The glow from a backseat video screen could be seen in the minivan that pulled up beside me on the Trans-Canada Highway during the pre-dawn commute. It would be safe to assume a parent was taking kids to day care and the video on the screen made for a calmer ride.
So many gadgets these days, so many things to capture a child’s attention. Too many.
Sure, they are handy as occasional babysittters, but as a steady diet, they rob kids of the opportunity to play, create and imagine.
Tired of seeing your kids with their eyes glued to screens, nothing moving except their thumbs? Next Christmas, don’t give them tablets or smartphones, give them a pile of dirt.
Best toy we ever had, that pile of dirt. Ours was a neighbourhood of feral children, turned out daily to fend for themselves without any visible parental supervision. We played many games, the rules of which don’t even make sense to me now. We fought, laughed, explored, climbed trees, found treasures.
And played in that pile of dirt. We built cities, farms, dams, roads, mountains and valleys. Destroyed them, too.
We were tool-using creatures, putting to use almost any object we could find — an excavation of that site now would probably explain the disappearance of many pieces of cutlery and small gardening tools over the years.
But most of all, we used our imaginations.
When toys and games do everything, kids are not playing, they’re being entertained. They are not learning the value and satisfaction of delayed gratification. Instead of being outside creating adventures from their imaginations and whatever else is at hand, they sit in front of a screen waiting for adventure to come to them.
You’ve probably seen endearing videos of young foxes at play — they run, tussle with each other, stalk imaginary prey. It’s obvious they are enjoying themselves, but they are also developing skills and strength for what lies ahead.
We cage our young in houses and schools for hours at a time, watching them constantly, directing their every move. After a few years of that, we turn them loose and expect them to be fully functioning adults.
Of course they need education. Of course they need to learn discipline. They need to develop good work habits; they need to acquire and process huge amounts of information to succeed.
But not all at once. They need to play. They need time to themselves and they need time to interact with other children of varied ages.
That doesn’t mean turning them loose all day long without direction and supervision, but they do need time in which they decide what to do. If they are bored, they need to learn that boredom is a self-inflicted disease easily cured with a little initiative.
But we get paranoid, wondering if they’ll be prepared for the next phase: high school, university, a career. We want so badly for them to succeed, we subject them to hectic schedules of organized athletics, music lessons and other structured activities. Structure is needed, but it should be a support, not a prison.
“I present compelling evidence that over the past 50 years — as children’s opportunities for free play and exploration have declined — there has been a dramatic rise in anxiety, depression and suicide in young people, who have not had the opportunity that free play provides to find meaning and joy in life,” writes Peter Gray, author and Boston College developmental psychologist.
Not every yard has a pile of dirt, but this region is blessed with something better — beaches. Rocks, sand, water, sticks, shells, strange critters scurrying abound — it’s paradise. And there are few places better for children to play, supervised from a safe distance, of course, and cautioned about such hazards as high waves, but allowed to let their imaginations and their creativity go wild.
Of course, they’ll get wet. They should get wet. And dirty. And tired. And happy.
If children are to succeed as adults, they need to succeed as children. They don’t need to be working on their resumés, they need to be playing.
