The Benefits of Travel for Teens

a teen's view of the white house . . .

What is the best age for kids to travel?  It could be argued that travel is good for a person at any age. The benefits of travel, whether within the U.S. or abroad, are wide ranging. The opportunity to see the world beyond your comfortable circumference opens your eyes and your mind. It increases tolerance and fosters understanding. It doesn’t have to be a far away land, world trekking adventure that makes a difference in your life. Travel and education are invariably intertwined. Even a trip across town can be educational if coupled with the right mindset.

You go. You learn. You come back home with a little more understanding of how the world works, how it got to be the way it is, and you lose a bit of the fear of the unknown, because after traveling to a place, its not so unknown.

viewing the canyons of southern California

Traveling as a family, whether the children are toddlers or teens, enriches us all. The time spent together, of course, is important, but the shared experiences are what make traveling with your family something that binds you. You create memories that serve to connect you as a family. It’s not necessarily the big things – visiting the monuments and historic sites – that make the journey a series of lessons. 

on the ferry to the statue of liberty, with Manhattan in the background.

Just the process of a trip, from the planning to the unpacking, is an educational experience. In the planning stages, it may well be the adults that make the decisions about the where and the when, but as a parent, you know you don’t make those choices without taking your children into consideration, whether you ask for their opinions or not. Their age level, abilities and interests determine so much of the logistics of travel. Will they be able to handle being in an airport for a 3 hour layover without having a meltdown? Can they carry their own luggage? Would an additional day or two in a particular city allow you to visit the sites you know they’d love?

calling home from a pay phone in Mexico

My friend Tom is an eighth grade history teacher. When we asked him at what age he thought that a child would benefit most from visiting historical sites, he quickly answered that the years between seventh and tenth grades are best for educational travel. His answer comes from knowing that the curriculum in those grades revolves around the history of western civilization in broad terms. In school, kids learn about the wars and the cultures of the ages that have determined life as we know it. They don’t always see it that way, but a good teacher can make all the difference. A good teacher makes it fun to learn, striving to make a connection between the student and the point in history being taught. I’m sure that in today’s world, full of buzzing and bells, screen time and constant stimulation, a student’s ability to grasp onto a piece of what brought us to this point in history is diminished by the noise. The way to get through the din is to create a connection and one of the best ways to do that is by experiencing history on a more organic, tactical level, through travel. 

the Gettysburg Address at the Lincoln Memorial

Though history is well documented, augmented and argued, it’s tough to make it stick without an association to it. It all seems so long ago and far away. That’s where travel can have a huge impact. Take the bits of the history that trickle through the chaos of middle and high schools, mix it with a hands on experience with the place where history happened and you have a bona fide connection that translates to learning, whether they realize it or not.

And it’s not just in the case of history. There’s poetry to be absorbed in Edgar Allen Poe’s city of Baltimore. There’s science, meteorology, archeology to be see at Mount St Helens. You can "feel the flutter" of the butterfly enclosure at the Smithsonian's Natural History Museum.  There are Mayan ruins on the high cliffs above the Caribbean beaches of the Yucatan in Mexico.

Immigrant's luggage at Ellis Island

The grade levels that my friend Tom suggested are often a point in between the first exposure a kid has to a particular event and the more detailed study that happens in the later grades. When my daughter was in the fourth grade, her class did an extended project on Ellis Island. The students were first taught about the countries that were the homes of immigrants arriving there and had to select a character from them. My daughter chose a girl from the French countryside. They next had to research clothing from the time period so that they could portray their characters and tell their stories as applied to entering the U.S. at Ellis Island. On presentation day, families were invited to the classrooms of the fourth graders, where each class was a different station in the process of entry. Students, dressed in costume, told tales of their journeys and what they may have brought from their home countries, of hardships endured and of hope for the future.

entry ledger at Ellis Island

 Fast forward nearly four years and to our visit this past summer to Ellis Island. My husband, daughter and I arrived at Ellis Island by ferry from Liberty State Park in New Jersey. Upon entering the building, we took advantage of the free audio tour available. First exhibit: a considerable stack of luggage; trunks, satchels, crates and baskets served to illustrate methods of containment for immigrant’s precious items brought to this new world that we would see later on in the tour. We stood in the entry hall, heard voices and sounds as they were so many years ago. Medical exams and educational assessment, white tiled rooms that divided families and generations, stories of so many lives that passed through there. We saw graffiti on the walls left by people who waited there to be notified of their acceptance. The building and the grounds were overwhelming with sounds and promise. Towards the end of the tour, exhibits of propaganda posters and governmental advocacy highlighted the turning of the public against free immigration, some calling out to stop the onslaught, to essentially build a wall. It taught us all that the struggles of Americans and of those who wish to be Americans look and sound must as they do now, only different ports of entry and different countries of origin.  

Liberty has her flame; my daughter her phone

My daughter moved on ahead of us in the tour, anxious for the next chapter. It was hard to keep up with her. When eighth grade began this fall, she was excited to tell me that they will be studying Ellis Island in her social studies class and that she stopped by the teacher’s desk on her way out of class that first day to tell him that she had been there. Yesterday she told me how much she likes her social studies class this year, which thrilled me since it’s been a subject she’s struggled with in the past.

It is expected when visiting historic sites that some education seeps in. One would hope that would happen.

But there’s more to travel that educates on a whole different level.

The exposure to people, places, food, methods of transport, cultural expectations, and societal differences whether two states removed from home or half way around the world has an impact on the way a kid views life from there on in. If it removes even one layer of fear travel is worthwhile. 

Learning patience at the airport - both parties here needed the education.

 There are lessons along the way that as adults we might glaze over. Reading maps and road signs, maneuvering through an airport, checking into a hotel, riding a subway, hailing a cab, skyscrapers and projects, backyards of chickens and goats and donkeys that roam freely, landscapes that surprise in their variation, there are so many nuances of living on this planet that are a little less intimidating when you’ve experienced them yourself. You might be surprised at the things that kids notice on a journey. You might also learn something yourself.

a little fun with distortion . . Liberty perched high above.

 In my travel experiences with my family, we’ve found that the memories and experience gained far outweigh any concerns about the costs. We all look at the Statue of Liberty a bit differently now that we’ve been there and stood at her feet as she gazes out over the harbor. We laugh about the outburst of a fellow passenger on the small ferry we took from Manhattan to New Jersey. The three of us reminisce about the awesome handmade tacos we had at the tiny restaurant in the jungle when we visited an attraction nearby. When we see the Hollywood sign on the hills above Los Angeles, we remember that twisty narrow road we took to get up as close to it as you can drive and the haze that hung over the city in the heat that day. We’ve often seen a location in a movie or on TV that we visited in the canyons of California where directors use the unusually shaped boulders as backdrop for scenes that range from the Flintstones to Armageddon. 

Is it Bedrock or an alien planet? This canyon has been both.

at Madame Tusseau's she got to meet Will Smith . . sort of

Hollywood behind her, the future is bright

 The point is that travel changes you for the better. It educates, illuminates, and connects us to one another. It diminishes fears and increases confidence and understanding. With such focus in the coming months on giving, it could be an opportunity to give an experience rather than a thing. No you can’t hold an adventure in your hands and squirrel it away for safe keeping. You can end up possessing much more and having a deeper understanding and connection to the world around us and to your family. 

Civil rights lesson at the Smithsonian

Mr. Moose and Bunny Rabbit were certainly part of MY history.

Earlier entertainment

That’s a gift too big to wrap. Travel is the only thing we can buy that makes us richer. 

On Ellis Island

Just a few of the things teens can learn from travelling:

• Exchanging money – the US dollar vs the world’s currencies.
• Overcoming or adapting to language barriers by necessity; i.e. having to ask where the bathroom is or ordering food in a restaurant.
• Differences and similarities in foods, dress styles, architecture, and transportation.
• That the landscapes and terrain may be worlds apart in a different part of the country or the world but a smile is universal.

holding up the Washington Monument

 

My daughter has been invited to participate in a student ambassador program next summer that will include her in a group of teens from the area traveling to the United Kingdom. The group will visit England, Scotland, Wales, and both Northern Ireland and Ireland. They will participate in educational activities, confidence and team building exercises, some community service, a home stay with a local family, and even get a tour of Parliament in London by a member of Parliament. The program is run through People to People. Students who participate are responsible to raise the funds needed. Therefore she and I have been exploring fundraising initiatives, such as bake sales. Follow her progress at www.follownolasjourney.blogspot.com. 

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Remember Vanessa: A visit to the 9/11 Memorial in New York City

She was just two years old.  On the way to bring her to my mother's so I could go to work, I had a flat tire.  Her father came to meet me and fix the tire, while I entertained a two year old by the side of a country road in Lyman Maine.  The tire fixed, I got her buckled into her car seat.  The radio came on when I started the car and its then that I heard it.  I had been listening to Imus in the Morning.  Don Imus was talking about how many people worked in the World Trade Center, how many could be affected, how many hurt.  No one knew how far reaching this was going to become. 

We all have our memories of that day.  I wasn’t born when Kennedy was shot.  I was too young when Armstrong stepped onto the moon’s surface.  I have a vague memory of Nixon’s resignation, only because my father told me that I’d read about it in my history books. 

My little daughter doesn’t remember that she was asleep on the couch when I sat with my parents in their living room and saw the south tower crumble.  I can recall my father’s long low whistle, the one he uses when he sees something incredible, natural devastation or an unfathomable horror.

Here we are, so many years later, and watching the story unfold again as the anniversary nears reminds me not only of how fortunate I am to have been able to sit safely with my parents that day, with my little girl, my vibrant, sweet, healthy little girl, asleep within sight.  I’ve been able to watch her grow up and have enjoyed the every day things with her.  I have lived my life seemingly unaffected by the day.

But aren’t we all affected?  Its not just the changes in airline regulations or the New York skyline, yet those are regular reminders.  The mindset of the world is different.  We as Americans came together to mourn and then set out for restitution.    

In August, our family vacation was off to a wonderful start.  A beautiful Saturday morning, we left Maine, heading for New York.  We had plans to visit Ellis Island, the Statue of Liberty, and with enough time, the 9/11 Memorial site.  We found out that although free to visit, you must make reservations to enter the grounds.  We took to ferry from Liberty Island to Battery Park and walked the few blocks to the site.  The line to enter the Memorial wound around and through several security checkpoints.  Once cleared, the clamoring of the crowd in line was hushed in reverence.  Entering the park like setting is unsettling in a way.  How can one person possibly absorb everything this space means?  The waterfalls that mark the footprints of the buildings seem to have been designed so that no matter how tall, a human cannot see the bottom of the falls.  It just pours endlessly.  I think that the sound of rushing water is an appropriate diversion from the sounds of the city around it.  How else to create a silence of sorts?  Piped in music would not have worked here.  Who could decide what would play?  What is right for one is not for another. 

We walked around and read names.  Someone had left flowers near one of the victims names.  It made me wonder whether that was a regular occurrence, whether somewhere in a room at the Port Authority offices, there is a collection of items left in remembrance.  

The names of all of the victims who were killed that day are there; the people in the buildings and those who went in to save them, those in the Pentagon and those killed in Pennsylvania.  Some of the names sounded familiar; perhaps they had been singled out for their actions or their strength. 

The names that made me stop and take a breath were trailed by “and her unborn child”, like this one.  Many women died here.  Many of them were mothers.  None so clear to me as those women. 

Maybe to me, it helps to find one story to focus on in this post.  This is what I found out about one of the women who died “and her unborn child.” 

 Vanessa Lang Langer was 29 years old and from Yonkers, NY. (Born: Bronx, New York). Vanessa worked for Regus Plc on the 93rd floor in the South Tower of the World Trade Center.

On September 11, 2001, Vanessa, who was four months pregnant, escaped from the South Tower. However, her quest for survival had fallen short. She ran as the South Tower collapsed. She did not make it. Her body, and in it the small body of her unborn child, was pulled from the rubble of the fallen tower on September 24th, just ten feet from an alley between Towers IV and V.

Vanessa's husband, Tim, fell into a spiral of alcohol abuse after the death of his wife and unborn child. He died of liver failure in 2005. He was 34.

The phrase "and her unborn child" follows the names of the expectant mothers -- who also include Monica Rodriguez Smith, 35, of Seaford, who was working her last day before maternity leave when she was killed in the 1993 World Trade Center bombing, and that of Jennifer L. Howley, 34, of New Hyde Park, who was expecting her first child in January 2002 when she died in the towers.

Vanessa’s story is so sad in so many ways.  Not only was she killed as she was so close to escaping, the story goes on to destroy her husband as well, years later.  Vanessa’s mother has been a vocal advocate for the 9/11 commission and investigation of the disaster.  How far does the web of pain thread in her family, amongst her friends?  What might her child have gone on to do in his life?  How would this world be different?

Today let’s honor Vanessa, her child and her husband for all that might have been.

FAMILY TRAVEL: THE UNEXPECTED PIT STOP IN NYC

My husband is one of those people who hate surprises. Rather, he hates to be surprised but he loves surprising others. On our recent road trip to Virginia, my daughter and I found ourselves the recipients of a well planned, and well executed surprise.


It had been discussed that we would stay overnight at my parent’s house in southern Maine prior to leaving for Virginia. We had to deliver our cat to be cared for in our absence, and pick up a few things for the trip, plus it gave us a head start of a couple of hours and broke up the trip nicely. We had planned to leave at about 4:00 am, scooping my daughter up in her pj’s and setting her up so that she could sleep until Massachusetts or beyond. It was decided that we would try to minimize our stops by packing plenty of drinks, snacks, and sandwiches for the road. My husband and I talked about all of this.

That morning comes, the food and kid go into the car and off we go on our much anticipated vacation.

We drive easily through Massachusetts and Connecticut, familiar territory for me, having lived near Hartford for a dozen years. We pass through New York City, wrangling the earphones from my daughter and forcing her to pay attention to the sites, the buildings and things she doesn’t normally see in her daily life in Maine. Clear sailing over the George Washington Bridge and into New Jersey. Soon, though, my husband is looking anxious and fumbling for his notes. We get off at an exit near the Meadowlands. I ask why and he says he’s looking for a Park & Ride to switch drivers. I think to myself that we could simply pull over to switch drivers but I can tell he’s clearly up to something at this point. I think back over the prior couple of months and things start coming together. We just had our 1st anniversary and my daughter’s birthday was coming up and he had told us that he had a surprise for us that would occur between the two events. He had been especially interested in what I planned for each of us to wear on this day “to travel”. This is a man who rarely notices that I am wearing shoes, much less what they are. He had asked me recently what I would take if I was to be walking around a big city for the day. I knew something was up.

The Park & Ride is found and we park. He’s got a pack of index cards in his shirt pocket and hands one to Nola. It reads:

THIS IS NOT A TIME TO FUSS

JUST JUMP ONTO THE BUS

THERE’S A SIDE TRIP AHEAD OF US

AND THIS IS YOUR NOTICE



He makes sure we have comfortable shoes, a jacket, and my camera. We walk over to the tiny bus station, purchase tickets, and get on the bus marked “Lincoln Tunnel”.

Just before we arrive at Port Authority, a second card appears from the pocket:

NOW – GET OFF THE BUS

START THE WALK AHEAD OF US

PAY ATTENTION AND FOCUS

AND STEP OVER THE HOMELESS

We get off the bus. He directs us out onto the street. We’re mystified. My daughter has only seen New York in movies and for me it’s been about twenty years since my last trip. At the sight of the yellow cabs, the buildings, the noise and the people she exclaims “This is not like Maine.” And she’s grinning and amazed. The next card reads:

FEEL FREE TO GUESS AND DISCUSS

WHERE THIS TREK WILL TAKE US

A CIRCUS? A PALACE? MAYBE TEXAS?

JUST WALK - IT IS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS



So we walk. We pass street vendors and souvenier salesmen. We skirt around Times Square. We cross over 42nd and Broadway and take some photos. We detour through Bryant Park. My husband is steering us down 5th Avenue as he hands us the next clue:

NEARBY IS SOMEPLACE REAL FAMOUS

OUR LUNCH THERE WILL BE SCRUMPTIOUS; NOT TASTELESS

“PARTY OF FOUR” TELL THE WAITRESS

When I see that we’re stopping at the American Girl Store and going inside, I’m about to cry. This man has done this for my daughter. This man who is uncomfortable not knowing what happens next and hates crowds and dislikes spending money has made reservations for us to have lunch at the American Girl Café.

SINCE THERE’S NO ONE AS PRECIOUS

I WANT TODAY TO BE PRICELESS

AND FOR YOU TO FEEL LIKE A PRINCESS

OTHER GIRLS WOULD BE SO JEALOUS

The store is amazing, filled with dolls and clothes and accessories. And very PINK. There’s a hair salon and a hospital. Girls are clutching their dolls and packages. We check in at the concierge (yes, a concierge!) and make our way up to the Café on the 3rd floor. The line for the 11:00 seating is already getting long and we join in. Prior to seating, the host asks if my daughter would like to select a doll to dine with us, as there is place at the table for guest’s American Girl dolls. We hadn’t brought my daughter’s doll with us, given that we didn’t know we were coming here, I hadn’t thought to pack it and since my husband didn’t want to give away the surprise, he hadn’t taken it either. So she selected a doll to be our “fourth” in the party.

Lunch is a fixed price, except for special drinks. My daughter orders a strawberry smoothie.

The waiter is jovial and brings us a plate of cinnamon rolls, then a platter of veggies, dips, fruits, rolls, and cheese. The choice of entrees ranges from TIC TAC TOE pizza to chicken tenders to salads to a burger.

the cinnamon rolls

the coconut chicken salad

the chicken tenders and mac & cheese

the caprese chicken sandwich with sweet potato fries

The setting is white linen tablecloths, bright pink flowers and black accents everywhere. The whole place is so well done in the theme. The lampshades are whimsical with their flower designs. The walls are black and white striped.

Hot pink reigns throughout. All around us are little girls and their dolls, some families celebrating birthdays, some mother daughter pairs. Most are dressed up in some way.

The presentation for dessert is fabulous. A plate with a small heart shaped frosted cake, a butterfly cookie, and a small flower pot full of chocolate mousse. All of it was delicious and exciting to be part of.

We finish our meal, return the doll, and head back out to the street. The next card reads:

NOW I’LL MAKE YOU A PROMISE

THIS TRIP HAS AN ADDED BONUS

AGAIN – SOMEPLACE FAMOUS

CAN YOU GUESS THE NEXT ADDRESS WITH SUCCESS? NEED A COMPASS?

We start walking. My husband tells us that we have a bit of time to kill, but that we do have to be somewhere.

We walk to Rockerfeller Center and peek into the windows at the Today Show.

We go to Time Square and check out the Lego store and the Toys R Us with the giant ferris wheel inside.

We watch the mimes and I look for the Naked Cowboy. Soon we’re walking again and are surrounded by Broadway theaters. My daughter points out the sign for the Lion King and gushes about how she’s always wanted to see it. Somewhere along the way, another card:

CUTENESS + GOODNESS + SWEETNESS

YOU AS MY STEPDAUGHTER – I’M GRACIOUS

IT ALL MAKES ME EXTREMELY JOYOUS

MY LOVE FOR YOU & MOM IS MONSTROUS

Soon we’re at that theater that is home to the Lion King. Then the final cards, one for each of us, with tickets to the show that will begin shortly. The cards read:



For my daughter:

100 DAYS AGO I PROMISED YOU A SURPRISE EARLY BIRTHDAY GIFT YOU WOULD SHARE WITH YOUR MOM. I WOULD HAVE BEEN “LION” IF I WASN’T TELLING THE TRUTH. ENJOY YOUR GIFT!

For me:

100 DAYS AGO I PROMISED YOU A SURPRISE ANNIVERSARY GIFT YOU WOULD SHARE WITH NOLA. I WOULD HAVE BEEN “LION” IF I WASN’T TELLING THE TRUTH. ENJOY YOUR GIFT!

He ushers us to the entrance and helps with our bags. He’s off to see the King Tut exhibit (for $100 less, he points out) and we go in and find our great seats in the first row of the mezzanine.



The show is amazing. The actors, the props, the staging and movement. The music and scenery. For our first Broadway shows, this is a great choice, I think.



We meet up after the show and tell him all about it. We retrace our steps and get back on the bus, headed for New Jersey, where my husband has booked a hotel for us. We’re all pretty tired after the long and exciting day and enjoy a picnic of sandwiches on the bed in our room. In the morning we’re off to Virginia, to the next part of the road trip, to Williamsburg and all that holds.

Yes, this is a long post. Maybe I’m making up for the fact that I’ve been slacking with them lately. Really though, chronicling our adventures that day and the surprise of it all might just trigger the thought in you to do something for someone that takes them by surprise. Maybe you’ll just think about taking your daughter to lunch at the American Girl Café or to see a show on Broadway when you never have before, or even if you have done so many many times.



Do the unexpected. Surprise someone you love.