At my recent birthday party, several of my grandchildren spoke about how I had impacted their lives. One common theme was that they mentioned that I had taught them to ride a bike and, for those old enough, how to drive. Even my own children, now grown up with families of their own, mentioned the bike and driving lessons.
I never realized how important my role was in their ability to ride a bike and drive a car. As I thought about it, the meaning became clear.
When you’re teaching someone to ride a bike, first you teach them the basics – how to get on, how to hold the handlebars, how to brake. Then you work with them on balance and steering. Finally, you run alongside them as they’re testing their skills.
But there comes the most important time – when you let go and see if they can ride on their own. You see whether they have gained their balance and are ready to navigate on their own. There is a significant risk they will fall, but that risk is inherent in the bike riding learning process. They fall off – and hopefully then get back on.
For the teacher – in this case, me—the critical point is, when do you let go. When have they reached the point where they can ride by themselves without me holding on. What if I’ve misjudged, and they’re really not ready?
The same principle applies to learning to drive a car. The student driver must learn the basics – how to hold the steering wheel, how to signal, how to brake – but then there comes a time when you have to let them actually drive. And at each stage of the process – the empty parking lot, the local streets, the crowded streets, and finally the highway – you have to let go some more and have confidence that they will stop at a stop sign or red light and know what to do. It sounds easier than it is.
For both learning how to ride a bike and how to drive a car, there is a risk they will fail – perhaps with serious consequences. But by letting go, you show them that you think they are capable of doing this on their own, that you trust them, and that they can trust their own judgment and skills.
It’s that dual message – you’re now on your own, and I trust you — that is so important to someone still growing up, whether they’re 5 or 15. This is what they learn when they’re learning how to ride a bike or drive a car, and in both cases, for them it’s a life-changing time.
When I mentioned all this to my 50-plus-year-old son, he told me he remembered both times then I let go. He was 5 when I ran after him, holding his bike as he pedaled and gained his balance. And then one day I let go, and he was riding on his own. He had trouble stopping, but I knew there was a slight upgrade ahead, and that the bike would slow down on its own.
I taught this same son how to drive, and surprisingly he recalled the very time that he pulled into a highway and had to drive in traffic. I remember that exact moment as well.
In a sense, knowing how and when to let go is what parenting and grandparenting is all about. As a parent, and perhaps less so as a grandparent, letting go of the growing child is a challenge. When are they old enough and responsible enough so you can let go of their hand when you’re crossing a street? When do you feel comfortable letting them go the bathroom themselves in a restaurant? Leaving a 17- or 18-year-old off at college is commonly recognized as a turning point for both “children” and parents – in many if not most cases, more for the parents.
I was a bit surprised when the grandchildren mentioned bike riding and driving as points in their lives when I played such an important role. But now I understand that, from the child or grandchild’s point of view, how teaching these skills so they can ride and drive on their own, with all the responsibility and freedom, are defining moments for them.
Wayne Pines is a health care consultant living in Chevy Chase.
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