There are a lot of things that get my knickers in a knot in schools. Worksheets, for starters – why… just why? The lack of attention we pay to the Arts. Our obsession with testing as though filling in bubbles and making children who are more unique than snowflakes all complete the same task is going to provide us with magical insight that will transform education forever… oh, I could go on and on.
Right at the top of my list, however, is this kind of nonsense… the kind that I recently read about in this great blog post called Dear Public School: It’s Not Me, It’s You. In it, a mother details some of the nonsensical rules and, quite frankly, borderline abusive behaviour that she witnessed as her son started kindergarten. It’s enough to make you weep.
“The kindergarten class didn’t have grass. I was told that there’s no running on asphalt. “It’s not safe and can cause really bad scrapes.” By definition, scrapes are not really bad. Scrapes, bumps, and bruises should be a part of childhood—they’re how kids learn to manage risk. Scrapes now prevent worse decisions later.
I was told that the school could not meet my child’s energy needs and that instead he needed to get his energy out at “running club” every morning. The thought of five-year-olds running laps to provide an energy release for what they should be getting through creative play at recess was stunning.”
Read the whole thing – it’s worth it.
Mercifully, mer-ci-ful-ly, we don’t have anywhere near this level of control in our schools here in Northern Town and, as I think it would be in most Canadian schools, a “no running outside” policy would be considered lunacy. However, there is a very well intentioned tendency to manage risk to the point that there is no fun left outside for children. As teachers, we become not just the ice police, we become the fun police. Our job becomes to suck the life out of outdoor play in order to mitigate risk; we are playground vampires.
The embodiment of this paradigm is our relationship with sticks. We have, forgive me, a stick up our you-know-where when it comes to sticks. We confiscate them regardless of whether they’re being used dangerously on benignly. It’s “no sticks” just like it’s “no running.”
Children play with sticks; it is practically natural law. Set a kid loose in a forest and within seconds she will have a stick in her hand. They are magnetically attracted to them. Our students have been seeking out sticks since they first wandered into the greenspace at the back of our playground. We have a huge number of them right now since some brush was cleared to accommodate power lines.
They use them in myriad ways. They use them as fishing rods, they use them to build cabins and tipis, they use them as walking sticks, to break ice, to dig, they hit rocks with them, just to see what kind of sound they make. They also… it has to be said… sometimes wave them around, like swords.
Now – I have seen children, little boys especially, turn chiffon scarves into swords – they will turn anything into a sword – absolutely anything. Do they turn sticks into swords? They do. Do they occasionally hit someone with a stick? They do. Can we teach them not to do either of those things? We can. We really, really can.
Children can hit each other with their fists, they can kick each other with their feet… and yet we amputate neither. We teach them not to; we work really hard at teaching them not to do that. We can do the same with sticks. We can choose to say: “here’s this amazing natural material that offers so many possibilities; we’re going to notice and validate the good and work on mitigating and modifying the bad.” We can choose not to be absolutists and we can be intellectual enough to see the subtlety of the issue. We want kids to run on the playground. They need to run on the playground. They also need sticks. We rob them of so much when we take them away.
Have you see this? The Importance of Playing With Fire (Literally)
Watch it and then think about that for a minute. What are we losing out on by constraining children’s play to the point that we remove all of the risk? What’s left for kids? What kind of adults will they be? Think hard before you confiscate that next stick… please.