The Lost Art of Fooling Around

I recently received a call from a company hoping to contact with our school's afterschool programs, teaching basic physical games and play skills. Wait, what? Play skills, seriously? Are we in so much danger as a society, after over-scheduling and over-analyzing our kids that we now have to teach them to play???

My daughter has several friends who are in therapy right now, learning how to handle all the stress in their lives. Stress? They are eleven. Eleven, my friends. Instead of scheduling them to see the therapist, maybe they ought to think about taking a few things off the kids' plates. When did it become necessary to apply for high schools, when here I thought it was a required part of growing up? And when did it become necessary to go into Middle School speaking foreign languages, being able to play an instrument, having already taken your PSATs and having an entire future already planned out. Kindergarteners should NOT be thinking about where they will go to college, people.

So, now we're realizing that something is wrong and there is a basic need not being met, and we're filling the gap by teaching organized classes in how to play? Whatever happened to just plain fooling around? Going outside with friends, siblings,...parents. Throwing a ball around, squirting a garden hose, building a fort that will never get finished, building mudpies, playing ball in someone's backyard? Mistakes are how we learn, as human beings. We're hardwired to profit from messing up. Having someone teach you how to correct social skills step-by-step is not learning.

So, I do not have a degree in psychology or sociology. I've spent 1/3 of my life working with kids and am raising two children of my own. Not exactly stellar qualifications, but I think I know the answer. It's stunning, and probably will need much research (said with eye rolling, of course). Here it is:

Turn off the cell phones. Turn off the tv. Go outside. Get out of the car. Get out of the drive through. Cancel the ballet lessons, the French lessons, the hip hop class and the karate. Take the kids out of Kumon and out of Sylvan for the afternoon. Go to the park. Go to the skating rink. Go to the beach. Make dinner together. Build a treehouse. Ride your bikes. Read a book together. Cancel the pre-planned playdates, and go meet your neighbors instead.

That's all. It's not high tech. It's not supported by research. It's not even a developed plan. But I can guarantee you that stress levels would drop and play would be found.

Go fool around.

In Memory of a Storyteller

In searching for a Shakespeare quote tonight, I happened across a quote by Madeleine L'Engle, who just happens to be my favorite author of all time. Yes, I've said it....while I am quite wowed by the Bronte sisters, love to be seduced by Tolstoy and Ayn Rand, and dozens of others, it's this one woman to whom I owe so much. And in finding this quote, I am mourning again the loss of such a fabulous life.

I never thought that I would be so impressed with a person I have never met, but there you are. From the first time I read A Wrinkle in Time, to the moment I picked up Glimpses of Grace, I have been enraptured by a woman who saw the world through both the wide eyes of a child and the wisdom of several generations. She was the first person who made me see the possibility of science and religion living in harmony.

Madeline L'Engle wrote about crazy aunts and angels, dolphins and John Donne, mitochondria and sibling rivalry. She addressed my soul, made me question my faith, and helped me to accept my own humanity, all through her writing.

When we lost power last Fall, and my family lived without power for two weeks, following Hurricane Ike, my children and I passed the evenings reading Many Waters by candlelight. What a wonderful story that gave me the gift of talking to my children about choosing right from wrong, and the battle between what are simply the forces of good and of evil. Her stories were never just stories, but rather a way to open conversation. You could never read one of her many layered children's stories without asking yourself some pretty serious questions.

I was only five when my brother first read A Wrinkle in Time to me. I can still remember the voices he used, the personalities he gave to Mrs. Who and Mrs. Which. WHen I read that story today, I can still hear his voice and I am connected to the child I used to be.

I can mark the stages of my life by the books I have read. Madeleine L'Engle has been my constant, the stories I return to again and again, and the author who has grown even as I have grown too.

The world misses her voice, her humor, and her humanity. I only wish that I could have thanked her.