As my overworked phone storage can tell you, I love to take photos of my kids. I like the silly, the serious, and the candid shots. One of my favorites, though, is when I manage to capture my kids taking their own photo. Now that our twin middle schoolers and high schooler have their own phones, I get to see the way they view the world as we move through our city, country, and other parts of the planet (and my 8-year-old never minds swiping an adult phone to capture a memory.)
I stood this spring and watched my 14-year-old son capture photos of the sweeping vistas and Pacific views in Altos de Campana National Park in Panama — and then just sit, taking it all in. We had chosen to take a trip to Panama to see my brother and his family, who have a home there.
And, due to adoption-related issues, it took a lot of work and more money than I’d like to admit to get passports for our family of six, but watching him that day made it all worth it.
I have zero regrets over every penny, every battle over airplane seats, every responsibility we set on a back burner to get the hell out of this country for a week.
I’m the last person anyone should take financial advice from, but I long ago decided that I’d rather go into debt over my kids’ first sunset over the Pacific than over anything that makes our house more Pinterest-worthy. I realize even saying that is a privilege that many families don’t have, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I hefted the weight of those six little blue books in my hand. It felt like freedom.
We’ve been traveling since our kids were tiny. It’s not always easy. We’ve swapped local road trips and shoving pack-n-plays in our minivan for bigger adventures inside and outside of the United States. We are far from well-traveled, but the more suitcases we pack, the more I realize how crucial travel of any type is to healing some of the brokenness in this world right now.
So I encourage you to just go. Even if it’s “just to Canada” by car, even if it’s just for the day. Just go.
It feels like a lot right now; I get it. We spent over two years chasing down passports while trying to have fun inside of these borders. There are so many ways, within this beautifully rich and diverse nation, to get your kids mentally “out” without physically leaving. Beyond that, did you know that kids 16 and under only need a birth certificate to travel by car to Canada, Mexico, or on closed-loop Caribbean cruises? Or that Puerto Rico and the U.S. Virgin Islands, both territories, don’t require a passport at all? These destinations are part of the United States — and are culturally rich locations perfect for expanding little horizons.
We live in Pittsburgh, which is packed with cultural celebrations, restaurants, and museum exhibits that bring together people from all corners of the globe to celebrate the many wonderful ways there are to be human. In our city alone, there’s a bilingual story time every week at Duolingo, nationality rooms that are free to tour, and festivals to celebrate food and culture from every corner of the globe — we’ve launched dragon boats and celebrated Eids and learned how to say hello in a dozen languages without even needing a second tank of gas. You might be surprised at the ways you can open up your kids’ worldview right at home.
This is what we need right now as parents: to teach our kids there is more in this beautiful world that unites us than divides us, and I believe travel is the best tool in our toolbox to accomplish that. We are inundated with stories and reels of people who packed it all up to move to another country. While that sounds great some days, it isn’t feasible for most of us. It’s not for us, so we’ve chosen to help our kids microdose the world instead.
By the numbers, about 23 percent of Americans have not left the United States for a myriad of reasons: finances, anxiety, inability to get a passport, and on and on. For those that do travel, though, the same research found an increase in knowledge and interest about the world, as well as more compassion for those in situations different than our own. It’s scientific: travel creates better humans.
Before our trip to Panama this spring, we talked often with our kids about the new experiences they would have. We repeated a mantra my brother tells his own kids, who spend a good chunk of each year overseas. “It’s not weird, it’s just different.”
On our trip, I saw my kids’ eyes open to the breadth of beauty in this world. As we cruised down the Chagres River in dugout canoes, I felt tears stream down my face. Being seated last in the canoe allowed me to see my children take in the rainforest with wide eyes while they absorbed the words of our indigenous hosts. I could almost see their world view expanding as they took in the food, music, and way of life that we were invited to experience. I watched my kid, who will reject an off-brand chicken nuggie, nibble on fresh tilapia plucked from the Chagres and cooked over a fire as my heart swelled with pride (and a bit of shock, if I’m honest).
As our week in Panama progressed, I saw my kids grow in confidence in a new culture. They became more willing to try out a few fledgling Spanish words or play with new friends they couldn’t understand.
I watched my kids push themselves to do new things daily. Some moments were hard; don’t think I am selling you an international cakewalk. I made at least two emergency trips to a Panamanian McDonald’s when one kiddo was craving the familiar, and I cried at least twice that I can recall. (Bonus? McDonald’s tastes better and fresher in almost every other country, in case you were wondering.)
By the end of our too-short week, I watched one of my 12-year-old twins take his baby sister up to a street vendor in Panama City, count out a handful of balboas, and use his blossoming Spanish to order two frozen fruit desserts. It wasn’t perfect, but it was beautiful.
As I stood with my kids in the Plaza de la Independencia, built in 1673, I felt an overwhelming sense of thankfulness. I felt the millions of feet that had traversed the stones below my own, a million different lives lived throughout history. I know that moment, like every new experience, expanded their horizons a bit. I know that these moments make our kids more tolerant, more curious, and more excited to continue exploring. I am increasingly convinced this is the medicine this country needs right now.
This planet is so incredible, but I am often overwhelmed by how much time we spend fighting and hating each other during our time on it. As parents, so many of us are working hard to raise kids that are empathetic, accepting, independent, and strong. There’s a lot of ways we can do that, but I would say that one of the best ways is to get your kids the hell out of this country (even if just for a bit).
Meg St-Esprit, M. Ed. is a journalist and essayist based in Pittsburgh, PA. She’s a mom to four kids via adoption as well as a twin mom. She loves to write about parenting, education, trends, and the general hilarity of raising little people.
