“Play is the highest form of research.” Albert Einstein
My mother always knew that my brother, Michael, was a brilliant soul even when others were not so sure. He was curious from the day he was born and his intelligence showed itself in the intensity with which he interacted with the world around him. She had photos of him among a flock of ducks with the most serious expression on his face while other children were laughing with delight at the antics of the birds. Mama treasured the picture because she felt that it demonstrated his intense concentration and the fact that he was quite seriously thinking about what made those ducks the way they were.
When Michael was a toddler he often got into trouble because he always seemed to be intent on discovery of some kind or another. Once he dove his hands into an ant bed because he wanted to know what had made such an interesting structure. Of course he quickly found out that the critters had an incredible sting that left him with a swollen body for a couple of days.
On another occasion when he was about three years old he was playing with me and he managed to unscrew a part from a little doll swing that I had. Just as I was chastising him I watched in horror as he studied the metal screw as though he was deciding how it worked. First he tasted it but was smart enough not to try to swallow it. Then he put it up his nose and it disappeared. That little experiment landed him in the hospital and resulted in his tonsils and adenoids being removing.
I think that most parents might have viewed his courageous interactions with nature and objects as the silliness of little ones but my mother seemed to understand that he was actually attempting to find out what made those things tick. It would be how he was for all of his life and sometimes it made him seem as if he was in another world as he put on his thinking cap as my mother often called his faraway looks.
My little brother walked around with books about how to tie knots and a large volume written and illustrated by Werner von Braun predicting a future journey to the moon when other kids were gazing at Little Golden Books. He was fascinated with numbers and science and my mother encouraged it in his play before he ever went to school.
Because my brother was very quiet and seemed to be in a world of his own some of his teachers would initially view him as a slow student. He would surprise them when he silently completed his work with perfection and insight. Soon enough they too realized that he was alway learning from the world around him and they gave him a wide berth to do his thing.
Michael wanted to know why and how everything worked so he all too often took things apart and then attempted to put them back together again. Sometimes he did not have the skill to make the repairs but both of my parents would just smile and insist that his learning was more important than any object. When he attempted to determine how the moving joints of my favorite doll worked he summarily undid the intricate balance of rubber bands and eye hooks and there she lay in pieces when I came home from school. Somehow as a seven year old I was not able to appreciate his experiments as much as my parents did so when they defended him I was confused. I would have to grow up before I fully understood what a precious gift he had.
I learned soon enough how bright and wonderful my brother is. He would attend Rice University and earn both a bachelor’s and master’s degree in mathematics and engineering. His mind was on a plain so much higher than anyone that I knew that I often wished that my brilliant father had been around long enough to enjoy the kind of conversations with Michael that only two peas in a pod would totally comprehend.
Micheal spent his entire career working as a contractor for NASA. He was the author of the software that sent astronauts to the International Space Station. He still reads constantly and pushes his mind beyond the limitations of most of us. I smile when he launches into a detailed discussion of the mechanics of why a plane crashed or how a mathematical calculation came to be. I remember that faith in him that my mother had from the time he was born and the joy that she and my father shared whenever they watched him exploring the world around him.
We sometimes put limits on children out of fear that they may hurt themselves or that there may be something wrong with them if they do not seem to be just like all of the other kids. We would do well to believe like my mother whose intuition told her that play is evidence of a working mind attempting to make sense of the world. Big research is happening in them minds of children every single day and when we encourage them their minds go to the most wonderful places.
All It Takes Is A Little Love 