What do you see, what to you think
When I sit with grand daughters at our local park looking at the sky and horizon over the waters of Green Bay, they can anticipate two questions. “What do you see?” And, “What do you think/know about what you see?”
“I see water and blue sky and clouds and sunshine, Gramps.”
The game is on. Once they tell me what they see, we begin a conversation and a push of their thinking. The question began with our understanding that there are no right or wrong answers. What do you see asks just that – tell me what YOU SEE. A good open-ended query. Once they tell me what they see out there in the distance, our conversation becomes focused on them and what they observe and know and are willing to consider.
“Tell me about the shape and color of the clouds. Are the clouds moving? Is the water moving? Any boats out there?”
For the next half hour, we talk about the weather. They describe the texture and shape of the clouds and learn about cumulus and cirrus clouds. They give the direction the clouds are moving and talk about wind and earth rotation. They notice calm water in the harbor and heavier ripples beyond the headland and talk about wind and current. They see a laker nearer the Upper Peninsula side of the Bay and talk about incoming and outgoing shipping and what might be aboard. They consider what early French explorers and Native Americans might have seen centuries ago on these waters and if they would recognize this place today.
Or, we might have spent the half hour lying on our backs looking at clouds to see the cloud shapes form faces and fish and sailing ships and pillows for sleeping. “I see a face, Gramps. Eyes and a mouth and lots of frizzy hair. She’s smiling.”
“Tell me about that face,” I say. “What is she smiling about? Tell me a story, Izz.”
And, off we go on a voyage of imagination. Izz develops a character and short plot that change with the shifting shapes of the clouds. We have learned to end our cloud-based stories with a single word. “Poof.” The cloud shapes are gone.
Tell me what you see and tell me what you think/know about what you see are great questions for anywhere and anytime. They are powerful starters for children who may be timid or who worry about making a mistake. The lack of a right or wrong response frees them to talk about what THEY SEE and what THEY THINK.
I use the same question when helping my wife line up a putt on the golf course. “What do you see?” And, “How will what you see affect your putt?” As always, I have the questions, but not the answers. When she rolls the putt 16 feet into the cup, the smiles are all hers. Just as the Izz’s observations and imaginative story about clouds are all hers.
Good questions are winners every time.