-ups. Just two years ago, during a flight to Michigan for a wedding, she got sick upon landing. It took a lot of convincing to get her back on a plane, but we learned to be prepared with Children’s Dramamine for our future travels.
Initially, the fear of these challenges kept us from embarking on longer journeys with our kids, but like my parents before me, I realized we couldn’t avoid travel entirely. With family living at least two and a half hours away, it was essential for our children to bond with their grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. We had dreams of vacations with our children long before they were born, and we’ve made sure to fulfill those dreams.
When our daughter was a baby, we drove to Tennessee to show her the Great Smoky Mountains. As she grew, we ventured to North Carolina and Kansas for weddings. My husband even took our not-quite two-year-old on his lap for a flight to Florida while I stayed home pregnant with our son. Once he arrived, the challenge of entertaining two little ones in the car began. Like me, our children have yet to spend a whole year in just one state. Now, when we plan vacations, my son eagerly asks, “Are we going to a new state?” Their curiosity and desire to explore fill me with immeasurable joy.
In a November 2018 episode of the podcast Pantsuit Politics, co-host Beth Silvers remarked, “You can’t know our country through the Internet.” She emphasized that while we have resources to learn about the world from home, true wisdom comes from being present in new places. Traveling across the United States has always been akin to exploring Europe, as the diversity in geography and culture is vast.
Without firsthand experiences, it’s easy to generalize and stereotype fellow Americans. As co-host Sarah Stewart Holland noted, we often filter our perceptions of states through the lens of sensational news and memes, losing sight of the humanity behind the headlines.
In my teaching experience with The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, I often asked students if they had seen the Mississippi River—a significant backdrop in Twain’s narrative. Year after year, I was astonished by how many had never laid eyes on it, even living within a relatively short drive. Conversely, my children recently encountered the Mississippi while camping in Wisconsin and later crossed it again in New Orleans during Thanksgiving. This exposure has sparked their curiosity about the river whenever we approach a large body of water.
To bridge the gap that divides us, we must step outside our familiar surroundings and experience our country through the eyes of others. It’s not enough to observe from afar; we must walk the streets, meet the people, and immerse ourselves in the diverse tapestry of American life.
Starting this journey early is crucial. Our children should engage with individuals who are different from them and explore places beyond their everyday surroundings. This doesn’t mean an overwhelming four-week trip with toddlers; instead, begin with small outings. Plan a day trip to a nearby state park or visit a museum in the city. Gradually increase your adventures as your family grows more comfortable.
Teaching our children about the vastness of the world will empower them to make a positive impact, no matter how small. And who knows? We might learn something valuable along the way too.
This article was originally published on May 7, 2019.
Summary:
Traveling with children from a young age fosters curiosity and understanding of the world. Drawing on personal experiences, the author emphasizes the importance of exposing kids to diverse cultures and landscapes, starting with small outings and gradually building up to more significant adventures. Travel can help combat prejudice and broaden perspectives, making it essential for personal growth and societal understanding.