I recently finished the book Hunt, Gather, Parent at my wife’s recommendation, and I am left with a number of insights. First, a little about the book. In an effort to understand how ancient cultures reared children, Dr. Michaeleen Doucleff traveled to three different continents to spend time with the Maya, Inuit, and Hadzabe people, in order to observe how they raised children. Even more impressive is the fact that she did all of this traveling with her then 3-year old daughter, Rosy. In the book she shares her observations on how these cultures raise children that are independent, autonomous, and resilient. Much of what they do is counterintuitive to parents coming from a western background. Where we would speak or intervene, they stay silent and let the child be. Where we yell or chastise, they whisper and tell stories.
The book revealed for me my unconscious assumptions about indigenous cultures. Generally, I view modern technologically advanced cultures, like ours, as superior to the few remaining indigenous cultures on the planet. After all, we have made so many advances in science, medicine, engineering etc. I even subconsciously assumed that we in modern America were superior in parenting because we had so much evidence backing our practices. But as Doucleff explains in her book, much of the evidence for western parenting is only from the last 100 years or so, and sometimes there is no actual evidence at all. Whereas, some of these indigenous cultures have maintained consistent parenting practices for thousands of years. And ultimately, the proof is in the pudding. How do the children behave? In the book you’ll see that it is often the case that Doucleff’s daughter is the one misbehaving, and Doucleff is the frustrated parent.
My favorite chapter in the book is on her experience with the Hadzabe tribe in Tanzania. One scene in particular is etched into my mind. She describes a cool morning where the men have just returned from a hunt. They start a fire beneath the shade of a large baobab tree. Their families join them, and one of the men greets his baby boy. He holds him tenderly and takes a seat by the fire. His daughter climbs the baobab tree and picks fruit for everyone to eat along with the meat from the hunt. The men and women talk, sing, and tell stories all morning by the fire. The father holds his son and sings to him softly. Doucleff explains that they did this almost every morning, and that they could sit by the fire and sing for hours.
We may feel superior with our various technological advances, but parenting may be the oldest job in existence. I often wonder if we need less Cocomelon, TikTok, and FoxNews and more singing and story telling by a warm fire.
Ancient human cultures show us that the answer is yes.