top of page

How My Mother Inspired My Intellectual Curiosity

The Library Before Bedtime - by Amanda Song


I grew up in a tiny house tucked between two tall maples, where the evening light made everything feel gentle and alive. My mother, once a teacher in a one-room schoolhouse, had a habit of reading on the porch—novels, newspapers, old textbooks—even as the moths gathered under the single lamppost by the driveway. She would leave the door ajar, so my brother and I could slip out, barefoot in summer pajamas, to ask questions about whatever story we’d overheard her reading. She never said, “Go to bed” or “I’m busy.” Instead, she’d flip closed whatever she was reading and say, “So what do you think?” as if her news article or Shakespeare play was our business, too.

It was this nightly ritual that taught me something crucial about intellectual curiosity: it begins with a place of permission. We children were allowed to get in over our heads. If I asked my mother about Shakespeare, she’d pull a battered copy of Hamlet from the shelf and read a few lines, letting the unfamiliar words hang in the humid night air. If my brother asked about the rockets he’d seen on TV, she’d rummage through her old elementary science books. We didn’t fully understand all of it, but it didn’t matter. We were there, listening and learning, every bit as invested as she was.

Nowadays, in conversations with parents at my daughter’s elementary school, I hear a familiar anxiety: How do I spark that flicker of curiosity? Many recall how their children, once so inquisitive, now limit themselves to two or three interests. Some wonder if technology has replaced genuine exploration. Others worry they don’t have the “expertise” to inspire a young mind. But from my years as both a teacher and a parent, I know that nurturing curiosity isn’t about having all the right answers; it’s about inviting children to ask the questions in the first place.

Below, I’ll share a few specific strategies—some gleaned from my own experience, some from educational research—that can help parents kindle that lively, questioning spirit in their children. But more than a mere checklist, I hope these ideas open doors for you to build a culture of curiosity in your home.


1. Establish a “Culture of Wonder”

There’s a fascinating study from the 1970s by psychologist Paul Harris, who looked at how children’s questions shape their learning. He discovered that children ask more “explanatory” questions when adults respond genuinely, rather than dismissively. In other words, they learn early on whether curiosity is welcome or annoying. If a child senses that “Why?” is an invitation to conversation, they keep wondering. If they sense an eye-roll, they learn to be quiet.


In my own classroom, I had a “Wonder Wall.” Students could pin up questions—no matter how wild or tangential—and we’d address them throughout the week. This simple act of publicizing curiosity instilled a sense that questions were celebrated, not brushed aside. Parents can adapt this at home with a “Wonder Journal,” where kids (or parents) jot down topics they’d like to investigate. This practice signals that their explorations don’t have to be neatly concluded in a single moment.

Key Takeaway for Parents

  • Respond to questions with genuine engagement: “That’s a good question. Let’s find out!”

  • Maintain a visible or shared space (like a journal or bulletin board) where kids can deposit their questions, so they sense an ongoing commitment to wonder.


2. Encourage Exploratory Play—But Add a Dash of Structure

Free play is one of the purest forms of learning. I remember a day when my daughter, Eliza, was intent on building a blanket fort that spanned the length of our living room. Her “blueprint” was drawn on a piece of scrap paper, complete with scribbled squares for chairs and taped-down corners. She tested angles, reinforced entrances with cushions, and—without realizing it—was dabbling in geometry and basic physics.

While free play is vital, structured exploratory play can also boost curiosity.

A Montessori-style approach, for instance, offers children real tools—such as measuring cups or magnifying glasses—and encourages them to interact with a prepared environment. Studies from the journal Child Development note that children who engage in “guided discovery” are more likely to develop deep, focused interests.

Key Takeaway for Parents

  • Alternate between unsupervised exploration (where kids can build forts, design Lego kingdoms, or create story lines with action figures) and lightly guided tasks (setting up a science kit or a puzzle that encourages them to apply logical thinking).


3. Connect Ideas to Personal Experiences

When I was eight, my father took me to his friend’s farm. He didn’t just say, “Look, horses!” He asked, “Why do you think horses can stand all day long and never get tired?” After that, I was hopelessly hooked on equine anatomy. Research in educational psychology consistently points to a simple formula: Relevance = Engagement. If a child perceives that a topic has something to do with their own world, they naturally lean in.

In the classroom, I’ve seen how a single connection can spark a child’s curiosity. For instance, if we’re studying water cycles, a student might say, “This reminds me of the puddles outside my house that dry up by the afternoon!” That personal link instantly makes the lesson more vivid. At home, parents can deepen this sense of relevance by tying academic concepts to the child’s daily life. Studying fractions at school? Bake cookies together and measure out the ingredients precisely. Discussing historical figures? Relate them to the child’s own life story or ancestors.

Key Takeaway for Parents

  • Whenever possible, ground new ideas in your child’s lived reality. Whether it’s science, history, or literature, show them how these concepts echo around them.


4. Embrace “I Don’t Know” and Model Your Own Curiosity

Too often, we view parental authority as a kind of omniscience—if a child asks, we must answer. But it can be far more inspiring to say, “I don’t know. Let’s figure it out together.” When children see parents (or teachers) searching the internet, flipping through a reference book, or calling a friend for insight, they learn that curiosity is a lifelong trait, not a child’s passing phase.

My mother was a master of this approach. She openly displayed her ignorance. If she didn’t understand some snippet of news, she’d say so, then wander into the living room to consult an encyclopedia or a clipping from her teacher’s manual. It made me realize that grown-ups, too, are explorers of knowledge. In turn, I learned that lack of an immediate answer wasn’t something to hide but a nudge toward further inquiry.

Key Takeaway for Parents

  • Celebrate your own moments of uncertainty. Let your child see the process of discovery in real time. They’ll understand that curiosity is a shared endeavor between child and parent.


5. Expose Them to Intellectual Diversity

When my brother and I were growing up, my mother insisted we visit the public library every Saturday morning. We’d choose a random aisle, close our eyes, and pull out a book. It didn’t matter if it was about entomology or 18th-century French cooking—“some exposure never hurt,” she’d say. One weekend, my brother picked out a thick volume on submarines and spent the next few months devouring submarine trivia, building cardboard “submersibles” in the backyard, and scrawling designs for aquatic explorations.

There’s a longstanding body of research, including a well-cited study in the Review of Educational Research, that shows how a breadth of experiences can lead to deeper passion in a few areas. When children see a wide horizon of possibilities—different cultures, sciences, arts—they’re more likely to land on pursuits that genuinely resonate.

Key Takeaway for Parents

  • Provide varied intellectual stimuli: visits to local museums, short documentary screenings, new sections of the library (or bookstore) they’ve never explored. You never know which hidden interest might suddenly blossom.


6. Keep the Conversation Going

Curiosity isn’t something that fits neatly into a daily schedule. It’s more like an endless thread, woven into the fabric of family life. After a museum visit or a day at school, try “evening roundtables” at the dinner table, where each family member shares one interesting question they encountered that day. Maybe it’s a riddle from math class, or a baffling detail from a local art exhibit. By cultivating this ritual, you ensure that curiosity remains part of everyday conversation.

When I think back to those nights on the porch, it was never just one question or one answer. My mother’s readiness to engage made questioning a default setting in our home. Over time, it shaped how we saw the world. Curiosity was not an occasional event; it was the rule.

Key Takeaway for Parents

  • Treat each day’s discoveries and confusions as starting points for discussion. Keep the momentum alive by allowing questions to linger and resurface.


Conclusion: A Shared Journey

From my mother’s nightly reading on the porch to the “Wonder Wall” in my classroom, I’ve come to see curiosity as an ongoing dialogue—sometimes messy, never linear, but always meaningful. It flourishes in a home that tolerates half-answered questions, embraces “I don’t know,” and honors the notion that every question is worth pursuing.

Yes, there are tests to be taken, milestones to be met, and responsibilities to maintain. But none of these should overshadow the joy of curiosity. In that fragile space where a child asks, “Why?” is the very seed of intellectual growth. As parents, our role is not to force this seed to sprout overnight, but to water it patiently: with wonder, relevance, collaboration, and a commitment to lifelong exploration.

May your evenings, too, become a sort of “library before bedtime,” filled with questions, partial answers, and the steady thrill of wanting to know more. The rewards are far more profound than acing a quiz: a curious child is a child who will never stop discovering, who sees the world not as a collection of fixed facts, but as a dynamic, beckoning frontier.


Amanda Song

Comentarios


bottom of page