Exploring Childhood Play and Adventure
This week, my daughter joined a wonderful group of girls in a local explorers club here in Bellingham. It is a thoughtfully designed and inspiring program that runs through December, blending environmental service projects with hands on (and feet in!) exploration of Whatcom County’s coasts and woodlands.
Bellingham, like most small cities and large towns across the country, has a growing number of sports and activity programs available to young children. The Explorers Club for Girls is a relatively new offering in the area and I’m really impressed. It stands out from the growing number of youth activity programs found on community events pages across the country. It has real substance.
Like modern intentional living communities being developed (in growing numbers around the world) by the vision and desire of individuals seeking to [re]create collaborative, cohesive communities; something that occurred naturally years ago — many of today’s youth activity programs attempt to [re]capture the spirit of play and adventure which occurred naturally in neighborhoods years ago.
Many children today are involved in several after school or weekend programs throughout the year; be they community theater groups, soccer teams, themed day camps, arts and crafts classes or whatever else is offered in towns and cities around the country during any given season. Unfortunately — organic, naturally occurring, creative neighborhood play is becoming less common as the number and variety of organized, structured activities being offered increases. As a result, many neighborhoods are empty after school and on weekends.
There are some obvious reasons for the shift from unstructured, creative neighborhood play to participation in organized, structured activities. During the 1970s, when I was popping wheelies on my banana seated, sissy barred chopper down Lockwood Drive, only one-third of families in America were dual-income households. Because mom or dad was around, most children went home after school and spent the afternoons and weekends coming together with neighborhood friends to create adventure on their own. We explored on our bikes, played capture the flag in the woods, built forts and played until the street lamps came on.
Today, over sixty percent of households are dual income. In many families, there simply isn’t anyone at home when the afternoon school bell rings. Some parents, who are at home, are reluctant to allow their children to explore their environment unsupervised today — even though national crime rates are lower now than they were when children ran the streets freely when I was a boy in the 1970s. Regardless, some parents today have a perception that it is dangerous to let children explore their surroundings today without an adult close by. As a result of these and other factors, more children are emigrating from their local neighborhoods to neutral fields of play so they can participate in structured programs than they were when I was growing up. I refer to this in Games We Played;
Children today are shuttled back and forth, to and from organized, structured activities. There are coaches, uniforms, instructions, skills assessments, fees and commitments in modern play. Houses are no longer connected by the footprints of children, and many neighborhoods are quiet today. Children no longer have to invent games; they just have to participate in them. They don’t make the rules, the abide by them. They don’t pick the teams, they join them. (page 156)
The Girls Explorers Club is an exception in that it provides rich experiences that most children can’t access locally (or spontaneously) in their local neighborhoods or without adult guidance. The service projects alone make clubs like these so worthwhile for all children. These experiences inspire children, bond them with their peers, build confidence and create lasting memories. The boy scouts, girl scouts and other such programs are similar.
I hope that children today find a balance between participating in organized activities and creating their own adventures in life. I hope that they still jump over bushes to knock on a friend’s door, with a ball in their hand and a game on their mind. I hope that they have a desire to explore, whether they are a member of an explorers club of not. I hope that there are still balls and pucks and sticks and bats and ropes lining neighborhood streets today. I hope that forts, hideouts and other crudely built fortresses are being built in the woods. I hope that the goals are still marked by the shirts and hats of the players and that the bats are being made from old mop handles and not bought in stores. Most of all, I hope that the footprints of play will connect houses in neighborhoods again.
Autumn is here! Open the door and let the children play.
Related rants:
The Shift from Unstructured Childhood Play to Organized Activity
Autumn Inspiration
I have been remiss about posting on the blog during the last few months. Summer took me away, distracting me effortlessly with her long, warm days. But as Autumn breezes in, it brings a fresh perspective about play and childhood and adventure. My girls returned to school today, excited about the year ahead. There is something about the autumn that refreshes me. Football season begins — teams and children huddle, each on their own turf, to play — and I begin to write again.
I hope you all had a wonderful summer and that you are looking forward to the second half of the game as much as I am.
[cue the marching band]
Converse, Pro-Keds and Skippies
Kareem Abdul-Jabbar wore Pro-Keds. So did Pistol Pete Maravich. Of course Chuck Taylor was wearing Converse way back in 1921, before Pro-Keds were even on the scene. Elton Brand wears converse still today when playing hoops. The thing is, back in the 1970s and 80s, if you wore either Converse or Pro-Keds, you were cool even if there was some ongoing debate between camps about which kicks were the coolest.
Unfortunately for me and many other young, impressionable boys growing up in the 1970s and 80s; our parents didn’t necessarily care if other children thought we were cool or not. There were times when our desire to be cool and trendy was trumped by our parent’s budget and practicality. Little did they know at the time that walking into school with a new pair of skippies meant immediate ridicule and stomps on our feet as chants of “Skippies! Skippies!” echoed down the hallways.
Did you ever wear skippies? Does the memory still haunt you?
Disconnecting from Technology for the Sake of Childhood
I am just back after five days camping on the beach at Spencer Spit on Lopez Island with the family. There is something magical about spending the day (let alone five days) at the beach. We camped with eight other families from our girl’s school. There were twenty-three children altogether. They played all sorts of games, with minimal interference from the parents.
There were no televisions, no radios, no computers, no video games, no motorized toys and no time to think about any of those distractions. It was so refreshing to see children having so much fun with driftwood, stones, shells, sand, water and most importantly, each other.
It was a week of bliss — for the children and their parents.
When was the last time you disconnected from the busyness of modern life and [re]connected with your children?
Childhood: The Age of Exploration
Children are curious creatures.
Or at least we used to be…
When I was young, I was an apprentice entomologist. I spent hours watching ants forage for food and bring it back to their ant hills. Interestingly, I don’t see any ant hills here in the Pacific Northwest. They were everywhere in upstate New York. Alabama had many too, but they were of the red ant variety (and you didn’t want to get too close to those!) In New York, we had the medium size black ants, and their small dirt mounds had a small entrance at the top through which they would enter and exit, rubbing antennae as they passed each other at the portal to their complex chambers underground.
Yes, I also explored the dramatic effects of the sun when its rays were magnified. What can I say, I was a curious child. I also remember exploring magnification on the backs of friends necks when we were standing in line at the Assumption School. Ouch!
I was also an archeologist. As a young, curious boy, I spent days sifting through the eroding bank of soft dirt at the edge of Lockwood Drive on the way down into the Annsville woods. I found some really cool things too. Some Indian arrowheads and old medicine bottles from past civilizations. Everything that I brought back into the house at the end of the day was a real treasure to me. For some reason, my mother didn’t think so. But then, she wasn’t an archeologist like me, was she?
Of course, like all young archeologists, we tried to dig to China a few times as well.
Most of the time, I was an explorer. Some of my favorite childhood memories involve long hours pedaling down new streets and paths on my banana seat bike with the center gear shaft. Every turn down a previously unexplored avenue held endless possibilities. As an explorer, the top of every hill had potential to offer the most magnificent view. Each new trail off the road might lead to a secret world, previously unexplored by any other kids in the neighborhood — an undiscovered landmark full of mystery and adventure. A young boy couldn’t resist a mysterious trail or unknown road. We were childhood pioneers and adventure was our game.
We also explored old buildings that were left vacant for whatever reason. There was a sense of danger when we did this, especially if the vacant building had a No Trespassing sign nearby. But, that just made us more curious. Why do they not want people trespassing there? What are they trying to hide?
The fact that we most likely read a Hardy Boys mystery the night before only stoked our imaginations of what might be in the next room or in the concealed cave in the woods. The Fort Hill woods in Peekskill actually had some cool hidden caves, and plenty of Revolutionary War remnants, like old stone walls where muskets once lay. We had BB gun wars in the Fort Hill woods. Don’t worry. We had a two-pump rule.
As children, adventure was our business. We were curious about everything around us. It didn’t take much to get our imagination running wild. I sometimes wonder if children today are filled with such curiosity about everything around them. Are they still energized with adrenaline when a new path is discovered? Do they still think there is treasure underneath their feet?
I hope so, because there is.
There really is.
Tug of War: The Ultimate Team Sport
I can’t remember where I played tug of war, but I remember being on a number of different tug of war teams throughout my childhood. It was always the main event — the ultimate determining factor of who was the real champion of the day.
In fact, tug of war has been played for thousands of years, since 500BC, all over the world. As such, it is one of the oldest team activities ever played. In ancient Greece, teams of 3 men played without a rope. They would hold each other by the waist and try to pull the other team over a line marked on the ground. Tug of war was an Olympic sport until 1920, when the International Olympic Committee (IOC) reduced the number of activities in the competition and it was dropped. It’s a shame, really. Nothing would top off the Olympic games better than a tug of war competition.
Generally, the rules are pretty straightforward. There are 6-8 people per team. Each team holds one end of a 120 foot long rope which is marked in the center with a piece of tape or marker. When the referee yells “Pull!” the teams try to pull the other team 15 feet from the center point, so that the center tape in the middle of the rope passes over the 15 foot line on one side. When this happens, there is a lot of hooting and hollering and pumping of chests.
Victory in tug of war relies not on the strength of one player on a team, but the ability of the team to work together in a rhythm to maximize their effect on the other team.
The 2010 Tug of War World Championships will be held in South Africa in September, 2010.
The reigning World Games champion is the Netherlands in the mens 680kg division.
Kids love tug of war, but tug of war isn’t necessarily kids stuff.
Arm severing incident
On October 25, 1997, Yang Chiung-ming and Chen Ming-kuo each had their left arms severed below the shoulder during a massive Tug-of-War event in Taipei, Taiwan. During the event, the rope immediately snapped and the sheer rebounding force of the broken rope tore off the men’s arms. Reports of the incident had evolved into an urban legend incorrectly stating that the men had their arms wrapped around the rope; in fact, neither man had his arm wrapped around the rope, meaning that the rebounding force of the rope was solely responsible for the injuries.
Unsuitable rope
In the German town of Westernohe 650 young scouts participated in a tug of war in 1995. When the rope broke, only 30 sec. into the tug, two children were killed and 102 participants suffered injuries. The rope was judged to be unsuited for the use in the related court case.
Partially severed hands
Two Lutheran High School students in Parker, Colorado had their right hands partially severed in a pep rally tug of war between members of the senior and junior classes on October 12, 2007.
Stick Shift Controls, Swivel Action Rear Wheels
Eight, nine, ten years old; old enough for the Green Machine!
A racer for guys who like a ride that’s really fast.
Stick shift controls, swivel action rear wheels!
Twist, turn and spin like wild!
What a ride!
But the Green Machine never managed to take pole position away from Big Wheels. Personally, I wasn’t attracted to the stick shift controls.
Did you or anyone you know own a Green Machine? How was the ride?
Big Fun on Big Wheels
Big Wheels was the first bike for many kids in my neighborhood. Having a Big Wheels was a childhood rite. It was one of those toys that every kid wanted (and usually got) at some stage of their life. Even older kids were attracted to the well designed, plastic roadster. Big Wheels had an excellent turning radius and could pick up good speed on a flat surface — and especially when going down a steep hill. Did I mention that there were no brakes on Big Wheels?
Well, Big Wheels are still popular today, and every year on Easter Sunday in San Francisco, they hold a Big Wheels race down the steep and windy Lombard Street. Sure, the event celebrates Big Wheels. More importantly though, it celebrates the spirit of childhood!
I just love the bit at the end of the video (@ 2:00) when the woman is asked “How’d you do that race?” and she beams and enthusiastically replies “Real well. Thanks! Last.”
Did you have a Big Wheels when you were a kid?
If not, are you going to get one this year?
Every young boy hears of local legends as their geography of exploration expands with age. I remember walking by a giant’s house on Division Street every day on my way from Highland Park to the Assumption School. For years, I looked down at the mysterious house, wondering if I would ever get a glimpse of the giant. I never did. So the legend remains.
A couple of years later, I heard of legends further afield. The Blue Mountain Reservation was on the other end of town, at the intersection of Washington Street and Welcher Avenue. Blue Mountain was a wonderful, secluded getaway for older kids. It also had a beach on Lounsbury Pond (with lifeguards) where we could cool off on hot summer days — if we dared!
Legend had it that there was a monstrous snapping turtle lurking in Lounsbury Pond. It wasn’t just any old snapping turtle. This was the mother of all snapping turtles. Reports came in periodically from people fishing on the pond. Over the years, the creature broke plenty of lines and even snapped some fishing poles. Some kids made it their mission to catch the creature. But she was crafty, and made few appearances. When she did appear, it was only for long enough to keep the legend alive.
Is this the legendary Blue Mountain Snapping Turtle?
It was very common to see turtles in Lounsbury Pond. Whether they were snapping turtles or not, I’m not sure. But turtles, in general, were plentiful; so the possibility that there was a giant snapping turtle lurking beneath the murky waters of Lounsbury Pond was very real to any kid who swam there. Any movement near your feet caused an instinctive surge of adrenaline. Would this be the moment when I meet the feared beast?
By the time I left Peekskill for college in 1983, nobody had caught the elusive beast. There were a few times when people thought they did, but a future sighting revealed that even the biggest turtles caught paled in comparison to the legendary Blue Mountain snapping turtle.
So if you ever find yourself on a beach at the Blue Mountain Reservation in Peekskill, New York; keep your eyes peeled for a shadow beneath the water’s surface. If you are brave enough to actually go into the water, remember the legend and mind your toes.
How to Play SPUD (S-P-U-D)
S-P-U-D is a wonderful courtyard or backyard game that requires at least three players and a rubber playground ball. One player is picked to be “It”. Whoever is selected to be “It” counts aloud to ten. As “It” counts, the other players scatter away from “It.” For large areas, boundaries or out-of-bounds should be set so that people can’t run too far away.
When “It” reaches ten, the other players must stop where they are. “It” then takes four giant steps toward any other player (normally, the closest player to them) and throws the ball at them. If the ball hits the person, that person gets an “S” for SPUD. If the ball misses the person, then “It” gets an “S”. The person who was being thrown at then is “It” and the game continues until all players but one is S-P-U-D, either by being hit four times or missing. Some versions allow the person being thrown at to catch the ball, causing “It” to get a letter (like in Dodgeball.)
