Formation

Author: Priya Parker, The Art of Gathering

I recently asked Group Lifers what you’re grappling with, and Octavia wrote this:

“I’m in a season of gathering with lots of kids ages 6 to 16. I keep saying ‘adults only,’ but I actually want multigenerational gatherings that include kids, don’t destroy my house, and still let the adults relax. I’ve hired help, planned stations, even had my 9-year-old ‘host’ the kids. And it feels like both too much and not enough. Please help”…

…Gathering intergenerationally can be complex. And by “intergenerational,” I don’t just mean grandparents and toddlers. I mean the very real reality of adults in their thirties to fifties raising 5- to 20-year-olds who want to actually participate in a gathering without spending the whole time chasing their children, and adults without children who are also very up for connection and relationship to young people.

When we assume adults don’t want to engage with kids, or that kids can’t meaningfully engage with adults, everyone loses. Parents end up exhausted and isolated, adults without kids hang on the sidelines, and young people aren’t met by the wider community. When we create small on-ramps for kids to rise to the occasion, and small invitations for adults to have a great interaction with a young person, the community also becomes both more alive, and more sustainable.

A crucial skill of group life is learning how to design for connection across difference. And though we may not think about “age” as a difference, it is. And, when we spend just a little time thinking about what kind of threads and permissions we give people to create a different kind of interaction, the entire group is better (and more resilient) for it.

Four tiny, doable, surprisingly effective moves that help kids be part of the gathering without becoming the gathering itself

1. Give kids a meaningful role they can do self-sufficiently — one that’s fun, they’re capable of, and generative to the group.

A meaningful role is a real contribution a kid can do with pride, mostly on their own, and helps the group. We practiced this together with a real scenario: After reading my essay on this topic this fall, a woman wrote to me about taking her 12-year-old daughter to a National Charity League meeting. She didn’t want her daughter silently parked in the corner, but she also didn’t want to make the meeting about her. So I asked GROUP LIFERS in the chat to advise this parent: What could the daughter do that’s pro-social, generative to the gathering, and not annoying to the adults? Folks got a chance to think about practically what they would do, or suggest she do. What did the woman end up doing? She handed her daughter a small reporter’s notebook and invited her to ask members one simple question, “Why did you join?” She told me that her daughter learned a ton about what this thing was and why it mattered to her mother and that people were delighted by her question.

2. Practice conversational attunement. Give kids hooks to follow along.

Kids don’t always need their own separate conversation. Often they just need one small hook or one bit of context so they can stay connected instead of drifting into boredom or chaos. I was recently at a friend’s house talking to her about her flour business. I could see my seven-year-old drifting off, even though I knew this would be an interesting conversation for her. I paused and asked her if she got what we were talking about. When she said no, I gave a quick on-ramp. I reminded her of cookies we’d baked with our friend’s flour, the farmer’s markets we’d attended, and then explained how she now had to figure out how to get six local bakeries to use her local flour instead of the corporate flour they use. “How do you convince six bakeries to change their flour?” And then I let the adult conversation keep moving. The point isn’t to make it kid-centered, it’s to make it followable…

3. Ask a cross-generational “Magical Question.”

A few weeks ago, I sat at our dinner table with my kids and nephew. They were spiraling into a movie-night argument when I redirected: “Let’s ask a magical question instead.” (Close readers will know that I define a “Magical Question” as a question you ask in a group that everyone is interested in answering, and everyone is interested in hearing each other’s answers.) My daughter suggested one: “What’s the naughtiest thing you’ve ever done that was worth it?” We all cracked up. And were very interested in each other’s answers. And it changed the night. We took turns telling stories others hadn’t heard. It was honest, fun, and slightly transgressive! Kids are funny. They also like learning skills. It is a learnable skill to formulate a magical question for a group. It is also a learnable skill to tell a story in a group. And, it takes practice.

4. Use objects to connect across age.

My elderly father was visiting recently. I’ve been thinking about how to help him more meaningfully connect with my kids as they grow. My daughter had recently been asked by her teachers to bring in three objects to share with the class that reflected a part of her. I mentioned the assignment to my father, and asked him if he might want to do the same: pack three objects in his suitcase that represented pieces of him he wanted the kids to know. He did it with gusto. And, it kind of organized the visit. Every day he would pull out one object from a paper bag he brought with him, and share what it was and the story behind it. It became a daily ritual between them. He brought a fuchsia crystal and explained how, as a boy, he’d walk dried riverbeds with his father, who had the uncanny ability to spot which rocks held crystals. My kids were transfixed as he showed them one such rock. The objects gave them a shared focus across their very different ages.