Don't Spoil It. Enjoy It.

by Brynn Johnson (United States of America)

I didn't expect to find New Zealand

While hiking up the Tiki Trail in Queenstown, I stopped to take a picture of Lake Wakatipu peeping through the pine trees. There were a couple of kids behind me. Well, they were probably in their early 20s, but since I'm a grown ass 35-year-old now, I do that thing where I call young adults kids. One of them paused and looked my direction to see what I was seeing. The other said, "Wait, don't spoil it! No looking ‘til we get to the top." They quickly continued on, eyes focused only on the roots and steep inclines ahead of them. I couldn't help myself. I yelled after them like some senile know-it-all, "I like to take in the moments as I go. It's more beautiful that way!" One of them gave me a sympathetic half-smile, but scampered along with their partner. Maybe I called after them in part because there's no way my competitive self would have been able to go at their pace. I'm not in the shape that I once was and that's hard; especially when so much of my younger identity was tied up in being quick, fit, and athletic. (I was voted third most athletic female my senior year of high school, THANK YOU VERY MUCH) For the rest of my (much longer than their) hike, I wrestled with that don't spoil it comment. My mind drifted to how that comment translates to my day-to-day life as a teacher. So much of society contributes to an educational system that is fixated on the top; the grade, the degree, the outcome. The frustration I had during that moment in the hike is the same frustration I face in the classroom; where, as a teacher, I have to assign grades and, at the same time, tell students don't worry about the grade, let's have fun learning! Students see right through that bullshit. If we have a system that rewards the top, then that's what they will strive to achieve. And often times, yes, the top is beautiful; but getting there is too. It's not just climbing over and getting through the roots and rocks. It's being present and aware of the roots & rocks, trees & branches, and peaks & valleys that actually make the whole experience exciting and worthwhile. And as I mentioned earlier, being oh so wise now, I wish I could have imparted this wisdom on my younger self. As a student, I saw school as a place to achieve; not a place to learn. It wasn’t until that hike and brief interaction that I was able to truly articulate that what was missing from my time as a student was the ability (dare I say the permission) to appreciate the process of learning. Here I am, thirty-five and finally enjoying the process. I expected, even looked forward to, a challenging hike. I expected to come away with a sense of accomplishment and a ridiculous amount of beautiful pictures to sort through. But I didn’t expect that moment of revelation. And I definitely didn’t expect two kids enjoying their own journey up to be the cause of that revelation. In case you were wondering, I saw them hours later at the top. Don't know if they remembered our little exchange, but they had a memorable impact on my experience. I did a mental cheers to that special moment in our collective journey as I began my way back down the Tiki Trail.