Journal Kids

Dear fellow passengers: You are not entitled to a silent flight

Dear fellow passengers: You are not entitled to a silent flight www.herviewfromhome.com
Written by Zrinka Peters

After reading Kesha Bernard’s viral Facebook post in which she helps a mom who was struggling with crying kids on a packed airplane flight, I wanted to give her a medal of honor for being an everyday hero. Because I have been that struggling mother on quite a few occasions.

Living a couple thousand miles from my immediate family means that every year I fly—with kids—on tiring flights. On multiple occasions I’ve flown solo with kids. This summer I flew alone with four kids aged 2, 4, 6 and 8. Last summer I did it alone with each of those kids being a year younger. I’ve flown with sleeping newborns, squirmy 9-month-olds and impossible 18-month-olds. On some flights my kids have been surprisingly angelic. On others I’ve fought with a loud, kicking toddler for 4 exhausting hours. Believe me, it’s not fun.

I’ve experienced the anxious, dreading sideline glances of passengers when they see young kids approaching their seats. I’ve witnessed the “huffing, puffing and mumbling.” Honestly, some people seem to get annoyed by the mere presence of kids, even when their behavior is just fine. Unfortunately, only on a small handful of occasions in the last decade of plane travel with kids has someone offered to help, and it’s usually been a kind-hearted passenger.

I know it’s annoying to listen to a young child whine or cry. I know it’s annoying when they talk loudly or get excited and yell (or in my 2-year-old’s case, when she sings her heart out). I know there are a lot of business travellers on flights these days who are expecting to read, work or sleep the entire flight. But, fellow passengers, try to understand.

The planes my family travel on are public transportation just like buses or ferries or trains. I’m allowed to board them with my kids, and these flights are not designated silent zones. They are not even “adult-only” zones. I promise I will do my best to get my kids to behave well during the flight. But I can’t promise you a silent flight, and you are not entitled to one.

If I see one of my kids kick your seat I’ll get them to stop, but they might sneak one in anyways. My toddler sometimes gets excited and (like a normal child with exceptionally healthy lungs) screams out of joy, fear, excitement, whatever. If that happens I’ll promptly reminder her to use her “inside voice,” but she’s likely to forget at some point during the flight.

If my 4-year-old drops a crayon or fruit snack and it somehow finds its way under your seat, let’s not treat it like a criminal offense, ok? If—heaven forbid—my toddler has ear pain because of the changes in air pressure, there might be a little loud crying. They are kids, after all, and as hard as I’ve tried I haven’t been able to get our two-year-old to act 21.

The human family we are all a part of consists of people of all ages. We need to bear with one another a little more. Children seem to have been largely pushed out of many public places, but they have every right to be there. Please don’t treat my kids like they don’t belong on your flight. I know you have important places to go. So do we. My kids need to see their grandparents.

So dear fellow passenger: as long as you’re not hiring private jets and we find ourselves on the same flight, let’s make a deal.  I’ll do my very best—I promise—to have my kids behave well on our shared flight. I’m prepared. I have snacks, activities, iPads, patience and stamina. But my best efforts can’t 100% ensure total serenity. And you—you do your very best to welcome them on the flight, and overlook minor outbursts in their otherwise-good behavior. Oh, and if you see me struggling under the weight of a toddler, diaper bag, purse, carry-on case and stroller, feel free to be an everyday hero and offer to help with a smile. See you on our next flight.

About the author

Zrinka Peters

Zrinka lives on 35 acres in MN with her husband, six kids and an ever-changing number of furry and feathered creatures. She loves book clubs, flowerbeds, and successful gluten-free baking. One of her greatest hopes is to lead her children to love deeply. She sometimes catches a few minutes to write in between snacks, laundry, and kid catastrophes. She hopes to make her little corner of the world a better place one word at a time.