Don’t get me wrong. Progress is fine; it’s fine in all its glory, with its smartphones, social media, hoverboards, and whatever the latest fad is. In essence, it’s the stuff that has made our lives more comfortable or, should I say, more sedentary. Although, I can’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia, a longing for what seems like an endangered concept – the playground.
Have you noticed how they’re disappearing, or worse, standing abandoned and derelict in parks only to be demolished? Who’s to blame for this? Well, statistically the USA has seen a reduction of 30% in playgrounds since 2007. Intensive urban development? Yes. Lawsuits over sprained ankles or skinned knees? Sure, why not? But the real monsters, the culprits that have stolen these magic fields of the imagination, are the iPads.
These technological wizards have rendered the monkey bars and swing sets obsolete. Kids can now run wild with their thumbs while sitting in one spot. Take my next-door neighbor’s kid, for example. Eight years old, and he spends more time on that glitzy tablet than any form of physical play. Natural evolution maybe, but it’s also the death of imaginative play.
When I was growing up right here in Schenectady, every weekend was a kaleidoscope of adventures, laughter, and scraped knees. My siblings and I would play pirates, astronauts, superheroes, you name it. The playground was a castle, a spaceship, or a deserted island, according to our whims. Mother would laugh and say, “Brian, you have more stories from the play yard than Hans Christian Andersen!”
Indeed, I did. Because the playground, ladies and gentlemen, was a place of profound wisdom. It’s where I learned the importance of sharing when Tommy Jenkins wouldn’t let me have a turn on the slide. It’s where I understood gravity, a concept that future engineers and astronauts comprehend on that swing set. It’s where little Mary Sue Thompson taught me my first taste of disappointment, right by the jungle gym. The steer clear of girls was a lesson that took me a while, harsh as it feels now, but it’s part of growing up, isn’t it?
This free form of play also fostered resilience. Once, I fell headfirst off the monkey bars, landed with a thud, dusted myself off, and climbed right back up. If it were today, I’d probably have a helicopter parent rushing over, wrapping me in cotton wool, and smacking a lawsuit on the city council.
And that’s another thing. The lack of playgrounds means kids don’t get to make their own decisions. The freedom to move, take risks, and adapt to situations is stripped away from them. In an overprotective environment where grazed elbows are seen as catastrophes and children’s play is excessively curated, they lose the ability to think outside the box. They’re encouraged to rely on instructors, algorithms, and the Wall Street Journal’s recommended snacks instead of their own judgment.
What’s more, playgrounds were vital for physical health. Cases of childhood obesity have tripled in the past four decades. Kids today spend an average of 5-7 hours a day in front of screens, leading to poor posture, increased levels of stress, and sleep disorders.
Before my back started playing up in my late forties (that’s the price of a lifetime of moving and shaking, and frankly, I wouldn’t have it any other way), the playground was my training ground for a life full of activity. Life happens outside, not in front of a screen!
This isn’t just me rattling on. The American Academy of Pediatrics agrees. Outdoor play stimulates physical activity, reduces anxiety, promotes creativity, and improves cognitive abilities. But I’m a writer, not a doctor, so don’t take my word on it. Just look around you.
When I walk my dog down Central Park every day, past the hollow remains of what was once a bustling playground, I see a generation of children who are missing out on lessons taught not by clicking but by playing. And it irks me. A lot.
So what’s to be done? Battle progress? Wage war against iPads? Of course not. But we can remember the value of playgrounds and remind those growing up today that life isn’t all about screens and sitting. Encourage them to take a sword and slice through the air, board a ship sailing through stormy seas, or construct a fortress in the middle of a jungle.
As the Greek philosopher Plato said, ”You can discover more about a person in an hour of play than a year of conversation.” I genuinely fear we’re at risk of losing that, and for once, I hope I’m wrong. Somebody, anybody, prove me wrong.
