My Connections to Play

“A little nonsense now and then, is cherished by the wisest men.” Roald Dahl

Growing up a stone's throw away from "Lady Atlantic" is something I will forever be grateful for. As a young child, some of the most fun I had was with sand between my toes, no matter what season it might have been. As a local, my father always knew the bests spots to go for various different activities. In the spring and fall, we would sneak away to the beach, kites in hand, and test out the different ways we could make our butterflies or dragons fly. Kite flying would always turn into races, tag, or some brand new invention of a game that my brother and I would create. As I grew older, I learned where the best parks were. The swings on 5th Ave. in Seaside Park were my favorite place to go at sunset, where I would imagine myself somewhere new and tropical as the sky turned orange over the bay. I had also learned how to read the tides, a skill that is essential when looking for sand crabs, sea glass, or for digging trenches and waterways. My parents brought my siblings and I to the beach every chance they had. We would often carry buckets, shovels, bogey boards, and other random objects. Yet, the freedom of space we were in was all that we really needed. By kindergarten, we knew the rules: stay the lifeguards, check in at the vintage floral umbrella whenever you were tired, and always stay where you can see someone that you know. My parents to this day value our ability to discover things independently. They always stayed close, they offered new information, history lessons, and comfort when we sought it. 

The photo above is of my siblings, and close friends. It was taken at the beach that I lifeguard at for several summers, at one of our frequent family beach bonfires. Only the "children" are in the picture. Through our many years of learning about environment, how to adapt with it, how to respect it, and how to enjoy it, we have picked up the skills that our parents once owned. For me, as a child, I was given freedom to explore. Granted, I found myself frequently afraid to be alone. Yet, I still learned. I continued to feel safe, and with that feeling of safety and security I truly began to enjoy life. The quote under the photo is one that I connects with the photo, yet to an occurrence that almost always happened after the sun fully disappeared. Along with the freedom of exploration and discovery that my parents created for us, they also taught my siblings and me to laugh. This something that still follows my play skills. After the sun set on bonfire nights, the marshmallows came out. And no, we did not make s'mores. Instead, we hosted one of the most ridiculous and competitive "chubby bunny" competitions know to the entire Eastern Seaboard. In case you don't know, chubby bunny is a game where everybody takes turns added one large marshmallow to their mouth, and without eating it says "chubby bunny." The last person to spit the marshmallows out, or become unable to say chubby bunny wins. I'm not sure I've ever laughed as hard as I have during those competitions. 

"Every child is an artist.  The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up." Pablo Picaso

On days that weren't spent on the beach, typically snowy or stormy days, I would find myself alone in my room with a notebook and something to write with. It was always so cathartic to me to turn my imaginative thoughts into something concrete, whether it was a drawing, cartoon, or a story. Story writing was one of my favorite things to do. I don't remember spending much time writing in workbooks, or doing additional homework, something that is so common for so many children today. Rather, I made the choice to pick up my pencil and paper and express myself in whatever way felt best that day. I often fear that this is something that most children don't even consider, as the stress of performance is so great. Children are being pushed to learn how to read and write before they can even calm themselves down after an undesirable experience. For me, reading and writing was the way that I calmed down. It was something that my grandmother shared with me, as she read stories to me when she found I was getting wound up. It wasn't a chore, but a special activity that we did together, that almost always resulting in me feeling happy and calm.