Play, we are told, is the work of children. Einstein wrote that when children play it is the beginning of all research. A classic example that philosophy might be the great American architect Frank Lloyd Wright. As a youngster his mother sat him down and introduced him to Froebel’s “Gifts and Occupations” It is a set of basic wooden shapes – a square block of wood, a wooden ball, triangle, and so on. His mother asked him to look and play with the block, and gently asked him leading questions – what does it feel like, why do you think all the sides are equal sizes, and so on.
Each week his mother handed him another objects. With each one, the questions became a little more complicated: What all can you make with the block and the triangle, and the oblong piece of wood. They would explore and play together, and then his mum would leave the room so young Frank could continue exploring on his own. Froebel designed these simple blocks as a form of creative play for children, but play with a purpose, and young Frank made the most of it for the rest of his life. Look at his home designs, furniture, and decorations, and the ideas of Froebel are evident.
His second oldest son, John Lloyd Wright, carried on that tradition when, in 1916, he introduced Lincoln Logs to the world. Children and adults have been playing, creating, and maybe even researching with them ever since. They have learned what works and what does not, and ideas for design and construction.
Play is always important, whether a child learns to play on his or her own or plays with a group and learns how to socialize. Play opens a young person’s eyes, ears, and mind to the wonders of the world around them. Earlier this summer for instance, the fireflies (lightning bugs, to some) begin rising out of the grasses around sunset. I’ll bet that I am not the only one in the country who borrowed a pint Mason jar, poked a few holes in the lid, and went chasing after them. They weren’t that hard to catch, and a few of them in the jar not only fascinated us but introduced to a new aspect of nature.
They also inspire us. The temporary sign on a church marquee read, “If God can light up a bug’s butt, imagine what God can do for you.”
Play is fun reading that expands our imagination, whether it is Mike Mulligan and his Steamshovel or
the Harry Potter novels by JK Rawlings. For me, it was the nature books by the late Sam Campbell and the national parks in magazines. Fun reading opens new ideas to us.
Or, if you are of a certain age, perhaps you remember this flimsy balsa wood gliders, or the deluxe version that had a plastic propeller and was powered by a rubber band. Maybe you had one of those plastic water-propelled “rockets” that had to be pumped one hundred times and then released. Play. Pure play except that during it you were discovering a few lessons in aerodynamics, water pressure, and more.
Play is a stamp album because, in a very sneaky way, while looking at all those colored pieces of paper and putting them in an album, children are learning geography, about people, places, and events. They just don’t know they are learning or that it is educational. Play is collecting sports cards. We might dream of someday having a valuable collection, but all along we were learning reading and math skills and statistics.
This “work of children” is also a wonderful opportunity to at least fantasize and explore possibilities for future adult work. The youngster who is thrilled by fireflies might never pursue a career in biology, but then again, it might happen. The kid who loves stargazing might end up become an astronomer or Astrophysicist. Or perhaps develop a hobby passed on to the next generations.
For summer school one year I got to ‘play’ with a manual typewriter in the morning, and ‘play’ at writing short stories in the afternoon session. That seems to have worked out pretty well for me, although it took a few decades.
The late David McCullough, who died this August, began with a manual typewriter, had some journeyman newspaper jobs to learn the trade, and then made the switch to becoming modern America’s great historian. He carefully picked a topic, the criteria being one that would be ‘fun’ for him. Some topics and individuals didn’t make the cut, of course. And then he settled into working on the. It was good solid history, but he made it fun to read. We were invited in to the subject’s world, whether it was a President or the Brooklyn Bridge.
It seems to me that we are rushing children from infancy straight to adulthood, with no time out for the play and fun that is the true work of all children. Some parents are piling on the pressure to excel in school, sports, or the performing and visual arts instead of encouraging them to have fun. I understand they want their young children to succeed, perhaps get into a good school, preferably on a substantial scholarship. After that, get into a good and highly profitable profession so they can join the right golf or yacht clubs, and be even more successful.
When I was an adjunct professor, I would sometimes talk with first semester first year students who were in a frenzy because they hadn’t declared a major or decided what they were going to do once they had graduated. My response was that it was a good thing because the first year of college is a wonderful opportunity to explore all the possible options.
Children need to play. They need the time to be a fire fighter in the morning and then, in the afternoon decide they are now a farmer, or something else, and the next day, something entirely different. They aren’t playing at any of their careers; for a little while they really are a farmer, banker, teacher, or something else. As Einstein wrote, that sort of play is research and exploration, not a life-time commitment or contract.
A generation or so ago parents and society, for that matter, made a concerted effort for children to remain children as long as possible. I remember the hushed discussions The Olds was having about the potential dangers of a Catholic president, and how we might all have to worship the Pope if he won. And a year or so later, I saw the long and anxious faces of my father and more of the Olds as a country slipped into a recession. They kept the discussions among themselves and put on a brave face around children. There was no point in involving us when we couldn’t do anything about it.
Now, it seems that we are pushing children into the realm of things that belong to The Old’s, and denying them the opportunity to explore, learn, and research. And, most importantly, have fun.
Play remains the true work of children, and play remains a form of childhood research. Let them have all the fun, provided it is safe, of course, if possible.
