Even preschoolers can get overscheduled, but West Seattle center sets them free
All under the age of 4, they are self-starting, industrious and imaginative workers. But the worth in what they do, which sometimes involves stacking blocks or just sitting in the rain, has lost its value in a goal-oriented, schedule-driven world.
Their occupation is play. But in today's galloping pace of family life, parents, psychologists and other child advocates have become concerned that the unstructured free time that inspires play has been whacked down to fit into the regular grid of appointments.
At The Community Playschool in West Seattle, Madison, Ryan and Mike get to do their jobs unfettered, for the most part, by adults suggesting what toys to play with, what activities to pursue and what time their snacks are to be eaten. Yes, this is a school of sorts, and founders Jason and Sarah Airhart are well aware the two-and-a-half hours a day these kids are allowed to play conforms to an adult schedule.
But the idea of unstructured, kid-initiated play as a critical part of development is misunderstood at best, or simply not taken seriously, the Airharts say. And the school offers kids the autonomy to do what they're meant to be doing.
"Children play for a reason: because that's what they're supposed to be doing," said Sarah Airhart, who has worked in early-childhood education programs for 13 years. "That is their purpose in life at this stage. And it's taken away from them. In preschool they have music time, they play for an hour and then they have snack time. Even our play time is scheduled into an adult schedule.
"I think, perhaps, a piece of true play, that spirit, is gone."
More means less
Psychologists and others studying child development point to a number of factors underlying this change. With single-parent and dual-working-parent households, finding child care and enrichment for their children comes in the form of programs, lessons and scheduled recreation. Despite the economic downturn, they note this country's overall wealth and they say parents feel obligated to do it all and give it all to their children.
Add to those pressures the stress of the high-stakes, mandatory testing that has swept the country and unstructured play gets short shrift. Nationwide, a number of school districts have cut back or even eliminated recess to make room for more instruction time.
A 1998 study conducted by the University of Michigan's Institute for Social Research offered a glimpse of the dwindling amount of free time children have. On an average weekday, they spent nearly 20 percent less time eating than they did in 1981, and their free time — the time spent outside of eating, sleeping, personal grooming and attending school, preschool or day care — fell from 40 percent to 25 percent of a child's day.
"Play is a way for children to learn about themselves and interact with the world," says Dr. Janice Cohn, a psychotherapist and author from Montclair, N.J. "Now most kids are interacting with a TV or a computer. These days kids don't have time to dream and daydream and know who they are."
Kids take the lead
At The Community Playschool, which serves up to 12 children a day, parents talk about listening to their children's cues and signals. It's a place where children mostly between the ages of 2 and 6 make most of the decisions.
The school is not a drop-in center. Many of the parents stay and help watch the children. Others leave and run errands, but only if their child approves.
Tuition is $80 a month for one day a week, $150 a month for two days a week and $210 a month for three days a week. Parents who stay and watch, and most do, get a $20 discount. Airhart offers other discounts and scholarships based on a family's finances.
Paying for ready-made playmates and a community of parents may seem strange for some, Airhart says. But in some areas, neighbors are isolated from each other. Parents aren't always guaranteed a regular playground crowd, and they don't feel safe letting their kids roam freely and play. This school evolved out of Airhart's "Messy Play Day" sessions — a scaled-down version of what the school offers — at the Delridge Community Center. Parents clamored for more, Airhart says.
The basic equipment isn't high-tech or expensive. Airhart opens a cupboard in the snack room to reveal boxes of macaroni and fluorescent-green slime (better known as Gak). Construction paper, crayons and a basket of driftwood, shells and rocks weigh down shelves in the art room.
String and masking tape are two items constantly in need of restocking, Airhart notes.
Psychologists vary on how much unstructured play time is necessary. Some say the usual one hour allotted at child-care centers is enough. But for pretend play — the transformation of the here and now into something else — the more uninterrupted time available, the better.
"When we start scheduling all their time, they're missing the ability to explore new thoughts," says Angeline Lillard, an associate professor in the University of Virginia's psychology department.
Out of the rat race
Many of the moms who bring their children to The Community Playschool work part time or at home. Some have shifted gears from a rigid, corporate schedule to a more open-ended, unplanned lifestyle. Some structure in their children's lives is necessary, parents say, and there's nothing wrong with music lessons or language classes. But for them, society has tipped the balance, emphasizing a rigid scheduling of life.
Kristen Okabayashi has been bringing her two sons, Ryan, 4, and Alex, 20 months, to the school for about a year. Before becoming a full-time mom, Okabayashi worked as the district manager for a retail company and then the director of a child-care center. Without her $50,000-a-year salary, finances are stretched on her husband's income, but Okabayashi says she was lucky to have the option to stay at home.
"For some people, staying at home is not an option," Okabayashi says. "But when both parents work, there's less time for play. You're getting home, you're doing laundry, you're moving everyone along. It's not a judgment, you just have less time for (play)."
Nicole Harrison, 31, a fiction writer who lives in Seattle, admits to having urges to give her 3-year-old daughter Madison everything she didn't have when she was growing up — piano and Latin lessons. But these days, what feels right is listening to her child. And right now, Madison has decided to play in the rain.
"Play is seen as wasting your time," Harrison says. "It's not seen as useful or advantageous in any way. But we've forgotten that what we want are people who are free, free-thinking, happy and have a good life. Most intellectual endeavor is a mental play."
Ask the kids to expound upon their work and they'll likely smile and drop a hand over a random collection of wet plastic baubles scooped from the sensory table.
What's the point? They apparently haven't a care, and some internal clock has told them that it's now time to grab a pile of scarves and dance.
Keiko Morris can be reached at 206- 464-3214 or kmorris@seattletimes.com