Motorcyclists are undoubtedly the coolest people on this planet, or so I thought when I was 4 years old. Because of that, I would imagine my tricycle as the large, loud, and powerful machine I admired so greatly. The pink pom-pom tassels were a massive contrast to the tough persona I took on while speeding along my imaginary highway. Said “highway” was the strip of concrete tracing along the backside of my childhood home and my leather gloves were the muddy, gardening gloves I found in our garage. If I could find a pair of black sunglasses in our kitchen to act as my goggles, that was a bonus. This type of imagination is essential for developing minds, as it prioritizes creativity and thoughtfulness; however, it can also wreak havoc on a developing body for the recklessly prone children…as I was.

I didn’t know how to do a backflip on the trampoline and I’d never been shown the proper way to learn but that didn’t stop me from trying, and hey the rug burn I got as a result made me look tough, so it was worth it (right…?). What would be even cooler is if I could do this flip off of this ledge onto the trampoline, thought my younger self as I teetered onto the wooden pole, splinters away from breaking in half. At the kitchen table, I would test how much I could lean back on the hind legs of the bar stool. 9/10 times I would fall backward and panic my parents, but that 1 time I leaned back without falling was worth it (again, worth it in the eyes of a 4-year-old). The motorcycle endeavors, as mentioned earlier, by far take the cake for poorly executed decisions.

In the stretch of about 100 yards, I would get as much speed as I could on this little tricycle, (training wheels and all), and just before the stairs, skid into a brake…and repeat. After a few practice runs one day, I decided that I was no longer just motorcycling down the highway, but I was in a high-speed chase. Moments before the stairs, I glanced back to see where the “police” were and just as I started trying to brake, the first wheel tipped over the stair; this tip quickly turned into a fairly dramatic crash landing. Humor me and picture that. A four-year-old with huge cheeks and even bigger pigtails, riding a tricycle and peddling as fast as I could, wearing gardening gloves 3x the size of my hands, acting like Vin Diesel from Fast and Furious, all while toppling down stairs because I had to check where the imaginary police were.

A broken tibia was the diagnosis. To be honest, I thought the cast was pretty cool. Even cooler was the pride I took in telling my friends that I broke my leg and didn’t even cry, (Ok I did cry but they didn’t know that.) I still take pride in the story, because how many people have actually broken their bones on tricycles? This moment in my life has definitely created one of the belief systems that I hold today: that kids have to learn on their own from time to time. Through trial and error, it became clear that maybe looking backward while going as fast as one can on three wheels isn’t the best idea, but what was a good idea was allowing my imagination to roam free, uninterrupted.

To the more overprotective parents: you want what’s best for your kids and that’s a wonderful thing. Them breaking a bone or scraping their knee is obviously not convenient (or comfortable) for either of you, so whatever you can do to avoid that is the game plan. But sometimes, kids just have to be kids. I learned from my mistake and I undoubtedly grew from it. Gone are the days of thinking it’s in any way a good idea to trust the rusty brakes of an old tricycle. I learned the consequences of ignoring my parents suggestion that I go a bit slower and take caution near the stairs. The broken bone served as a lesson that while creativity and curiosity are important, being safe and staying attentive are even more important. My parents created the atmosphere for me to learn by not hovering over me at all times, but the key is that my parents didn’t teach me this. I learned through my own mistakes. To this date, though my mistakes rarely involve tricycles and high speed chases, I feel more confident in my own ability to navigate through difficult situations and be independent in making the right decisions.

So to the mom I saw scolding her son at the park, sometimes you’ve just got to let him go down the slide backwards. He’ll either learn that it’s not the best thing to do, or he’ll think up an alternate way to have fun…on his own. It’s about trial and error and learning from our mistakes. It’s about letting kids be kids and allowing their imagination to roam.