Kids flourish on trip back in time
Visit to Europe provides sons with opportunity to experience region’s history for themselves
The first advice given to all new writers is: “Show, don’t tell.” While on a recent family vacation, I discovered that this advice also applies to teaching my kids about European history.
“Show, don’t tell,” for anyone unfamiliar with this advice, is a reminder of the writer’s primary responsibility: to take the reader with you on the journey. One of my favourite examples of this is from Harper Lee’s classic novel To Kill a Mockingbird. In the first chapter she describes the weather: “Somehow, it was hotter then: a black dog suffered on a summer’s day . . . Men’s stiff collars wilted by nine in the morning. Ladies bathed before noon, after their three o’clock naps, and by nightfall were like soft teacakes with frostings of sweat and sweet talcum.”
Much better than simply writing “it was very, very, VERY hot.”
In Paris, my kids fell in love with pain au chocolat and nibbled on baguettes while we hit the usual attractions — we saw the Eiffel Tower and took a selfie in front of the Mona Lisa at the Louvre. But it wasn’t until we visited the Grand Mosque that the impromptu history lesson began.
The Grand Mosque of Paris is a beautiful building built to honour the North African countries who fought alongside France in the First World War. The building spans almost an entire city block and even has an attached restaurant and tea room. It is here, sipping mint tea in dainty glass cups, that we discuss the darkness of the Second World War.
“Muslims hid Jews from the Nazis in this mosque,” I tell my kids. “They even forged fake birth certificates and helped them escape.” There was a movie made about this forgotten history, the 2011 film Free Men starring French actor Michael Lonsdale. My sons listen intently and ask questions. “But what happened to the Jews who were caught? What is a concentration camp? Why did this happen?”
I’ve talked to them about the First and Second World Wars before.
But they didn’t really pay attention until this moment, when they were surrounded by history.
I notice this same intent listening when we travel to London. We visit the Tower of London, where Ibrahim is disappointed not to bump into a real-life knight holding a broadsword. They linger over the spot where the bodies of the two young princes were found. “They were 12 and 9, the same age as you when they were killed by their uncle, King Richard III. Allegedly,” I add.
We travel to Hampton Court and I tell them about King Henry VIII and his disastrous love life.
We stroll past “Cleopatra’s Needle,” an Egyptian obelisk on the Thames Embankment, flanked by two reproduction sphinxes. I point out the shrapnel at the base of the monument to Mustafa.
“It was damaged during the First World War. London was also under siege during the Blitz in the Second World War. Many children were evacuated to the countryside and even as far away as Canada. Yet most people went about their business as usual, showing remarkable courage,” I tell him.
At night, Ibrahim wants to hear more. “Do you have any other stories?” he asks. He’s not just trying to evade sleep; something has been ignited inside him. “I find history really interesting. Are there any books about this stuff? Can we take them out from the library when we get home?”
In Rome, Ibrahim shows off his knowledge of Roman gods, gleaned from a careful reading of the Rick Riordan novels. We go on a tour of the Colosseum and are shown where slaves were forced to live and work in almost perpetual darkness. We visit the archeological site of Pompeii, Mount Vesuvius glowering in the distance.
I admit I was hesitant to take my kids on this trip at first. I wasn’t sure they would appreciate what they were seeing, that they would be bored by the cultural sites I was excited to visit. I didn’t give them enough credit. When provided with an opportunity to experience history for themselves, my kids were fascinated and mesmerized; their view of the world enlarged by new places and ideas.
Turns out, “Show, don’t tell” is excellent advice, on or off the page. Uzma Jalaluddin is a high school teacher in York Region. She writes about parenting and other life adventures. Reach her at ujalaluddin@outlook.com