"Playing is Good for Children" says the New York Times UPDATED

Well, that's a relief.

Also ... "Studies Show Water is Wet," and "Scientists Agree: Puppies are Cuddly."

I don't know whether to be pleased or mystified by "Effort to Restore Children’s Play Gains Momentum," a story in the Home & Garden section of the New York Times. Like so much from the Times, it reads like a dispatch written by and about alien life-forms. In this case, people have recently discovered that these strange small beings known as HU-MAN CHIL-DREN enjoy peculiar rituals called "PRETENDING" and "PLAYING," and that these rituals may now be safely classified as "GOOD" due to the opinions of Designated Experts.

What kind of Type-A, OCD, careerist, whack-job parents do Times writers generally associate with that they think a mom who lets the kids play in the house--even if it gets a little bit messy!--is somehow news? They even manage to find some chin-tugging expert to say, “Play is just a natural thing that animals do and humans do, but somehow we’ve driven it out of kids.”

Speak for yourself, lady. I teach kids, I volunteer with kids, and I live with kids, and I have never encountered one who has had the play "driven out" of him. I do the "play" thing professionally, and kids know how to play just fine.

I'm not always sure that parents know how to parent, however. If the story were merely a lament about the over-scheduling of the average American child, then I'd agree, but that hardly means that children have "forgotten" how to play. They merely have parents who think a child's every waking moment must be filled with some kind of self-improving busywork. I heard one parent justify this kind of intense parenting by saying "If we don't have our kids keep up, then the Chinese will beat us." I'm not sure what exactly they think the Chinese are going to beat us at. Long division? State capitols? Ping-pong?

My family is hardly typical--my wife and I both work at home and our kids don't do sports--but I know plenty of "typical" families, and none of the kids have what one "expert" actually calls a "play deficit."

The Times story ends with excerpts from a 75-page instruction manual on how to play, including such gems as these:

“Climb on the couch with your friends and pretend you are sailing on a ship to a distant land,” reads one idea. Another, from the section on construction play: “Lay a toy on the floor and figure out how to build a bridge going over the toy with blocks.”

“Make paper doll cutouts from old newspapers and magazines,” a third suggests, “and let your imagination fly!”

I don't mean to sound judgmental (wait a second: yes I do), but if your kids need instructions like these, then you have royally screwed up the whole parenting thing, and almost certainly screwed up your kids.

We play a lot here at Casa McD: certainly more than the average household. Part of that has to do with the constant flow of games coming into the house for my job, but part of it also has to do with the rules we laid down. TV watching and screen-based games are limited to a few hours spread over Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, and sometimes on days with heavy weather. That's always been the rule, so the kids have learned how to play on their own. I've had parents marvel at this. How do you do it? My kids would never stand for it! they say.

I never understood this response. You're the parent! You make the rules. You shape your child's world through the decisions you make. And if your child doesn't know how to play because he's staring into a screen all the time, or because she's bouncing from ballet to soccer to Mandarin lessons to yoga, then you made the wrong choices somewhere along the line.

Take away the DS, turn off the computer, cancel the stupid lessons, quit the team, and dump a pile of Lego in the middle of a table, get a stack of paper and a new box of Crayolas, or break out a board game. If you want to give your kids the best, then give them time to just be kids.

UPDATE: Some people wanted to know if I'd read this story about Chinese parenting. Yes I had, and if it's accurate, then it's a rather chilling portrait of a nation of psychopaths. I find the entire drive to "get ahead" at any cost utterly nauseating, whether it's from Eastern or Western parents. What are we trying to get ahead of? Why must professional, academic, or even personal achievement (more correctly, over-achievement) be the defining measure of a life, rather than love or joy? Perhaps certain children are happy being driven to misery so they can play a nice little piano piece and make mamma proud at the recital, but I'd say those children are definitely in the minority.

I'm not saying that kids don't need to be pushed and made to understand that hard work is needed to master anything, but the "Chinese mother" techniques described in the story cross the line into brutality. I agree that rote memorization and drilling is a huge benefit to kids, and I spend summer break tutoring my kids in Latin, history, literature, math and other subjects in order to keep their minds sharp and extend their range of learning. Every parent has to push their kids to learn math, study science, and practice instruments, but the vast majority manage to do so without turning it into some kind of cruel psychodrama.

Perhaps this drive to create "superchildren" is a byproduct of China's monstrous single-child policy, with incredible pressure brought to bear on that one child to fulfill all his or her parents' dreams and expectations. In any case, I'll put American independence, empathy, high spirits, freedom, and inventiveness against obsessive Chinese parenting any day of the week, and twice on Sunday.

Colonial Gaming: "I catch you without green!"

During my research on Colonial gaming, I came across a bizarre item that I had to share.

In the late-19th century, folklorists discovered an unusual children’s game that was found in certain areas of North and South Carolina, and nowhere else.

William Wells Newell describes the game in Games and Songs of American Children (1888):

In parts of Georgia and South Carolina, as soon as a group of girls are fairly out of the house for a morning's play, one suddenly points the finger at a companion with the exclamation, “Green!” The child so accosted must then produce some fragment of verdure--the leaf of a tree, a blade of grass, etc.--from the apparel or else pay forfeit … It is rarely, therefore, that a child will go abroad without a bit of ‘green,’ the practice almost amounting to a superstition. The object of each is to make the rest believe that the required piece of verdure has been forgotten, and yet to keep it at hand.

When researchers dug a little deeper, they realized that they were seeing a version of a game that was unique to France, and popular from the 13th to 14th centuries. (It was even mentioned by Rabelais.)

Newell describes the original French game as one played by adults during Lent, after the singing of the Angelus. It went like this:

If any lady accost you and shows you her bough, you must immediately exhibit yours. If you have not such a one, or if your green is of a shade less rich than your adversary's, you lose a point; in case of doubt, the matter is referred to an umpire.

The phrase said to the loser gave the game its name: “I catch you without green!” (“Je vous prends sans vert”).

The punishment for losing was to have a pail of water dumped over your head, or else a pay fine. (Money from the fines was supposedly deposited in a fund to provide a “merry repast” for the village.)

How did a medieval French game survive only in scattering of counties in the Carolinas from the Colonial period to at least the late 20th century?

Simple: some Huguenot families left France and settled in that region of America during the 18th century. The custom had survived in their region of France, and crossed the pond to take root in the New World. American culture and language are full of things that survived here after they faded away in their country of origin.

Parents Who Love Their Kids Don't Give Them Hannah Montana Playing Cards

I'm just sayin'.

Look, I have more than a few "novelty decks" in my collection: Elvis, Looney Tunes, Barbie Classic and Kicky Outfits (what the!?... how did that get in there?), Texas Chainsaw Massacre (yes, really; and don't ask what's on the Queen), more Elvis (there is no such thing as too much Elvis ... except in playing card form), Iraqi fugitives, World War II plane spotters and the like.

They all have two things in common:

1. I didn't buy them and 
2. I DON'T USE THEM.

I keep them on a shelf in my library, like little trophies. When someone asks if they can use one for a game, I usually just say, "Oh no, that would ruin the resale value!"

The picture at the top of this post is what a Jack of Spades looks like. We'll talk more about playing card aesthetics in time. (Yeah, I said "playing card aesthetics." Anything that's a) designed, b) produced, and c) has a 600 year history is going to have an aesthetic aspect.) For now, let's just take it as read that this is what a Jack of Spades looks like, and what he should always look like. Each time someone lays out a Royal Flush, everyone shouldn't have to pause to figure out that Elvis 68 Comeback Special in Black Leather is the King, while Cilla is the Queen, and Elvis doing "Clambake" is the Jack.

Look, 9-year-old-girls have enough trouble telling between a small blind and a big blind or when to peg a crib. Don't make them have to learn that Hannah's "come hither" look is a Queen of Hearts ("'cause she's so cute she's the Queen of all our hearts!") , while Hannah singin' & spunky is a King of Clubs. (I'm just angry that I have to type the word "spunky" at all. As Lou Grant said: I hate spunk.)

As for the novelty cards people give kids to get them "into" cards: just don't. Give them their own deck of real cards and teach them what they should look like. They'll like the fact that they're playing with the same kind of deck Dad and his friends use on Friday night, while appreciating that they don't stink of stale beer, cigar smoke, and desperation.

They'll also learn how real cards should look and feel. Yes, many of the novelty decks are made by the US Playing Card Company (the finest manufacturer of playing cards in the world) to their usual high standards. Everyone else is making a buck from Hannah Montana swag, so they might as well get their piece. But that doesn't mean you have to buy them. Walmart sells a two-deck pack of Bicycle Rider Backs (one red, one blue) for $1.97. For a pittance you can place an actual slice of the adult world--one that is instantly recognized the world over, and can be used in hundreds of different ways--in your child's hands. Why pay a premium price for a card where most of the cost is for the product license? (As I mentioned in my entry on American-style games, a company will slap on a brand on anything they can.)

A deck of Rider Backs is one of the most ubiquitous pieces of pop art of our time: instantly recognizable and know the world over. A deck of Naruto-themed playing cards is an abomination.

PS: What the heck is on those Hannah Montana cards anyway? Pillows? Doilies? A two of spades on a DOILY? Are you KIDDING me?!