My husband and I have hated for a while now that our kids are not afforded the same childhood as we had. One of freedom and exploration, of making new friends and triumphing over bullies. In today’s world, kids are not allowed to simply go and play. They have to be watched like hawks, well meaning grown-ups sweeping in at every possible conflict opportunity and fixing any problem faster than the kids can even register what’s going on. It has been well documented over and over and over again that unsupervised play is really good for kids, yet our culture of constant fear has robbed the latest few generations of that sacred right of passage.
We’ve both read countless articles, op-ed’s, study overviews, and think pieces on the benefits of letting your children play. We’ve both read statistical analyses on the dangers associated with playing unsupervised in neighborhoods like our own. We understand the risks. None of that ever once made us uncomfortable with letting our children play out front…the one thing that has has been the intrusion by various busy bodies who called the cops of CPS on parents for letting their kids walk to the park alone, play in their front yards, play at a park, or play in the rain, causing a nightmare and sometimes arrests or the unnecessary removal of the children from the home. Just a quick Google search will pull up countless more examples.
In talking to other parents with children our kids’ ages, it became clear that there has been a clear cultural shift in fear. Instead of fearing for our children’s safety, fearing abductions or what not, parents now feared their, probably well intending, neighbors. Every person on your street is now suspect. Not of abducting, hurting, molesting, your child…but of robbing them of the opportunity to play, of calling the cops and causing the family to lose thousands of dollars if not much much more.
For as much as we lamented the ‘culture of fear,’ it has been extremely difficult not to participate in it.
Well, during Spring Break this year, we decided to fight back.
We sat the kids down and gave them very strict guidelines, rules, and parameters. And then we let them play. We definitely sat in the living room and watched out of the big window but they didn’t know that. And most importantly we rarely interfered, and when we did it was only to reinforce the rules for safety, not to mitigate fights and arguments, not to dictate how they played.
For a couple of days they played out front every afternoon, riding their bikes up and down our portion of the street, playing in the trees, waving at neighbors and passersby, meeting lots of puppies, but soon something magical started to happen. It started with just one, and then by the end of the week there was another. And siblings. And parents. In just a month’s time, our little corner of the neighborhood has complete changed. Every single day now after school there is a pack of kids from four different families playing up and down the street. Riding bikes, shooting hoops, jumping off tree stumps, laughing, having fun, and making friends.
We’ve met more of our neighbors and have actually started a meaningful friendship with one set of neighbors in particular. Our kids go for long walks with one neighbor and her dog with her mom. Her kids come and share dessert with us on Easter. We all go and picnic in another neighbor’s back yard while the kids swing on the tire swing.
Every day our street is filled with laughter and so many bikes. The minimal traffic that comes through now moves at a much slower pace. The kids know at least three dogs from not our street by name. It’s been amazing.
And then it happened.
I had been bracing for it since day one, but it didn’t prepare me for how it’d make me feel. Before you freak, no, the cops were not involved. A neighbor near the end of the street drove her truck the fifty feet to my house, made my kid come inside and retrieve me, and scolded me from the comfort of her Dodge Ram. “I just wanted to let you know your kids are outside.”
“Okay…?”
“They were playing in the street.”
“Okay…? They all love riding their bikes.”
“I know you’re new to the neighborhood, but traffic does come pretty fast through here.”
“Okay, thanks.”
I could tell she was upset that I wasn’t taking the bate. Then she drove ten more feet and to the other side of the street and made my neighbor’s kid go and get her mom. She did this with each parent and likely said the exact same thing and, from her reaction, I assume got the same sort of answers. The fact that she new exactly which houses to go to and exactly which kids belonged to each house tells me that she’s been watching them…and that doesn’t bother me. The more eyes on this troop of kids the better. No, what bothers me is that she has been watching them and decided that, despite several actual parents being involved, decided she still knew better.
And thus ruined our magically perfect community. Did we make the kids come back in when she left? No. Did we tell them to stop playing the way they enjoy playing? No. But now we know that she’s just down the street. Watching. Waiting. Waiting for one slip up. Will she come back to our house to talk to us next time? Or will she call the cops? What are the cops going to say?
The only solace I have at this point is that she is just one person and we are four families (and growing) allowing our children to play.
Hopefully there is safety in numbers.
The Terrible Housewife 