Glamping With My Six Year Old

I stopped writing in April after my startup Doyobi was acquired. I needed time to process, to settle into my new role as Chief Education Officer at ErudiFi, and specifically for this newsletter, to figure out why I write.

I write because it’s cathartic. There are thoughts and ideas and emotions I need to let out. I write because it helps me process, understand and remember things I’ve read. And most of all, I write because there’s a certain worldview (you can call it my POV) I’m hoping more people can come round to. In other words, I write because I seek to influence. Not gonna lie.

Explaining this worldview is an essay in itself, but an easy way to describe it is human flourishing. So many people simply exist. They are living, but they are not thriving. I acknowledge writing about human flourishing comes from a position of privilege. Many people don’t have the luxury of even thinking about flourishing because they are too busy trying to survive. I get that, but I also believe everyone deserves to flourish. My work for the last ten years has focused on helping kids thrive, but I am up against an entire system entrenched over the last forty years. A system that prioritises rote learning and standardised testing. A big part of my work is trying to change parents’ mindsets, but as my colleague at EveryChild puts it, parents behave according to how the system works. The way to change behaviour is to change the system, which is what EveryChild is advocating for.

Another way I hope to change parents’ mindsets is to model the ‘right’ behaviour. ‘Right’ not because any other way is wrong. ‘Right’ because it prioritises freedom and happiness for the child. More than anything else, I want my kids to be happy. Today. Everyday. Every parent wants their child to be happy. The difference is most parents sacrifice present happiness for a future happiness that is vague and uncertain. Vague because it’s what parents think will make their child happy - typically ‘success’ as measured by academic credentials, professional status, and personal wealth. Uncertain because the future of work is changing so fast there are no guarantees a child today will be ‘successful’ twenty years from now even if they went to the most prestigious schools.

I spent the last couple of days glamping with my youngest son, Quinn, in the mountains of Hsinchu, Taiwan. No devices (for him), no cartoons, no siblings. Just hiking, roasting marshmallows, doing craftwork, gazing at stars, breathing the mountain air, and hanging out with his dad.

At a time when tuition centers are offering primary school preparatory classes for five-year-olds, I choose this for Quinn. I like to believe he is much happier exploring the woods than being confined within the four walls of a classroom. Most parents will not make the same choice. They rather their child get a leg up on other kids, childhood be damned.

Not only is Quinn carefree and happy in nature, it’s also great for our relationship. Spending 24/7 with him doing things we never get to do living in a big city is incredible. As one friend commented, “So much quality time with Quinn, I love it. It’s really special to see. Speaking as someone who has a very close relationship with my dad, these memories will be remembered.”

For adults, too, being in nature recuperates. I’ve been a city dweller all my life, and I know what urban life is like. Many people are stressed at work, borderline depressed, feeling like they are stuck running in a hamster wheel. The extent of their relationship with their child is asking them about school work, giving them mock exam papers, and shuttling them from home to tuition to home.

I started spending more time in nature right before the pandemic when I ran an outdoor camp for kids in Karuizawa, and I fell in love with the mountains. Breathing fresh air, enjoying the cool weather, hiking trails and rivers, and, yes, roasting marshmallows over a campfire. I like to tell people being in nature is good for the mind, body and soul.

After Doyobi got acquired, I started Yamayama Travel, a travel company focused on outdoor adventures for families. Yama means mountain in Japanese. Yamayama started with a forest camp at the foot of Mount Asama in Karuizawa, and a ski camp at Madarao Mountain Resort in Iiyama. We love nature in all its seasons. Spring buds, summer blooms, autumn leaves and winter snow. Yamayama 山々 also means very much wanting to do something one cannot. I know outdoor adventures can seem forbidding and somewhat scary for city folks. With Yamayama Travel, I hope to make being outdoors a way of life, even for folks who live in high rise and take the subway to work.

Check out our upcoming Mindfulness in Nature camp in Jeju at the end of November, and ski trips in Shiga Kogen (Dec), Tangram and Akakura Onsen (March 2025).

If you enjoyed this week’s issue, subscribe to Education & Catastrophe now and follow me on LinkedIn and Instagram.