Durable Human (2 book series)

Poem Describes a Durable Human

Kids-playing-in-creek-at-Erie-Art-Museum-Blues-and-Jazz-Festival-2012As some readers of this blog may know, I am also writing a book called The Durable Human. It’s not easy to explain what it means to be “durable.” So I was thunderstruck when I heard Garrison Keillor on The Writer’s Almanac read this love poem by Sharon Dunn:


My eleven year old son wants to fish,
he owns two rods, one saltwater,
one freshwater. He loves knives,
Bowie knives, Swiss Army
knives, “Knives like this one?”
my brother says, opening his desk
drawer and taking out a small
jackknife with antler handle.
My boy camps outdoors, begs to sleep
outside, is always shooting
arrows, rubber band guns,
he is lashing together a fort
in the backyard. He sails,
swims, kayaks and wants
to know the stars.
The outdoor hunting genes
are in the dark men in my family.
Yet I believe he is a son of light.
His joy in reading, cooking
and piano are fanned
from the tinderbox
of his father’s heart.
He will save rainforest,
he will grow vegetables,
keep horses, fly his own plane.
He will make his own brave life,
he will not remake our lives
nor redeem us, nor pity us.

[From Refugees in the Garden: A Memoir in Poems. © The Rose Press, 2009]

I may not need to write a book now that Dunn has nailed “durable” in one poem. Or, should I say, her son has.

The poet paints a vivid picture of his rich childhood. She and his father are allowing him the time to taste and feel and explore his world. Curious and bright like any child, he has the freedom to discover what he likes to do and what he does well. Besides knowing the stars, he is coming to know himself and honing what gives us all an edge as human beings: our wonderful, irreproducible senses (including our humor and intuition!), our curiosity and our conscience.

We can be fairly sure when he grows up this boy will have mined his personal resources, stockpiled his skills and is ready to “make his own brave life.”

And isn’t that what all parents want? For our children to be able to cook and fish and know how to be self-reliant; to be creative, courageous contributors as opposed to vapid consumers?

But we’re talking about a poem here. Is this boy a figment? Can kids still learn to be durable? How can we teach them when we’re having trouble being durable ourselves?

(Author’s addendum: The boy in the poem got in touch! See what he said by clicking on the comments to the left of the post.)

5 thoughts on “Poem Describes a Durable Human

  1. Great post, JJ. To me the poem is less about the child’s actions, and more reflective of the parent’s recognition of the value of her child’s explorations in the uncarpeted and unpaved wild. I grew up on a large farm with lots of free time, messing around in forests, fields and swamps. My kids live more structured suburban lives. As a parent, it’s easy to succumb to the gravitational pull of “actiivites”. Over-supervision and over-programming can be an enemy, as can electronics, media, or regimented “play-dates” where your parents pick your friends. Parental obsession over academics, sports or music doesn’t help either. Even the best slate of programs can’t rise to the value of a couple of unplanned hours catching frogs down by the creek with a neighborhood buddy or two. The child in the poem is eleven. By that age, a child should have less scaffolding in his life, and be able to spend time in the natural world, sometimes with adults, sometimes not. Competence and confidence in the wild translates directly to life’s other challenges.

    1. Thanks so much for taking the time to comment, Jeff. So many good points. Love the concept of “scaffolding” and relative need thereof. The importantance of kids having “free time” is too often forgetten or – perhaps worse – kids’ spare time is crammed with the things and activities you mention which crowd out their wild thoughts and behavior. Allowing that to happen has a high opportunity cost by blocking a kid’s process of getting to know him/herself and discovering the gifts inside.
      BTW – be forewarned that I use you as an example in the book on the topic of TAKING CHANCES LEADING TO HAVING GUTS (often made possible while playing outside). In your case: “Boy makes good as high-flying network news director because he took the dare from his friends to dive in the leech-filled cranberry bog.”

  2. I’m not a figment! And, indeed, I have wonderful parents. I turned 22 on Wednesday, I’m a senior at Brown University, a classical pianist, an entrepreneur starting a company, an Ultimate Frisbee player. And I do grow vegetables.

    Beautiful poem Mom.

    1. Oh my gosh! I’m all teary-eyed that you actually found this and got in touch! Hey – happy birthday! You ARE a durable adult – and I’m hoping you show the post to your durable parents. I’m serious about your being the desired end-product of parenting, that is, a person who grows up to Think Differently. Please don’t think that’s an insult. Humanity has advanced because there have been all different kinds of people in this world. All those different thoughts and talents woven together are what make a strong and vibrant economy, indeed a strong and vibrant world. My motivation in writing The Durable Human is for us all to realize that if everybody reads the same information from the same sites, plays the same games, humans will starting being all alike. In so doing, our diversity will be eroded and we may start to de-volve, essentially becoming interchangeable parts without much ongoing value.
      Ok – enough deep thoughts. It’s great you have a startup. Would you mind if I ask what it’s about?

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