14 June 2012

Play.


While it is ultimately up to parents how best to deal with the risks to their children, it is worth asking the question whether the pendulum has swung too far. As children withdrew from public spaces, those spaces became less safe – not more. And the withdrawal became habitual. Hence, children between grades 6 and 12 spend an average of seven hours 48 minutes on various screens each day. Horrifying, if true. And not without risks, whether from the health problems associated with a sedentary life, cyberbullying or even pedophiles reaching through their screens. But more than all that, how do we quantify the more subtle risk of losing spontaneous play from childhood? It is not a catastrophic risk – but it’s close.

Read the rest of "The Loss of Spontaneous Play From Childhood" here.

This year an interesting thing started happening in my class. I've never experienced it before -- fifth grade students didn't want to go outside for recess. Recess was becoming "a pain" to them. "Do we have to go out for recess?" they would whine. "It's either that or stay in here and listen to my bluegrass music," would be my reply. That usually did the trick. So would walking out with them to the the treeline and and exploring the small wonders of the woods or stretching out in the grass, staring up at the cloud architecture above and asking questions like a scientist or an artist would ask. Later, these activities were the fertilizer for great pieces written by these same reluctant kids.

My point is that kids need guidance. Kids have a fire inside of them. They need a trail guide to show them the glories at their feet. They need to be taught.

My dad used to say, "Get outside." He said this not so that he could have some peace and quiet or take a nap (which he probably wanted to do and certainly deserved). He said it so that we would grow in the appreciation of ourselves and our surroundings, so that we would be physically, mentally, and spiritually healthy. Trees in our woods had names that came from a great deal of time contemplating their shape and personality. One night after my sister and I had already been to bed, dad brought the news that school had been cancelled for the next day, and within minutes we were excitedly traipsing through those same woods "looking for Redcoat camps." Throughout the night we evaded the British sentries by diving beneath the thousands of Christmas trees that filled the neighboring farm, sustained only by mom's Christmas cookies with which dad had filled the pockets of his o.d. green field coat.

Kids need a role model, a guide, an inspiration. Kids need a parent. Nothing is more important.

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