Dying playgrounds

THERE’S A playground I always pass on the way to work. It’s right beside a small village, and is surrounded by trees and a fence on three sides, as if it were meant to keep children out rather than invite them in. It doesn’t stand out in any way—just a typical, standard-issue playground with a slide, seesaw, three swings that cling to rusty chains, and monkey bars.

The place always seems to be deserted: a playground with no players. A nearby basketball court hums with idle chatter and balls slapping against concrete, but the playground is silent. It doesn’t matter what time or day of the week it is. It is almost always empty, and seems to have fallen into disuse.

The grass around it is now ankle-high, as if nature were trying to reclaim the area. The slide must have been painted red once upon a time, but now clearly isn’t. Swinging on the monkey bars may peel off flakes of paint, while the seesaw will probably protest loudly the moment anyone tries to use it.

There were only a few times when I saw people in that playground. On one occasion, there was a mother on a swing, intently texting on her cell phone while her child walked aimlessly about. At another, all three swings were occupied by children—two girls and a boy. But none of the swings moved against the wind; the children merely used them as chairs. The girl in the middle appeared to be playing a game on her tablet, and the eyes of the other two kids were transfixed on the gadget.

Life has moved only in the same direction, like a one-dimensional boxer, or one going for a knockout late in a fight: forward. But technological advances and the Internet have quickened its pace and changed the way we live. Information is instant. Gadgets have become smaller, attention spans shorter. Meals have to be documented on Instagram. And, of course, relationships have to be “Facebook-official.”

Children’s lives have also been affected by gadgets such as laptops, cell phones and tablets. TV and video games were available to them before, but the Web and gadgets have given them a host of other things to do without leaving home. They can play more games, watch videos, and interact with other people through their gadgets. With all these, the appeal of the playground is dying, if not altogether lost.

It’s said that staying home instead of being in playgrounds keeps children relatively safe. Parents won’t have to worry about their children suffering bumps and bruises, or (those scenarios in detergent commercials!) stepping into mud puddles that leave Texas-sized stains on their clothes. (Why these kids’ clothes are always white or light-colored, I’ll never know.) Using gadgets, surfing the Internet, watching TV, or playing video games all carry far less risk compared to running, jumping and horsing around with other children in playgrounds.

But this sedentary lifestyle also means less physical activity for children, which, combined with an unhealthy diet, can cause weight gain, even obesity and its attendant diseases and health problems. Childhood obesity is already a serious health problem in the United States. Unfortunately, it is also becoming a prominent health issue here.

This is where the significance of playgrounds comes in. The strenuous physical activities a playground offers are important for children; they burn more sugar and calories than tapping on gadgets or mashing the buttons of a controller.

In his column “The Science of a Playground” in Sports Digest last April, Reil Vinard Espino writes that the more difficult playground equipment such as slides, monkey bars and swings motivate children to improve their motor skills. Running from one playground ride to another, he adds, improves a child’s cardiovascular health.

Now, I’m not exactly a paragon of physical fitness myself. But aside from the physical aspect, playgrounds offer an equally important benefit to children: interaction with their peers. The way kids form friendships is amazing. One moment they vow not to talk to each other, their friendship is over, period, and the next moment they’re laughing, sharing chichiria, or running in the same direction, trying to escape the “it” in a game they’re playing.

The truth is, I’ve lost contact with most of the children I’ve played with in playgrounds. Some I interacted with only once or twice, some I was friends with for a while, before we lost contact. And still others I’m friends with to this day. But more than their names and faces, what I remember are the lessons I learned when I played games with them 10, 15 years ago.

I learned how to handle defeat. I learned that no matter how many times I lose, there will always be a new round, a new game, with different players and another chance to win. I learned that if I kept joining, if I kept playing, I’ll eventually win.

I learned about the importance of patience, especially when a line of equally eager children forms next to the slide or one of the swings. I learned that no matter how long I wait, I’ll eventually have my turn.

I learned that I shouldn’t take games too seriously. I learned that no matter how heated an argument or game, it will always come to a premature end when the next episode of “Slam Dunk,” “Dragon Ball Z,” or “Ghost Fighter” is shown on TV, or when someone’s mother calls him to come home this instant, or else.

For some parents, playgrounds mean risk. But risk also means a chance for children to learn and know more about themselves. They won’t always be the one being pushed on the swing; sometimes, they’ll have to do the pushing. The steps climbing up the slide are difficult, but the reward comes at the top if they persevere. The slide down will last for only a few seconds, but they’ll have a chance to do it again as long as they’re willing to climb back up. They’ll need to pull their own weight when it comes to the monkey bars, and a slow and steady pace, one bar at a time, will do the trick instead of trying to skip two or three bars at a time.

The Internet and electronic gadgets will be available to children later in their lives, whether as educational, professional, or recreational tools. But the playground, and their childhood, won’t be. The day will come when they’ll go to the playground in their community to find that it isn’t there anymore, or that they’ve outgrown it. Before that day comes, children should run, jump, and interact with other kids in playgrounds, because these are not mere places where they are allowed to play. Playgrounds also teach children enduring lessons.

Immanuel L. Canicosa, 22, is a writing consultant at ClientCom Inc. and a sportswriter for GoArchers.com. He is also an aspiring filmmaker and was a writer and assistant director of the short film “Pukpok” (Best Student Short Film at the 38th Metro Manila Film Festival, and finalist at the 38th Gawad Urian Awards and 9th Cinemalaya Film Festival).