While watching the presidential debates with my sons, it occurred to me that my children’s political views are identical to mine and my husband’s. When Senator Obama spoke about his tax plans, the faces of my boys twisted in horror. When Senator McCain spoke on the subject of foreign policy, they nodded their heads in agreement.

Of course, their parroting is normal. We all parrot opinions. I was surprised when, during a typical conversation about the election, my close friend told me that I was the only person she knew who was planning to vote for Mr. McCain.

“Are you kidding?” I asked. “I’m the only person you know who’s voting for McCain?”

My friend’s statement, which she volunteered as evidence of my grave misjudgment, instantly made her own opinion nearly worthless. Her effort to intimidate me ultimately began a process in which I began to think about the way in which she — and any of us — form our opinions.

Day in and day out, if the only people we speak to about the election (or any subject for that matter) are people who share our beliefs, are we really engaging in any kind of thoughtful deliberation? It’s understandable that our children are exposed to a rather limited scope of views, but shouldn’t we make an effort to expose them, and ourselves, to as many ideas and thoughtfully crafted opinions as possible?

The idea of reaching beyond a comfort zone is one that I often think about this time of year, as my family celebrates the Jewish New Year. While some make resolutions in January, I am prone to self-evaluation in September, and not just because of the religious holidays. After so many years in school, I think September always offers a fresh start.

How can we continually expand our children’s horizons? And what about our own horizons? We need the development just as much. As we get older we may get wiser, but we also are less able — and maybe even less interested in — processing new ideas.

In many ways, it’s probably easier to open our children’s minds than our own. You have a daughter who’s materialistic? She should spend a night a month volunteering in a homeless shelter. Are sports the only activities your teenage son cares about? Arrange for him to become a mentor to a younger child. These experiences might be uncomfortable at first, but they are ultimately transformative.

It’s certainly easier for us to explain to our children why they should approach a new school year with renewed passion and energy than it is for us to allow our children the fresh start that they also deserve at home. It’s difficult to let go of the deeply ingrained assumptions we make about our children. By holding on to them, though, we play a role in limiting their growth.

This year, this season of renewal happens to be colliding with unprecedented economic uncertainty. And for most New Yorkers, it feels as if we’re located at the epicenter of that uncertainty. I’ve heard several children in the past few weeks discuss the economy with great anxiety. Plenty of parents are out of work and plenty of families are feeling their belts tighten.

This uncertainty can result in even greater narcissism. But it also might create an unprecedented opportunity for parents and children alike to see the value of venturing into new territories, whether they are in debate or acts of kindness. We need to commit to renewing the effort to help our children see beyond their own circumstances. They will benefit, and so will we.

sarasberman@aol.com