Rekindling Curiosity
A Prefect’s call to rediscover wonder in the age of knowing.
Each week, our Student Leaders share their insights with their peers in Assembly.
Nostalgia is a feeling I experience time and time again, leading me to ask what made being a child feel so special. After turning 17 last week, I think the answer lies within the curiosity that defined those years; a child’s innate propensity to ask questions and look at everything with a sense of wonder.
But sadly, I fear our spark of curiosity is dimming, leading to many unintended consequences: a loss of joy, a loss of critical thinking, and settling for mediocrity. So here I am, questioning how we can reignite it.
Perhaps you too can relate? Research points to one common cause: the gradual switch from learning to knowing. Those of us who were curious as a child asked, “Why” to everything. But with being exposed to new experiences (lessons, schooling, phones, emotions) came a shift in our focus … from learning to knowing.
As we got older, the little things no longer seemed as exciting. The buildings did not seem as big, the clouds in the sky were not as fascinating, and our achievements and milestones seemed a little less significant. To a degree, we decided that our learning was done ... and we put curiosity to one side.
But I am confident we can cultivate this skill once again. After all, it is innate. We have not lost it entirely – we just need to unearth it, to reignite its spark. Perhaps you’ll join me in trying to do so.
I’ve found the best way to start is by letting yourself be bored. Let me explain with a story. A year ago, I was sitting on the edge of Northbridge Marina, ready for a day out in Middle Harbour. Everything was simply divine. That is, until I looked over the edge of the platform to try to see the bottom of the ocean and suddenly, my phone fell from my hand into the deep, deep sea. Despite my attempted rescue mission (jumping into the water fully clothed), the phone was gone. For the next four months, I was going to be phoneless, and the consequences were looking grim.
But during that time, as I caught the train, and observed how people spoke, interacted, and dressed, I took the time to wonder where they were going and where they had come from. I became more attuned to the different colours at each sunrise and questioned why the summer light looked so different to wintertime. I learnt how to deal with awkward silences. And dinner tasted so much more scrumptious when I was just eating dinner.
No longer was my mind constantly stimulated. Instead, it experienced moments of stillness and boredom. And from there, curiosity was reborn, I was starting to wonder again.
So, as I try to learn to be more curious, I invite you to do the same. You don’t have to start by throwing your phone in the water. Maybe you can begin by asking some questions. Here are some examples from my friends:
- Tess often wonders if our senses are truly reliable
- Jemima is intrigued by the afterlife
- Kyla often questions what her dreams reveal about her present
- Elsie wonders constantly what she is going to do when the Year 12 cohort leaves.
Perhaps we can continue asking more of these questions. Perhaps, little by little, we will see the world like we did when we were young.
It is not binary. We can’t switch off all the distractions like phones, but we can redefine our relationship with curiosity. Because after all, curiosity is the engine behind all critical thinking, empathy and the understanding of others.
And perhaps, at a time like this, when nations are failing to understand each other, curiosity could be the saviour. Perhaps it can all begin by asking, “Why”?