Was Your Childhood Really So Boring?

The other day, a friend told me her childhood was boring. I’ve been thinking up questions to lead her to discover her childhood wasn’t boring after all.

First, when you say your childhood was boring, were you bored, or are you saying telling your story today would be boring? A childhood recalled as a time of boredom probably had more incidents than my friend remembers. I already know of one episode that brought out a fiendish streak in her, comical because so out of character. As for the stories being too boring to tell, I’ve never found it to be the case.

I’d ask about any moments of triumph. I don’t necessarily mean academic prizes or other signs of public recognition, although if they were awarded to you, they’d count. I’m thinking of a smile or other gesture from a parent or teacher for something the world might consider trivial but that was important enough to lodge in your memory. Or maybe you remember the satisfaction you got from accomplishing a task you’d previously thought impossible.

On a more negative note, was there an incident where you got one over on someone you disliked or who disliked you? Did you win a fight? Did you turn an insult back on an enemy?

Then, can you recall a moment of shame? It might be that you let a friend down. It might be telling a lie, even though the world saw you as exactingly honest. You might have hit someone in a fit of rage. The purpose of recalling a moment of shame is to unlock memories we’ve concealed from ourselves.

I’d ask about a moment of beauty. It might have been staring out a window and seeing a deer, a wild rabbit or other creature. It might have been on a trip and hearing music unlike any you’d heard before. It might be the sudden awareness of a friend’s pleasing appearance. Once in a great while, we might see something beautiful in someone we’d always taken for granted, such as a friend or teacher or relative.

Then there are those moments when you suddenly perceive ugliness or unpleasantness. I believe I developed aesthetic judgments only as I got older. Until then, I didn’t perceive ugliness unless some moral shift occurred. My question refers to the first time a teacher or parent did or said something unfair about you, or the first time a friend you trusted let you down. I’m picturing an angry, sneering expression on a face that, before, had seemed to look on you with favor.

Did you have any artistic aspirations in painting, music, theater, sculpture, writing, dance? If so, can you remember a painting or drawing you did and felt good about? How do you feel about it today? What about a musical performance, whether done on your own or as part of a band or other group?

Was there a place you thought of as your refuge? The bedroom comes to mind, but it might have been an opening in nearby woods, a hill overlooking the area around your home, a place of religion, a friend’s home, a classroom, even a bus you regularly took. What was it about that refuge that made you feel safe and relaxed? What do you think you were escaping from?

Do you remember the first time you ventured on your own outside your neighborhood? Was it frightening or exhilarating? Or both, or neither? Did it lead to more adventures or to more time spent around home?

Where did your family go on the first vacation you remember? What do you recall from that trip? Were there other trips that have stayed in the memory? If so, what was it about them that made them stay with you? The first trips I remember were from our new home in one region of my home country to the region where everyone in my family was born and my parents raised. Recalling those trips brings up a host of memories and feelings. Then there’s the first trip I remember that wasn’t to relatives. What sticks in my memory is an isolated, unused pier stretching out into the distant water.

Do you remember your first conscious reaction to organized religion? Was it favorable or skeptical? Why were you susceptible to religious practices or, if you weren’t, why do you think you found the notion of God unconvincing? Has your attitude toward religion changed?

Do you remember the first thing you bought? I think my first pocket-money purchase was the single of Peter, Paul and Mary interpreting Bob Dylan’s “Blowin’ in the Wind,” a record I’ve loved ever since. It was my first transaction, the first time I consciously paid a cost for something I wanted—my first act of empowerment. For you, it could have been a doll’s house accessory, a poster, a baseball, a hat, a book.

How do you remember the first or the worst time you got injured? How did the people around you react? Were they sympathetic or harsh—“don’t be such a baby”? How do you think you handled it? Did the accident have enduring consequences?

Was someone you cared about injured during your childhood? How did you react?

I’d ask about a favorite teacher. Was it because they instilled new confidence in you? Was it because they were kind to you when other teachers were indifferent, or worse? Was it simply because they were charming? My first teacher, when assigning the task of writing a sentence, had the class draw a picture to go with it. I loved to draw, so I put up with writing sentences in order to see her radiant smile on seeing my sketches.

Was there a really bad teacher in your childhood? I had a science teacher whom I remember as sadistic, the exact word that one of his colleagues would use about him years later. However, his antics were hilarious, even though at my and other students’ expense, and his classes rarely boring. Still, he cemented in my head the dislike of science I carried for years.

Do you remember riding a bicycle? What was it like? Did you start driving a car at a young age? How did that work out?

In childhood, did you feel trapped? Can you identify the reasons? Or do you remember childhood as a time of freedom, despite bedtimes and school work? What made it feel free?

Did you ever rebel? How? By staying all day in your bedroom, protesting your parents’ plan for a trip, running away?

If you were raised by a single parent, did you feel part of a community of single-parent households? Or did you feel disadvantaged? Or both? Or neither? So many questions arise from different family compositions.

What weather events do you remember, such as a snowstorm, a hurricane or huge thunderstorm that shook you? Did you revel in the snow or resent it for making paths slippery? If a hurricane, where did you hide? Most of us have lived through many thunderstorms. Why did any stay in your memory?

What was your first job? Did it feel like an obligation, or did it give you a sense of importance? If your family own a business, did you get involved, paid or otherwise? If you never had a job during childhood, why was that? Do you regret it, or are you glad? Either way, why?

What national or world events do you associate with your childhood, such as JFK’s assassination, Nixon’s resignation, Reagan’s America or Thatcher’s Britain, 9/11 or (in Britain) 7/7, Obama’s election as president? It could be any event outside your circle of family and friends. Did it change you in some way? Did it make you more conscious than before of the larger world? If so, did that feel like a good or a bad thing?

What was your favorite television program? Looking back, what does it say about you at that time? Same for a favorite book, painting, photograph, piece of music.

What did you enjoy eating? Of course, I’m thinking of Marcel Proust, who launched a series of long novels on recalling childhood madeleine cakes. What memories do your favorite foods back then evoke?

Can you think back to something that saddened you, but that feels different today? Perhaps it was an anecdote about someone close to you that made you feel bad for them but that now makes you realize it showed their strength. Perhaps it was a sad song that now moves you with something like joy.

Were you shy? If so, why? Or if outgoing, what gave you the confidence that other children lacked?

Do you remember a prank you played? Did you get a laugh out of it? Or did it go belly-up? Did you feel bad for the prank’s victim, or did they see the humor?

Do you remember meeting for the first time someone who came to matter to you? What do you recall about that meeting?

How about saying goodbye to someone you cared deeply about? Maybe they were moving out of town, going on to college, joining the military. What do you recall about that moment?

I hope these questions bring out vivid memories. We aren’t all born into famous families and, by definition, few of us were child prodigies. But in my experience, everyone can be interesting, and what makes us interesting often goes back to childhood.