Aceh Tsunami: Monuments help to remember disasters – and forget them

20 years have passed since the Aceh tsunami, leaving deep scars on Indonesia, especially for those directly affected. Aceh was also recovering from a three-decade armed conflict between the Free Aceh Movement and the national government

Throughout December 2024, The Conversation Indonesia, in collaboration with academics, is publishing a special edition honouring the 20 years of efforts to rebuild Aceh. We hope this series of articles preserves our collective memory while inspiring reflection on the journey of recovery and peace in the land of ‘Serambi Makkah.’

In the aftermath of the 2004 Indian Ocean Tsunami, the Acehnese interpreted the disaster in various ways.

Initially, the tsunami was interpreted as a punishment or warning from God. Over time, a collective interpretation of the disaster emerged: “The tsunami as a test from God”.

This later narrative was compelling enough to accelerate the post-tsunami recovery process. People in Aceh moved past the tsunami trauma by believing their deceased family members were martyrs who deserved a place in heaven, while those who survived were given the opportunity by Allah to live better lives.

The process of forming this narrative is called memory canonisation. It occurs when the government and ruling elites impose a specific interpretation or narrative of a disaster, including what to remember and how to remember it.

Memory canonisation is evident in the creation of disaster monuments and commemoration events, including in Aceh. Unfortunately, many survivors feel detached from the monuments because they do not evoke personal memories of the tsunami.

Memory canonisation through monuments

Constructing permanent memorials after a disaster is a common trend in a modern society. Many tsunami monuments exist in Aceh, and some have even become tourist destinations.

Tsunami monuments can be divided into two categories based on the construction.

First, monuments built from tsunami debris that are deliberately maintained, modified, or enhanced with certain elements. Examples include the stranded electric-generator ship (the PLTD Apung), the ship on the top of a house in Lampulo, and the tsunami debris at the Rahmatullah Mosque in Lampuuk.

Second, monuments intentionally designed and constructed as new buildings after the tsunami, such as the Aceh Tsunami Museum and the Tsunami Poles erected in over 50 locations across Banda Aceh and Aceh Besar.

Historical images of the 2004 Aceh tsunami displayed at the Aceh Tsunami Museum. Rizki Mulana/shutterstock.

The establishment of disaster memorials is always political. Disaster monuments represent how governments and elites promote specific interpretations as dominant. This is achieved through specific architectural designs or curated narratives in the monument.

However, the memory canonisation process is never final. Once established, each disaster monument becomes a place to form, strengthen, modify, alter, and revise the interpretation of the disaster.

How monuments affect Acehnese memory – or not

In a post-disaster situation, the affected community faces ‘push and pull’ between remembering and forgetting the disaster. They must let go of trauma to move forward while preserving disaster memories to honour victims and enhance future preparedness.

The memory of the disaster resides in the back of their mind, but not constantly remembered in everyday life. It will move to the surface as an active memory only when triggered by certain factors, such as a place, object, or event. This memory closely relates to how the survivors give meaning to the disaster.

In everyday life, survivors interact with disaster monuments in various contexts –for instance, as a source of income or a place for leisure. Thus, the meaning of a disaster monument can vary, even becoming completely unrelated to its creators’ narratives and original goals.

Preliminary findings from my ongoing research in Aceh show that among survivors, tsunami memories are often triggered by specific places associated with their experiences. These include the house where they found safety, the coastal area that swept them away, or the ruins of their homes. I refer to these as “the forgotten memories of the tsunami.”

Since many tsunami monuments were erected without involving local residents, they feel barely connected, let alone have a sense of ownership, towards the monuments. For survivors, the established monuments do not trigger their memories of the tsunami.

Disaster monument for disaster education

Today, 20 years after the tsunami, we can still meet survivors who offer valuable and insightful stories about starting over, rebuilding their homes and villages, and cultivating cultural awareness about tsunamis while embracing vulnerability.

However, once these survivors pass away, future generations will lose access to primary sources of learning about the tsunami. This includes new inhabitants who moved to Aceh after the tsunami and rent houses in coastal areas.

The names of the 2004 Aceh tsunami victims are written on one of the memorials. Sofyaaaa/shutterstock.

They will, therefore, depend on the tsunami memorials around them, though many have been neglected.

To address these risks, I recommend two measures.

First, we can document the “forgotten tsunami memories” creatively through formats like documentary videos, comics, photos, social media content, or other mediums that highlight stories offering insights into disaster risk reduction and education for younger generations.

Second, we must encourage sustainable and meaningful interactions between locals and tsunami monuments. Disaster memorials serve their purpose best — preserving the memory of the disaster and educating younger generations — when they remain relevant to residents’ daily activities.

Locals’ active participation is essential in Aceh, including school visits and involvement in preservation and curation efforts.

These measures aim to foster a sense of ownership among residents of the tsunami monuments in their neighbourhoods. They encourage voluntary maintenance of the monuments and make them integral to disaster risk reduction efforts. Läs mer…

Acehnese women: Crucial role in peacebuilding overlooked, discriminated by local regulations

20 years have passed since the Aceh tsunami, leaving deep scars on Indonesia, especially for those directly affected. Aceh was also recovering from a three-decade armed conflict between the Free Aceh Movement and the national government

Throughout December 2024, The Conversation Indonesia, in collaboration with academics, is publishing a special edition honouring the 20 years of efforts to rebuild Aceh. We hope this series of articles preserves our collective memory while inspiring reflection on the journey of recovery and peace in the land of ‘Serambi Makkah.’

Acehnese women have long been integral to the history of their region, particularly after the 2004 tsunami, one of Indonesia’s deadliest natural disasters, and the Helsinki Peace Agreement, which ended years of conflict between the government and the Free Aceh Movement (GAM). Despite their crucial contributions to rebuilding and fostering peace, women in Aceh still face major challenges in ensuring that the peace achieved includes their needs and rights.

Their efforts often go unrecognised, and the policies that shape their lives fail to address their realities. In some cases, these policies actively discriminate against women.

Policies that marginalise women

As the conflict in Aceh escalated into firefights, lasting over a decade of 1989-2005, many women became primary breadwinners, ensuring their children’s education and providing emotional support to their families. Around 2,000 women actively participated in the fight, picking up arms as combatants.

In the years following the 2004 tsunami and the 2005 Helsinki Peace Agreement, some progress was made to include women in policy-making processes. However, the outcomes have been unremarkable. Policies implemented after the peace agreement rarely put women’s needs first or acknowledged their efforts.

For instance, Aceh’s 2009 Qanun–a regulation unique to Aceh–aims to promote women’s empowerment and protection, but its implementation remains weak. Women have little say in decision-making, and their representation in province, district, and city-level leadership posts remains minimal.

Here are some examples of how women in Aceh have been sidelined in decision-making, discriminated against in their daily lives and frequently harassed:

Absent in politics: In 2017, only one woman was elected deputy mayor among 23 district leaders. Similarly, just two out of 65 top provincial officials were women. These figures reflect a stark imbalance, especially when compared to the substantial roles women played during the conflict and its aftermath.
Clothing guideline: Regulations ostensibly implemented under Islamic law often restrict women’s freedoms. For example, West Aceh’s 2010 regulation requires women to wear skirts, prohibiting the use of trousers despite their roots in traditional Aceh’s attire. Women become subjects of public inspection, and violations ends with them not receiving public services that should be open for any citizens.
Discriminatory norms and limiting women’s freedom: In Lhokseumawe, a 2013 circular mandated women ride sidesaddle on motorcycles, even though such a position increases the risk of accidents. Similarly, a 2018 directive in Bireuen forbids women from being served in cafes after 9 PM without a male guardian and bans women from sitting with unrelated men.
Gender-based violence: Aceh also faces high rates of violence against women. Between 2019 and 2023, more than 5,000 cases of violence against women and children were reported. Shockingly, Aceh has the highest number of rape cases in Indonesia.
Insufficient support for victims: Despite the severity of the issue, support for survivors remains inadequate. From 2020 to 2024, only 0.12% of Aceh’s provincial budget was allocated to the Women’s Empowerment and Child Protection Agency. While this allocation has increased slightly over time, it is still lacking to address the needs of women, particularly those who suffered from violence and the conflict.

Young women as the agents of change

The younger generation, particularly Gen Z, offers hope for a brighter future. Acehnese young women are increasingly leveraging digital platforms to advocate for their rights and challenge societal norms. Their ability to connect with global networks gives them tools to amplify their voices and demand equality.

This new generation has the potential to drive meaningful change, but they face entrenched patriarchal norms that require dismantling. To achieve substantial peace and gender equality in Aceh, empowering young women as agents of change and supporting their initiatives to create a more inclusive society is essential.

To ensure that Aceh achieves lasting peace that benefits everyone, several steps are necessary:

Inclusive policy-making: Women must be included in all decision-making processes, especially those related to peacebuilding and post-conflict recovery.
Reforming discriminatory policies: Laws restricting women’s rights must be repealed to create a more equitable environment.
Comprehensive support for survivors: Addressing the needs of survivors of violence through legal, medical, and psychological support is crucial.
Strengthening Legal Protections: Laws like Aceh’s Qanun Jinayah (Islamic Criminal Law) should be revised better to protect women, particularly victims of sexual violence.

Acehnese women have demonstrated remarkable resilience and strength throughout the region’s history. By ensuring their voices are heard and their rights respected, Aceh can move closer to achieving true peace and equality for all its citizens. Läs mer…

Changing the narrative about athlete mothers’ comeback stories

Being an athlete while also being a mother often comes with challenges. On top of their professional and parental duties, athlete mothers often contend with inequalities and media coverage that reinforces stereotypes.

Pregnancy and motherhood are reasons why some sportswomen end their careers. Many athletes grapple with sport organizations that are unprepared to support them as mothers, alongside cultural pressures to focus on just motherhood. Yet, many athletes have pursued both motherhood and their athletic ambitions and gained professional success and media attention.

Acceptance of motherhood and sport careers is shifting. The 2024 Paris Olympics supported athlete mothers by providing spaces for child care, and mothers in the Professional Women’s Hockey League are gaining media attention.

Media coverage of athlete mothers has been increasingly showcasing how they can have successful sporting careers. It also helps to expose inequalities as they push for support for their careers. These include limited information about training during pregnancy and postpartum, lack of support for family planning, inadequate maternity and child-care policies and insufficient support for identity and career changes.

As part of our recently published research, we analyzed news and sport media coverage of 2020 and 2024 Olympic athlete mothers to reveal several themes. We also explored media reports about athlete mothers’ sport comebacks.

Athlete mothers

Our research reveals that sport media portrays the idea of being both an athlete and a mother as possible, but with challenges. Athlete mothers must often contend with social expectations that women should do everything for their children, including sacrificing career ambitions.

Our research on media stories of boxer Mandy Bujold’s and basketball player Kim Gaucher’s 2020 Olympic journeys highlights how motherhood can be a penalty in sport.

Bujold was returning to top form after giving birth, but the pandemic forced the International Boxing Federation to cancel all upcoming Olympic qualification events. They subsequently reverted to pre-pandemic rankings, which excluded Bujold, as she was on maternity leave.

Gaucher was told there would be no children allowed at the Games. She was forced to choose between competing at the Olympics or staying home to breastfeed her daughter. After telling their stories in the media and hiring a lawyer, Bujold retained her ranking and Gaucher was able to bring her daughter to the Olympics to breastfeed her.

These two examples highlight the inequitable treatment and stress athlete mothers have to face. They also show that motherhood and sport are compatible. When the media elevates sportswomen’s fight for maternity rights, change is possible and celebrated.

A CBC news report on Canadian athlete mothers’ legal battle to compete at the Tokyo Olympics.

Super moms

Our research on Olympic athlete mothers’ sporting comebacks shows media stories featuring “super mums” as the stars. Super mums are portrayed as selfless providers of child-care who excel in motherhood and their athletic careers. The super mum character in media stories celebrates these sportswomen’s accomplishments.

However, the super mum narrative can also ignore the difficulties of balancing motherhood and sport without support. There is a lack of postpartum training guidelines among national and international sporting bodies, and lack of funding to support athlete mothers.

The expectation that they have to be able to “do it all” can make any mother feel inadequate.

Canadian freestyle skier Cassie Sharpe recently spoke about the pressure this narrative places on athlete mothers:

“When I got pregnant, I kind of was just like ‘that’s all, I’m done.’ At the time in my mind, there was just no way that [a return to competition] was going to work. I was like, ‘I can’t do that. I’m not a superhero.’”

Kenyan Olympic track athlete Faith Kipyegon revealed health issues and fears she had when coming back to sport. Kipyegon managed to train until she was about five months pregnant, but the delivery was traumatic. She needed an emergency C-section to deliver her daughter. “I was so afraid, [thinking], ‘Maybe I will not come back, I will just disappear’,” she said.

These examples showcase the realities elite athlete mothers continue to face. Sports journalist Shireen Ahmed has written about how it is unreasonable to expect athlete mothers to be superwomen: “Yes, that is unrealistic, but sometimes that is what we are faced with. It doesn’t always manifest gracefully, but there it is.”

Ahmed’s reporting of athlete mothers’ stories is groundbreaking, as she celebrates their athleticism while exposing some of the challenges they face.

A motherhood penalty

While elite women athletes are applauded for their experience and success, they can also face a motherhood penalty in the form of reduced career expectations and support.

Despite having experience or previous success, media stories often represent these athletes as exceptions who come back to their careers against all odds. This may reflect veteran athletes navigating an underestimated, but successful, postpartum comeback with less resources.

When older athlete mothers do succeed, there is sometimes a shock and surprise narrative in media coverage. This narrative may reinforce stereotypes that motherhood ends fitness and competitive sporting goals.

Veteran Canadian Olympian Malindi Elmore’s marathon running performance qualified her for the 2020 Olympics, despite her age and her retirement from 1500 m running 17 years earlier.

Last September, Elmore set a personal best in the marathon to qualify for Paris 2024 at 43, showing that continued career success as a mother is possible.

Changing the way these comeback stories are discussed can reduce pressure for veteran athlete mothers coming back to sport.

What next?

The themes from our research shows that media stories of motherhood and sport are shifting to celebrate women’s sport careers.

Media stories that reflect the realities of athlete motherhood and more diverse athlete mothers are needed. There should also be more coverage of racialized and LGBTQ+ mothers and athlete mothers with disabilities.

Such coverage would reveal their shared and unique challenges and triumphs, and would offer a more fulsome portrayal of athlete motherhood. Läs mer…

Beyond birth statistics: Why measuring caesarean rates misses the mark

The Canadian Institute for Health Information (CIHI) has updated its interactive tool, “Your Health System,” which reviews health-care data across all provinces and makes recommendations for the delivery of services, such as childbirth. This includes “low-risk” caesarean rates, meaning the number of low-risk women who have surgery after labouring with a single baby in their first pregnancy.

Provincial “low risk” caesarean rates are compared to the 17.9 per cent national average, including Alberta’s 20.8 per cent rate and British Columbia’s 24.5 per cent rate, which are graded “below average.” In fact, CIHI’s message to all hospitals, physicians and patients on caesarean births in general is clear: A lower rate is “desirable.”

But is it? Challenging this inherently flawed measure of patient care is long overdue. As a standalone statistic, a “low risk” caesarean rate lacks the nuance needed to inform and improve individual clinical care. It simply tells us how many first-time mothers who went into spontaneous labour had a caesarean birth.

Clinical care counts

It does not tell us the clinical considerations behind the decision to intervene, or the relief many mothers feel when a caesarean is performed due to unforeseen complications during labour. We are not reminded that the average age of a mother giving birth in Canada has risen to 31.7 years, representing an upward trend that carries higher risks.

CIHI’s indicator targets those for whom vaginal birth ‘is expected,’ implying that many caesareans are unnecessary.
(Shutterstock)

Nor does it consider changes in baseline rates of pre-existing medical conditions and pregnancy related medical conditions, high infant birth weights that are associated with obstructed labour and fetal distress, and modern developments in fetal monitoring that more frequently diagnose potential fetal distress.

CIHI’s indicator targets those for whom vaginal birth “is expected,” implying that many caesareans are unnecessary. However, childbirth is intrinsically unpredictable, and tolerance for poor outcomes is low. Parents expect a living and healthy baby, and caesareans are an important part of how obstetricians achieve this for Canada’s families.

Information, consent and autonomy

Outcomes for mothers matter, too. Last year, new evidence highlighted Canada’s “unacceptably high” rate of severe injuries to the pelvic floor from forceps and vacuum use, and the highest anal sphincter injury rate of 24 high-income countries.

Researchers criticized a lack of concerted effort to reduce these injuries. A province’s increasing caesarean rate could mean obstetricians are offering caesarean birth as an alternative, and that more mothers are choosing to avoid an instrumental delivery.

Especially as pelvic floor injuries increase a woman’s lifetime risk for urinary and fecal incontinence, pelvic organ prolapse, and complex surgeries that cannot always solve these issues. Any policy or practice denying choice in childbirth, or refusing and delaying caesareans on the mere presumption that rates should be lower, defies the principles of patient-centred care.

Read more:
Requests for caesarean birth brushed aside, despite guidelines to respect maternal choices

And given the United Kingdom’s landmark Montgomery Supreme Court judgment on autonomy, maternal satisfaction is a more appropriate measure of success than any caesarean rate.

Lessons to learn

CIHI could learn another valuable lesson from the U.K., too, since its stated intention “to help reduce C-section rates” in Canada is linked to concerns about “higher costs.”

Childbirth is intrinsically unpredictable, and tolerance for poor outcomes is low.
(Shutterstock)

For decades, U.K. hospital staff and even safety inspectors blindly supported extraneous efforts to reduce caesarean births, until outstanding multi-billion (yes, billion) dollar litigation costs for maternity services caught the attention of government.

Demands for change by families whose babies and mothers died or were seriously injured as a result of delayed and absent caesareans, often for “low-risk” pregnancies, led to police investigations, a national safety inquiry and criticism of birth mode targets.

Litigation may be notoriously difficult for patients similarly harmed in Canada’s health-care system, but it is rising, as are the long-term costs associated with pelvic floor damage.

A patient-centred perspective

Furthermore, Canada has long faced challenges with regional health-care variations driven by diverse patient needs, physician practices and resource availability (staff and blood, for example).

Recognizing this, CIHI recommends better access to caesareans in remote areas. However, we argue it now needs to rethink its blanket position elsewhere that a “lower rate is desirable.” Especially as its recent statement inexplicably links to an obsolete national “normal childbirth” policy that warns it is for historical research only, not clinical use.

To genuinely guide health-care evolution, CIHI’s childbirth metrics must adopt a broader, patient-centred perspective. It should recognize that women’s reproductive health extends far beyond the delivery room, and incorporate data on common but often overlooked conditions, such as pelvic floor disorders, endometriosis, infertility and uterine bleeding.

Women are not merely vessels for childbirth — they are whole individuals with diverse health needs. Canadian women deserve comprehensive, thoughtful reporting of data that acknowledges and addresses these unique aspects of their health. Läs mer…

Walking into stress in 2025? Take steps now to prepare

Five years ago, I began a research project into emotional labour, compassion fatigue and burnout in Alberta’s educational workers.

The results from the earliest study suggested a wide scope of emotional and mental distress among teachers, educational assistants, school leaders and support staff.

This distress has been documented globally and across Canada, suggesting educator mental and emotional well-being continues to decline and interventions are needed.

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How educators manage burnout

Recently, my research team analyzed the specific interventions that our 4,000 survey respondents used to manage their symptoms of compassion fatigue and burnout. Educational worker respondents were recruited online through Alberta Teachers’ Association and internal newsletters and social media. Responses were collected across three periods (2020, 2021 and 2023). We defined intervention as a practice or strategy used to address distress or suffering.

Overwhelmingly, our respondents indicated that they used self-directed or individual interventions to deal with workplace distress such as going to a gym, walking alone, talking to friends and spouses or pursuing hobbies.

While individual interventions are one part of dealing with distress, a single person cannot self-care themselves out of the effects of a toxic workplace or organizational culture.

Video promotiong heart-care planning for educational workers: How do I streak to well-being?

Workplace ‘canaries’

In their recent book, The Burnout Challenge: Managing People’s Relationships with their Jobs, workplace burnout experts and emeriti professors of psychology Christina Maslach and Michael P. Leiter used the canary in the coal mine metaphor to illustrate this point.

Similar to how miners used canaries to indicate the presence of toxic gas in the mine, the large number of absences of adults from their workplaces suggests a toxic environment. But, here’s the catch: you can rescue the canary by bringing it to fresh air, but if you put that canary back into the toxic mine, it will become sick again.

So, while individual interventions can help temporarily relieve workplace stress, the workplace itself also needs to address the root problems.

Organizational supports

In our survey, we asked participants to share strategies they use to support workplace well-being. Over 40 per cent of respondents added “improving work and classroom conditions” when asked if there was anything else they wished to tell researchers about their experiences with compassion fatigue, emotional labour or burnout.

In addition to prioritizing adequate resourcing for schools, there are clear opportunities for educational systems to integrate organizational and school-based interventions for employees, such as providing professional development opportunities or micro-programs that target and relieve workplace stressors.

Such organizational resources were the least-mentioned forms of support our survey participants currently use, but improving school and system culture could have the greatest impact on employee attraction and retention.

Get outside!

A opportunity for building well-being appeared as a new trend in the most recent analysis of our data. Over the three data collection points, more respondents wrote “getting outside” as an “other” form of intervention they were using to feel better.

This insight led me, with collaborators Nadeen Halls, a teacher consultant, and Patrick Hanlon, from the Werklund School of Education Academic Support Offices, to develop a pilot a “Walk and Learn” professional learning workshop for burned out educators. We mixed two interventions, environmental and organizational, to create a walk for local teachers so they could learn about compassion fatigue and burnout while going for a walk on trails outside Calgary in Treaty 7 territory, also home to Métis Regions 5 & 6.

Participant reflecting on own well-being at Walk and Learn, September, 2024.
(Astrid Kendrick)

As a part of the walk, we carefully selected sit-spots along the trail for reflective journaling on workplace well-being. This combined experience of physical activity and quiet reflection appeared to have a positive effect on the participants. In our post-walk feedback, 100 per cent of participants expressed appreciation for this type of professional learning. At our most recent walk in October, we had two returning participants — high praise from teachers who do not like to take the same session twice!

Partnership with local teacher association

The design of the walks has been critical. We are flexible about the trail we select, making changes to suit the abilities of all our walkers. We arranged the walks through a local chapter of the Alberta Teachers’ Association and also some school staff teams so that the walks were scheduled during the regular school day rather than during the evening or on weekends. I also secured some funding to purchase items such as mittens, toques, tissues, and bleacher-style cushions to ensure the overall comfort of the walkers.

After listening and reflecting on compassion fatigue and burnout, participants would walk and discuss the impact of these psychological hazards with their peers and colleagues. They shared their strategies to support their own and their students’ well-being.

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Maybe of the highest importance, participants have noted that the walks have helped them realize they are not alone in their suffering. These conversations between walkers created social support, a starting point for improving workplace culture.

The popularity of the walks led us to design a podcast learning series so others could enjoy the benefits of movement and learning. The HEARTcare Podcast and Learn series aims both to teach about important concepts related to workplace well-being while prompting listeners to be physically active and mentally engaged.

HEARTcare Episode 1: What is compassion and compassion fatigue?

Unprompted feedback from podcast listeners has been positive. Our next step is to investigate the podcasts’ usefulness as a professional learning tool and strategy for stress relief.

Taking one walk or listening to one podcast is not the magic wand or cure-all that will save education. But evidence suggests that higher daily step counts have positive mental health benefitsand connecting with other people through activity can improve physical well-being.

So, don’t be afraid to walk into stress in this year — and be sure to bring a friend or colleague. It might be the only steps you need to take to feel better. Läs mer…

Is university worth it? Yes, for both students and society

As we enter the holiday season many young people are no doubt beginning to consider their future options. With a range of paths to pursue, a high rate of youth unemployment in Canada and a higher education sector facing unprecedented challenges it may seem logical to wonder if university is worth it.

In my role as president of York University I see these issues play out every day in the lives of my students and faculty. However, I can say with certainty that, yes, university is worth it for both students and society. And while you might think that I might be biased, there is real data to back it up.

Simply put, going to university enriches both students and society over the long term. We must ensure that students and universities are supported to help ensure as broad access as possible.

Long-term benefits

While many students entering the market fresh out of university will make entry-level wages, the reality is that over the longer term their earning potential has more room to expand. Those with a bachelor’s degree earn 24 per cent more than the national average. The more education, the higher the earning potential.

Students with a university degree are more likely to have stable employment even amidst economic disruption, as the COVID-19 pandemic revealed. Graduates are also more likely to gain employment that offers a wider range of benefits. Simply put, an education increases one’s chances of finding fulfilling employment and living a longer and healthier life.

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Beyond individual benefits, there are also key benefits to society. Canada relies disproportionately on universities compared to other OECD countries to drive the research and innovation central to a productive and prosperous economy. Further research has shown that education is central to a healthy, democratic society

To quote Nelson Mandela: “education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world.”

The world faces a host of wicked problems ranging from economic inequality to climate change, geopolitical conflict and ongoing wars. Universities and graduates play a key role in addressing these challenges.

Training resilience

Technology is not going away and it is not slowing down.

A recent study revealed that the jobs of more than 60 per cent of Canadians may be at risk to AI. Moreover, an estimated one out of 10 employees in Canada could be at a high risk of automation-related job redundancy. Canada’s already volatile job market will continue to be impacted.

Those with higher levels of education are the best equipped to benefit from technologies in ways that complement the work they do. Graduates are also more likely to have the transferable skills needed to withstand workforce disruption.

An AI engineer works on a humanoid robot at a testing facility in Sunnyvale, Calif. in October 2023.
(AP Photo/Jae C. Hong)

According to the OECD, AI technologies pose less of a risk for highly-skilled workers. In fact, their jobs are less likely to be replaced by automation because they possess the critical thinking skills needed to provide oversight to tasks that use AI and automation. While these technologies are sophisticated and becoming even more so each day, they currently cannot replicate human cognitive, critical and decision-making skills.

There is also compelling research that shows students with higher education are more likely to pursue continuing education to upgrade and reskill, a quality that makes students more agile in a shifting labour market.

Universities have also been increasing micro-credentials, programs which help learners re-skill while they are holding employment and balancing familial obligations, to support lifelong learning and build a more resilient Canadian workforce.

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Ensuring access

If Canada is to meet the expanding needs of students and of the country then we must invest now in higher education. Access is something I worry deeply about to ensure that we are not leaving any talent behind.

Data from the 2017 National Survey of Engagement indicates that 48 per cent of first- and fourth-year undergrad students at York came from households where neither parent held a bachelor’s degree. What’s more, York’s 2020 Economic and Social Impact Report revealed that 59 per cent of students could not have attended university without financial support.

Creating accessible educational opportunities for diverse learners to develop responsive skills is critical for a vibrant future workforce and for resilient communities. York and other universities in Canada have a good track record for this.

New York University graduates cheer at the start of their commencement ceremony at Yankee Stadium in New York, Wednesday, in May 2024 .
(AP Photo/Seth Wenig)

At the same time, social mobility and productivity have been declining in Canada in recent years. Continuing to ensure that eligible students have access to university education including at the graduate level is imperative to address these trends. The significant numbers of Canadian students leaving the country to study medicine overseas while Canada is facing a significant gap in primary care physicians is just one example.

These are troubling trends which Canadian universities are committed to addressing.

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Investing in universities

While the commitment and innovation of universities is evident, the unfortunate truth is that universities across much of Canada have seen a steady decline in real dollar funding for years.

In Ontario, recommendations from the government’s blue-ribbon panel strongly advocated for the urgent increase in financial support for universities. To meet the changes in Canada’s labour market, universities have developed new programs to meet the talent needs in areas such as science, technology, engineering and health. We have also worked to enhance access through flexible teaching formats and strengthened international and cross-sector research collaborations to tackle complex societal problems. Universities have also increased supports for students including activities to help them connect with careers and become more entrepreneurial and efficient.

In short, universities in Canada are one of the country’s most important assets. If we are to continue delivering the high-quality education for which we are known and serving the needs of the communities who rely on us, especially given fierce global competition for talent, it is essential that we secure a financially sustainable model for universities.

Canada’s high youth unemployment has many people anxious about how they will fare in a job market that bears a striking resemblance to the Hunger Games. Expanding employment opportunities is necessary and will require collaboration across all sectors. But the data are clear. A university education will provide our youth with a running start and the ability to adapt as they go. Läs mer…

Bonjour Tristesse: a ‘charming little monster’ disrupts bourgeois morality on the French Riviera

In 1954, Bonjour Tristesse scandalised readers with its depiction of a 17-year-old girl who partied, had sex and played havoc with other people’s lives.

The author, French writer Françoise Sagan, was only 18 herself. She shot to fame when the novel won the prestigious Prix des critiques. “Today she’s just a pretty girl,” said one reviewer, “tomorrow, she’ll be someone to talk about.”

AbeBooks

Sagan went on to publish some 20 novels, and to write for the theatre and screen. But the slim Bonjour Tristesse remains her most recognised work. The author was quickly equated with her first protagonist, Cécile. She was said to like money, fast cars, new dresses and gambling. And for a long time, her myth and celebrity overpowered everything else.

The novel has inspired several film adaptations, the most famous of these being the 1958 film directed by Otto Preminger, starring Jean Seberg. A new film, directed by Canadian Durga Chew-Bose, premiered this September at the Toronto International Film Festival.

Some 70 years after publication, Sagan’s depiction of a young woman’s sexuality is G-rated. And conceptions of immorality, taboo and transgression have vastly changed. But the novel remains powerful in its characterisation of a girl who feels the wrong things – not enough shame, too much pleasure – and feels sadness with such style.

Charming little monster

Bonjour Tristesse takes place in one summer on the French Riviera, or Côte d’Azur, where Cécile is whiling away the holidays with her well off, womanising father, Raymond, and his latest fling, Elsa. Since Cécile’s mother died, she and her father have become a pleasure-seeking duo: more friends (in her words) or accomplices (in his) than parent and child.

In a big white villa on the Mediterranean sea, they enjoy a “reckless happiness”. Cécile plunges into the fresh, clear water to “wash away the shadows and dust of the city”. She bites into an orange, feeling “the sweet juice run into [her] mouth”, and lets the sun smooth “away the marks of the sheet on [her] skin”.

Enter Anne, an old friend of Cécile’s late mother. Anne spends her time with “clever, intelligent and discreet” types, rather than the “noisy and insatiable” beautiful people preferred by Cécile and her father. Anne’s arrival threatens to stop the teenager from getting cosy with Cyril, the boy next door – and from partying instead of studying.

When Anne and her father get engaged, Cécile panics she’ll lose her father’s affection and gain an unwanted mother figure. So, she hatches an ill-fated plan to get rid of the other woman.

The novel’s first-person narration is somewhat theatrical. Cécile describes the events of the summer as having “all the elements of a drama”, with “a seducer, a demi-mondaine and a determined woman”. She manipulates these figures without concern for the feelings or lives of others. This characterisation led critics to say Sagan had created a type: “the wicked ingénue, who delights in life’s absurdity and acts in the comedy of existence just for the fun of it”.

Francoise Sagan, 1958.
Wikipedia

It is tempting here to liken Sagan to her creation, Cécile. French novelist Francois Mauriac famously called the author “ce charmant petit monstre”, or, “that charming little monster”. The label stuck. At only 18, with her pixie cut and carefree attitude, Sagan was also a young bourgeois woman pushing the limits of what was acceptable.

But the autobiographical label tells us less about the writing and author, and more about her public, who only wanted “a scandalous writer or a young bourgeois woman”. Sagan famously played into the media furore, saying later: “I don’t really understand adult values and I never will”.

Her book tells a more complicated story. It’s too easy to label what Rachel Cusk calls an interrogation of morality as simply immoral or immature.

Fashionable feelings

As you can tell from the title, which translates as “hello sadness”, Sagan is good at writing pretty and poetic feelings. The book’s first line, in which the world-weary narrator looks back at herself and foreshadows a “strange melancholy” she would rather not name, hints at the difficulty of translation. (I owe these English quotes to Irene Ash’s 1955 translation, but you can also find a “fresh” 2013 version by Heather Lloyd.)

Feelings are what define the characters and shape their every gesture. Cécile envies “the happy nonchalance, the languid grace” love imparts to Anne’s movements, and shows bemusement at Anne’s integrity. Where Anne “can stand perfectly still while [she] talk[s]”, Cécile is more flaccid, needing the “support of a chair, or some object to hold like a cigarette, or the distraction of swinging one leg over the other and watching it move”.

Bonjour Tristesse has sometimes been accused of lacking true emotional depth. Cécile has fashionable feelings and fashionable ideas, but doesn’t always convey them with conviction. Her description of being in love is poetic, but shallow. Her dismissal of the conventional bourgeois life is halfhearted. And her grief is, for the most part, either buried or passing.

Even so, Sagan’s portrayal of a teenager reckoning with pain and self-hate has had a powerful cultural impact. Cécile’s detachment is glamorous and cinematic, embodying what was a new kind of rebelliousness in the 1950s. She is very thin and casually sexy – “a little wild cat”, in her father’s words, though he’d “rather have a beautiful fair-haired daughter”.

In Austrian-American Preminger’s adaptation, Jean Seberg’s American “preppy style” and pixie cut combined with French feminine chic. Seberg’s incarnation of Cécile was what led to her becoming an icon of the French New Wave as the boyish and mischievous “gamine”. Her performance inspired Jean-Luc Godard’s Breathless (1960), a film where she embodied the modern and forward-looking.

Jean Seberg’s incarnation of Cécile in the 1958 film of Bonjour Tristesse led to her becoming an icon of the French New Wave.

Descriptions like this one in 1987 Harper’s Bazaar attest to the influence of her look: “Prettiness is back and with it la gamine, the très beguiling, naughty-naive waiflike look that has turned nightclub audiences into a sea of Jean Seberg lookalikes.”

Today’s literary “sad bad girl” could be understood as another iteration of the same. Cécile is the ultimate young white woman with money, free to wallow around. Afraid of ennui – Ash has “boredom”, but the French “ennui” evokes a privileged dissatisfaction with the world – and left alone with her thoughts, she turns to provocation and destruction.

But where the millennial (and anglophone) sad bad girl is self-abasing and flat, Cécile is outwardly and childishly confident; she also has psychological nuance. Split into narrator and protagonist, older and younger versions, thinking self and object of reflection, Cécile can’t be contained by any one “type”.

The scenes in Bonjour Tristesse that actually wrench at your heartstrings are the ones that evoke a gaping and palpable emptiness. For Cécile, the scariest thing is not losing the heady bubble of youth and pleasure – it’s coming to a painful awareness of the bubble’s emptiness.

Shameless sex

Despite having very little sex in it, Bonjour Tristesse is famous for depicting a young woman’s sexuality. Cécile is attracted to older men, and describes her father, Raymond, as both “the best-looking man I know” and “magnificent”. The relationship between father and daughter is almost disturbingly affectionate, something Preminger’s film pushes closer to the incestuous.

In his 1958 adaptation, the two kiss on the lips and Elsa labels their relationship a “perfect marriage”. This film also problematically equates “free love” with harassment of those with less power (see Raymond groping the maid, to general hilarity), something no one would get away with post-#MeToo.

The book fares better, though it engages only superficially with class. Sagan shows Cécile disdainful of snooty bourgeois ideas about how she should socialise and who with, but does not explore the privilege her position gives her to transgress.

Within this milieu, Cécile again anticipates much later heroines. Influenced by her father’s “frivolous” attitude towards relationships and women, Cécile embraces her sexuality and pursues a “rapid, violent and passing love affair” with Cyril.

While the character’s narrative arc would be unremarkable for a teenage boy, it broke from the norms for girls that separated sex from pleasure and agency, and used pregnancy as a moralising device.

Inconceivably unpunished

Anne has the job of reining Cécile in, according to bourgeois norms and pragmatic concerns. When she finds her half naked with Cyril, she warns Cécile about ending up in a clinic, which we can surmise is a reference to clandestine abortion. In this light, the superficial feelings Cécile has for him take on a transgressive dimension. What is significant is not that this girl has sex, but that she’s as casual about it as she is about everything else. Despite not being in love or wanting to marry, Cécile feels no shame, hesitation or fanfare. Her sexuality is not so much examined, as unquestioned.

When Cyril asks Cécile if she’s worried about getting pregnant, she casually responds that she would leave him to deal with it if she was. Such blitheness indicates a certain naivety from a character – and perhaps a young author – who has lived a relatively sheltered life.

Even so, Cécile’s behaviour shifts the gendered onus of responsibility, together with the emotional labour. It’s Cyril who is critical of Cécile’s father’s unconventional living arrangements, and he wishes his lover would act a little more “tormented”.

Some 30 years after writing Bonjour Tristesse, Sagan explained: “It was inconceivable that a young girl of 17 or 18 should make love, without being in love, with a boy of her own age, and not be punished for it.” Today, it’s still hard to imagine a young woman who doesn’t feel responsible for pregnancy or concern about her reputation.

Relationships between women

What strikes me reading Bonjour Tristesse today is not the romantic or sexual intrigue, but the relationships between women. While Cécile seemingly cares most about her father and idealises heterosexual love, Sagan makes these things secondary and two-dimensional. The narrator herself admits to leaving Raymond in the background. “I have spoken a great deal about Anne and myself,” she says, “and very little of my father.”

The relationships between women, including Cecile and her stepmother, are central to Bonjour Tristesse.
Turner Classic Movies

Cécile is a shamelessly bitchy narrator who objectifies herself and other women, and sees ugliness as a moral failing. But, through Cécile, Sagan explores how women see other women, in a society defined by the male gaze. As art critic John Berger said, “women watch themselves being looked at”.

Cécile quickly reduces Elsa to femme fatale, but has more trouble defining Anne by her relationship with Raymond. Confused, Cécile initially categorises Anne not as a woman, but as an “entity”. She explains: “I had seen her as a self-assured, elegant, and clever person, but never weak or sensual.” Heteronormative gender roles are what makes a woman, for Cécile.

A complex relationship with feminism

Published five years after Simone de Beauvoir’s influential feminist manifesto The Second Sex (1949), Bonjour Tristesse is one of several existentialist novels written by women that grapple with meaning, and ask the question: who am I without a man?

Sagan did not identify as feminist, and Bonjour Tristesse consolidates a certain French femininity (even if it looks more modern than it once did). Still, it humanises women and grants Cécile subjectivity. Under all that objectification are complex feelings and introspection: Cécile swings between feeling jealousy, hate, care, love, fear and admiration for Anne.

At the time Bonjour Tristesse was published, the author herself was being pigeonholed, and Seberg, in a male-dominated screen industry, was reportedly abused by Preminger into looking sufficiently wistful on screen. But Sagan (shockingly) had written a three-dimensional 17-year-old girl.

Some readers today might struggle to care about a spoilt little rich girl’s melodrama – that’s understandable. But if you’re happy to get inside Cécile’s head, you’ll find depth there, as well as a sensual and timeless escape.

Sagan famously said: “scandal is just talent”. It will be interesting to see what that talent looks like in the 21st century, in Chew-Bose’s adaptation – and how it appeals to a very different gaze. Läs mer…

My dance school is closed for the summer, how can I keep up my fitness?

Once the end-of-year dance concert and term wrap up for the year it is important to take a break. Both physical and mental rest are important and taking a few weeks off can help your body repair and have a mental break from dance.

If your mind and body are in need of an extended break (such as more than a few weeks), then it’s more than OK to take longer off, especially if you are training at a competitive or pre-professional level.

There is benefit in enjoying other aspects of your life outside of dance such as spending time with family, friends and enjoying hobbies.

A safe, fulfilling dancing life

Creating meaning and value in life outside of dance and expanding sense of self can make it easier to lean into other aspects when experiencing change or difficult times during dance training such as being injured.

Taking an extended break from dance training will, however, mean losing some fitness and physical capacity. When you return to dance your body will take time to return to full capacity again.

Approaches such as being “whipped back into shape” can promote sudden spikes in training load (hours and intensity of training) which can increase the risk of injury. It is advised to gradually and progressively increase training load over time to allow the body to adapt and return to full capacity safely.

A four-to-six week period of gradually progressing training load and introducing jumping has been suggested in dance settings.

For dancers wanting to maintain fitness over the summer holidays, a great place to start is focusing on building a physical foundation.

Exercise like running can help build a physical foundation.
Jacek Chabraszewski/Shutterstock

Building a physical foundation means focusing on targeted areas of fitness such as full body strength, cardiovascular fitness or stamina (such as skipping, cycling walking, running, swimming), flexibility, and some dance-specific conditioning (for example, calf rises for ballet).

A good physical foundation will mean an improved capacity and fitness level so your body is ready to take on more challenging dance movements and routines once you return to the studio.

Building full body strength at home or at the park

A great place to start is by choosing movements that require your muscles to work to support your own body weight.

Fundamental movements such as crawling (moving on the floor on hands and feet) and locomotion (travelling movements such as lunging, hopping, sliding) are great for developing body control, arm and leg stability and coordinated movement patterns.

Below is a sequence that can be used as a warm up and even as a workout itself. The ten minute sequence is based on gross motor and fundamental movement patterns. It includes exercises that work through a range of joint movements and in multiple planes (forwards, sideways, rotating).

This fundamental movement sequence can be used as a warm-up or a workout.
Joanna Nicholas, CC BY

Once feeling comfortable with the above fundamental movements, it is time to introduce body weight resistance exercises.

Body weight resistance exercises can be beneficial for developing a strong foundation for dance movements such as jumping, landing, floorwork, partnering and aerial work.

Exercises from the above sequence can be used to form a safe and effective neuromuscular warm up.

Aim to include one exercise from each of the below movement categories (squat, horizontal push etc) to build your own workout.

Aim to complete two to three sets (or rounds) of each exercise with about one minute rest between sets. An alternative is to complete one set of each exercise with minimal rest between, then complete a second or third time.

If training with friends, you could set a timer and do each exercise for up to 50 seconds (instead of counting reps) and take ten seconds to transition to the next exercise.

Depending on your level of strength you may need to do fewer repetitions and build up sets and repetitions overtime. After you have completed the body weight exercises complete a cool down including stretches for the upper and lower body muscles. Be sure to use a sturdy bar (such as an outdoor fitness station) for horizontal row and overhead hold.

Exercises may need to be modified depending on fitness level and physical limitations such as injury.

You can build your own full body strength workout using these movements.
Joanna Nicholas, CC BY

How often should I train?

A common misconception in dance is that “more is better”. This belief can lead to dancers training long hours on most or all days of the week which can lead to overtraining, plateauing and increased risk of injury.

Our bodies require sufficient time between training sessions to adapt and get stronger and fitter. The time between sessions is when our muscles and tissues repair and training gains are made.

By incorporating adequate recovery (including sleep and downtime) and including rest days throughout the week, our bodies can gain the most benefits from training.

Rest days are important, too.
Manop Boonpeng/Shutterstock

Muscles can take up to 48–72 hours to recover from most types of strength-based exercises (the more intense the longer they’ll need to recover).

Aerobic activity at low intensity, such as a brisk walk, can be done most days (24-hour recovery) while high stress anaerobic exercise such as high intensity intervals or sprints can take three days or more to recover from.

Aim to spread training sessions out over the week and allow time to recover between sessions.

Below is an example weekly schedule based on incorporating adequate recovery between sessions, and incorporating polarised training where some days are harder and others are easier.

Seek guidance from your healthcare provider and/or an exercise professional prior to undertaking a new exercise program. Läs mer…

The Christmas album that heralded the end of a folk musical era: The Kingston Trio’s The Last Month of the Year

For those looking to introduce some musical conflict into the holidays, Bob Dylan’s Christmas in the Heart remains a great choice in its 15th anniversary – like it or not.

Before Dylan really got started, an iconic group opened the door to mainstream folk success for Dylan and his contemporaries. And at the height of their popularity, they also released an unexpected Christmas album.

But instead of becoming a perennial classic, it seemed to foreshadow the approaching end for the group’s dominance at the peak of popular music.

That album was The Kingston Trio’s ill-fated The Last Month of the Year from 1960.

The ‘hottest act in show business’

The Kingston Trio are often remembered as a clean-cut, sanitised and goofy footnote in musical history. Their matching striped shirts may be a difficult fashion choice to rehabilitate today, but the trio’s impact on popular music was explosive.

Popular performances in 1957 San Francisco led quickly to their self-titled first album the following year. Reshaping folk music for a mainstream audience energised professional and amateur performers.

Critic Greil Marcus describes their breakthrough hit, 1958’s Tom Dooley, as having “the same effect on hearts and minds in 1958 that Nirvana’s Smells Like Teen Spirit and Nevermind did in 1991”.

By the time they released their Christmas album, they were the “hottest act in show business”.

In the previous two years, they’d had five number one albums on the Billboard charts. Four of their albums were in the top ten at the same time. They reportedly generated 15% of Capitol Records’ annual sales.

Following that phenomenal success, one early response to their Christmas album noted:

By now it’s fairly well established that the Kingston Trio could record Row, Row Your Boat in 12 languages, put it on wax, and the album would sell a half-million copies. As a consequence, there’s little doubt that The Last Month of the Year will be one of the big sellers this Christmas.

Instead, The Last Month of the Year became their first studio album not to reach number one.

Although still successful, their later albums never reached number one or Gold Album status again. Founding member Dave Guard left in 1961. A new lineup with replacement John Stewart had peaks of success, enduring in a changing folk scene – but never quite recapturing those initial years.

‘Perhaps the most unusual set of the year’

The Kingston Trio were lambasted, then and now, for their commercial focus. Nevertheless, The Last Month of the Year stands in contrast to many enduring commercial norms.

Contemporary responses to The Last Month of the Year noted “a number of almost unknown Christmas songs instead of the usual diet of standard carols” and “perhaps the most unusual set of the year”.

There are none of the 1940s and 1950s staples that have persisted through the decades. Nat King Cole opened his 1960 album The Magic of Christmas with a spirited Deck the Halls. Both Ella Fitzgerald (on Ella Wishes You a Swinging Christmas) and Peggy Lee (on Christmas Carousel) opened their Christmas albums of the same year with Jingle Bells.

In contrast, The Kingston Trio’s opening track is a subdued version of the 16th century Coventry Carol, a lullaby for the children Herod ordered to be killed. The restrained use of a celeste, or bell-piano, summons Christmas vibes but largely augments the sombre harmonies.

Opening with the biblical Massacre of the Innocents was certainly one way to set The Last Month of the Year apart from its jolly competitors.

Range, energy and appropriation

Other songs include delicate folk (All Through the Night), traditional rounds (A Round About Christmas), historical carols (Sing We Noel) and uncharacteristic original lyrics (The White Snows of Winter).

Spirituals Go Where I Send Thee and The Last Month of the Year (What Month Was Jesus Born In) allow the trio to focus on the kind of energy (and appropriation) that had defined much of their previous output.

Goodnight My Baby charms as a Christmas Eve lullaby that’s too excited to lull anyone to sleep.

Adding oddness, Mary Mild reshapes the strange apocryphal The Bitter Withy where a child Jesus creates “a bridge of the beams of the sun” to encourage children to play with him. The Kingston Trio only hint at the song’s common outcome that leaves his playmates dead and Mary meting out some corporal punishment.

Perhaps more restrained than their usual performances, the album nevertheless guides listeners through some of the styles and sources that the Trio’s brand of popular folk could draw on.

A Christmas album that still has something to offer

The Last Month of the year wasn’t the cause, but it occupies a turning point where The Kingston Trio’s cultural dominance began to slip.

The Kingston Trio in 1957.
The Kingston Trio/Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA

Soon after, Bob Dylan’s song Blowin’ in the Wind (published in 1962) and album The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan (1963) marked a new era of folk that revived its political energy (for a while).

As folk music further solidified its place in the civil rights movement, the Kingston Trio’s collegiate party vibes and perceived apoliticism seemed out of step.

When Dylan released his Christmas album in 2009, one critic asked “Is he sincere? Does he mean it?”

That’s also a question that defined and dogged The Kingston Trio from the outset of the folk revival they ushered in. Are these goofy guys serious?

The Last Month of the Year is an intriguing and ambitious album by a group that, for a short but influential time, reshaped popular music.

It’s a forgotten Christmas album that might still have something new to offer a Christmas-weary listener. Läs mer…

How to get the kids through a long car trip without screens or losing your mind

Some years ago, my daughter was set a maths problem: how much does it cost to drive a family of four from Melbourne to Sydney, calculating petrol per kilometre and including a night’s accommodation? Her answer was simple: the cost is four airfares – that way the kids won’t kill each other.

Unfortunately, flying is not an option for many people over the holiday period.

So, how do you get the family through that long car trip without all hell breaking loose?

Try and avoid screens

The obvious choice for a long trip is to give the kids a device. But while screens might buy peace in the short term, returning to the real world afterwards can be overwhelming for children.

Lots of passive screen time – such as watching a movie or looking at YouTube – disconnects children from the people around them.

Studies on children up to the age of seven show an association between too much screen time and behaviour problems. Straight after a long time with screens, children can be fractious and argumentative. Parents also know taking the screens away from children can lead to tantrums.

No one wants to start a holiday with a meltdown. So, while there are certainly times and places when screens are useful (and even a blessing) – the long car trip is probably not one of them.

No one wants excessive pouting on holidays.
Irina Wilhauk/Shutterstock

Cars are not natural places to be

Cars are not natural environments for any of us, and especially not for children who discover the world through their senses.

In cars kids can’t move around much, they are cut off from the smells and textures of the world beyond the car. Things outside the window are moving really fast, making processing hard.

This is why some planning and a lot of understanding are important. The key to survival is making space, even in the car, for your child to do what they do best.

Let kids be creative

Children are naturally creative as they look at the world with fresh eyes.

There are lots of ways to harness this creativity in a car. Even with very young children, you can make music together. Make body percussion together (claps, raspberries, tapping and clicking) to create a soundtrack for part of the travel. You can change the rhythm, tempo or sound.

Or you could introduce them to a song you love – and give them a part to sing. Even very young children love serve and return singing – you sing a bit, they sing a bit.

When you need a break, ask the kids to prepare a concert for you using a song they love.

Ask lots of questions

Use the new environments around you as a prompt. Ask your kids questions like, if you were a bird, what would be able to see now? If you were that cow, what would you be thinking?

If you have drawing materials in the car, the children can draw their ideas and make a map of where they are.

If you have two or more children, you could encourage them to make up a play from the perspective of the animals or environment you are driving through. What is happening in that cafe? What is that dog planning for the afternoon?

Ask your kids to imagine the trip from the point of view of an animal they see.
myphotobank.comm.au/Shutterstock

Oldies but goodies

There are also old-fashioned games like “Spot It”, which is like bingo for the trip.

You can make your own version before you leave on the trip. Create a grid with images of things your child might see – an orange car, a cow, a kangaroo, a tractor, a grape vine.

When they see them, they tick them off. Children can move in and out of this game, especially if you have thought ahead about what they might see on different parts of the journey.

For older kids, make up silly phrases based on number plate letters. For example, QTJ might be “Quick Turtles Jump”. Then you can add several number plates together to make a rhyme or a rap.

Or, get them to add, subtract or multiply several number plate numbers until they get to 100.

Get your child to search for landmarks along the way.
Robie Online/ Shutterstock

Embrace the mess

A small amount of thought before and during the journey can help. But long car trips are hard on kids – which makes them hard on parents.

So embrace the mess and the inevitable moments of grumpiness. Trapped in a car together, this is an opportunity to know your child differently and for them to know you differently. Cars can be great places to discuss tricky topics with children (and teenagers) in non-confronting ways. Try asking some deeper questions, such as: what are the best things in life? What do you wish we did more of as a family? Or, do you think being fair is important?

There are chances here to make happy memories – even if the times in between feel a bit like torture. Läs mer…