April 24, 2026
Brene Brown and Adam Grant—two of my favorite thinkers—often talk about the power of “Yes, AND” instead of “Yes, BUT.”
Last week, my six-year-old showed me what that looks like.
There’s a drainage easement in our neighborhood that she begged to visit after school.
Apparently, she calls it “U Pond.”
So down—her leading the way on her scooter, helmet on, backpack ready—like a tiny expedition leader.
It’s mid April in New Hampshire, so “U Pond” is quite swampy—a mix of spring rain and melting snow. She had a mission and she got to work immediately, collecting treasures for her imaginary fairies.
On the way home, still fully in expedition-leader mode, she insisted we stop at “Rocky Pit.” Which, I learned, is her name for the riprap along the side of the road.
She climbed, balanced, explored—and tried to convince me we should go explore in the woods. (We didn’t. It was almost dinner time.)
Heading back up the hill—me carrying the scooter now, of course—she kept the adventure going, walking along the road finding pieces of bark, moss, and a few “special” rocks for the imagined fairy world she was building.
When we passed another couple walking, I shared her newly found treasures with them. She beamed.
Almost home (and now at the top of the hill), she handed everything to me so she could hop back on her scooter—racing ahead and narrating the plan for next time:
Back to U Pond. Then Rocky Pit. And a new place she’s apparently named—“Big Hill.”
I couldn’t help but smile at both her joy and her sense of purpose.
It reminded me of something Jonathan Haidt writes in The Anxious Generation. Play isn’t just fun.
“Play is the work of childhood, and all young mammals have the same job: Wire up your brain by playing vigorously and often.”
Watching her, I realized something I’m still sitting with:
If she can turn stormwater infrastructure into something magical for an hour after school…
Haidt is right that it’s not just about taking screens away—it’s also about what we’re making room for.
Yes–less screens. And also…more of this:
More nature. More imagination. More play they lead themselves.
She uses screens—that’s the world she’s growing up in. (Her sisters were literally at home on screens while this was happening.)
But moments like this remind me how much she needs the other world too— the one she builds herself.
And that’s what I love about camp— it makes space for that world.