I was 3 years old, playing at a neighbor’s house, when—as I recall—Mom entered the house in a not-quite-panicked hurry to drag me home. Apparently, the neighbor called my mom, informing her that her daughter just broke out with chicken pox; my brother and I were surely exposed.
Yep. That’s how I got it—playing at a friend’s house.
Childhood for me involved a great deal of play—imaginative, creative, outdoors, indoors, with siblings, with friends. It involved fun and pain, lots of getting along, and a few fights along the way.
In elementary school, I certainly learned stuff in the classroom—the basics, of course: reading, writing, arithmetic, science, history. But we also learned a great deal on the playground.
It took courage to conquer fear, climb the mile-high slide, and risk burning your legs on the shiny steel descent.
I learned a measure of trust getting on the teeter-totter with another kid. And I learned how trust is betrayed when the other guy hops off while his end is on the ground!
My buddies and I had to be creative to turn the fire escape stairwell into an army fort where we could spy on everyone else. Even that safe retreat was fraught with danger, though. I misjudged how low a jagged-edged support was and hit it with my head. The next thing I knew, I was in the nurse’s office, a cold, wet rag pressed on the gash while I waited for Mom to come and pick me up.
Various playground games—tag, Red Rover, hide-&-seek, streets & alleys—demanded that we all get along for the sake of the game, even if we weren’t really friends. Some things just had to be overlooked.
For me, kindergarten through 7th grade was split between two towns in Ohio: Wellington, a small rural town, and Niles, a small industrial city. In both settings, the neighborhood kids quickly found one another and learned how to play together.
In Niles, Johnny Danmeyer, the Woods brothers, my brothers, and I had some intense army battles in our large yard and the farm field beyond. Our guns didn’t even have orange tips, either! And we had to learn how to accept the shout, “I got you!” and drop “dead.” If no one ever “got” anyone, what’s the point, right?
On summer evenings, hide-and-seek and kick-the-can occupied us until it got too dark to see.
It was with Dan one summer afternoon that I learned the power of matches—and the serious danger. I snuck the box of blue-tip matches from the kitchen, and we stole way to the backyard behind a bush on the edge of the farm field. Seemed like it’d be cool to put a pile of matches on a rock—tips in the middle—and use one match as a fuse with its tip facing out. To our juvenile minds, it was exciting to watch the pile catch all at once, creating a huge burst of flame and smoke!
Only problem was, Mom saw the billowing smoke rise from behind the bush, and I got a tongue lashing and stern warning about the danger of setting the farmer’s field ablaze. Her warning was reinforced some time later when my friend’s house across the street caught fire in the middle of the night!
It took courage to conquer fear, climb the mile-high slide…
We couldn’t wait for the warmer days of Spring to arrive so we could pull out the ball gloves, bat, and baseball for some sandlot ball games.
In the Fall, we traded the baseball for a football and spent many an afternoon after school and on Saturdays pretending we were pros. This continued into Winter, with exciting games of tackle football in the snow.
Once again, with these neighborhood games sans adult oversight, we had to learn how to play fair, be honest with each other, take our lumps, and negotiate differences. Even the guy who owned the ball had to learn he couldn’t demand his way or he’d take his ball and go home—he, too, would miss out on the fun.
Of course, we didn’t live outdoors—even though we spent all the time we could out of the house! But play thrived indoors, too.
Our family played many board games (we had a TV from the time I was in 2nd grade, but it wasn’t on all that much). Parcheesi was a favorite.
Mostly, we invented indoor play. Things like creating a fort out of dining room chairs, pillows from the couch, sheets, blankets—turned the entire living room into a hideout or fort or camping tent. We even got to sleep in it a couple of times!
Life wasn’t all fun & games in my childhood—as it certainly isn’t in life!
In the school classroom, discipline and structure were part of the curriculum. Misbehavior was dealt with by a trip to the principal’s office and perhaps with the “board of education” applied to the “seat of learning.” In some cases, writing “I will not…..” on the chalkboard 100 times served as an effective tool for the miscreant. The potential humiliation of standing in the corner curbed some childish antics. Pity the kid who had to stand there for all to see, right? Well…I’m not so sure. Experience it once, and you’ll think twice before throwing a spitball again!
Our family went to church, too. Every Sunday. Morning and evening services. Wednesday evening, too. While we had kids’ church on Sunday morning, as a young child, I had to learn how to sit reasonably still during those evening services—without an electronic gizmo or even a bag full of books and crayons or markers. I was being trained to pay attention to something for more than a few seconds.
On rare occasions—maybe once a month—our family would go to a restaurant for dinner. It may be hard to believe, but the four of us kids sat at the table without a phone or iPad to look at, and there were no TVs mounted on the restaurant wall, either! We sat there throughout the whole meal! Amazing.
Now, all of this isn’t merely for the purpose of nostalgic recollection. I’m pondering the significant difference between the typical childhood experiences of my youth and those of today.
My wife and I are in the middle of listening to an audiobook, The Anxious Generation by Jonathan Haidt, which details the effects of digital media on today’s children and youth. He distinguishes between the play-based childhood of my upbringing and the modern “phone-based childhood” that has developed since 2010.
I’ll not elaborate here, but suffice it to say, Haidt makes a compelling case for parents to be far more vigilant and restrictive in their children’s use of smartphones, tablets, and video gaming. In place of isolating and self-absorbing technology, he argues, children need to play…outdoors…with others.
Speaking broadly, today’s children and youth are failing to learn through play many important, valuable lessons and skills for living in the “real world.” Their values are shaped more by social media, YouTubers, and video games than by wise parental and spiritual guidance as well as through the experience of wholesome play.
Relationship skills remain undeveloped as well. Isolated, self-absorbed children and young people don’t learn how to get along with those unlike them, how to negotiate, how to handle different, strongly held opinions without feeling “threatened” or “unsafe.”
In pondering all of this, it struck me that even the Bible alludes to the need for child’s play.
No, there’s no command that says, “Thou shalt send thy children outside to play.” And ample passages certainly address the need for teaching and training youth. For example, one from each “testament”:
These words which I command you today shall be in your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and talk of them when you sit in your house, when you walk by the way, when you lie down, and when you rise up. – Deuteronomy 6:6-7
And you, fathers, do not provoke your children to wrath, but bring them up in the training and admonition of the Lord. – Ephesians 6:4
So yes, children need some degree of formalized, structured teaching and training.
But they also need to play.
Interestingly, Jesus alludes to this. He draws a comparison to some of His harsh critics by alluding to child’s play.
They are like children sitting in the marketplace and calling to one another, saying: ‘We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we mourned to you, and you did not weep.’ – Luke 7:32
Note that Jesus references a very common scene: children playing in the market. And there’s more. Some of the kids are fussing at others—they’re not all getting along splendidly, are they? Not at all an aberrant playground occurrence, but definitely one in which children gain some life skills.
Two other interesting passages depict the utopian, peaceful reign of God’s Messiah.
The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, The leopard shall lie down with the young goat, The calf and the young lion and the fatling together; And a little child shall lead them…. The nursing child shall play by the cobra’s hole, And the weaned child shall put his hand in the viper’s den. – Isaiah 11:6, 8
The streets of the city shall be full of boys and girls playing in its streets.’ – Zechariah 8:5
What will children do in this realm of peace and tranquility?
Play.
Even in seemingly dangerous situations…with big animals and poisonous snakes…and in the street!
Go ahead, unplug the stuff and send the kids outside to play!
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