Unstructured Time

Related Content

• Grade Schoolers
• Toddlers & Preschoolers

In Praise of Doing Nothing

By Dorothy Nixon

On every one of my two children's birthdays, I have tried to make the day special in some way. That's 7 plus 9, a total of 16 birthdays over the years. I know for a fact that there exist many books written on just that subject: birthday themes. And there are so many trendy places and fast-food restaurants to bring your kids for parties that cater to such events.

Like so many parents in this consumer culture, I've spent a great deal of money trying to make my children happy on their special day. (Never mind that I had but ONE big birthday party my whole childhood.)

I am not certain if I succeeded. When exhausted and wired on cake and pop, kids seldom express gratitude for all the effort a parent has put into making them happy.

These days, going to arcades and movies are big with my sons' friends. Laser tag places are big with my 9- year-old's peers, and fantasy playgrounds are popular, too. You name it, they want to do it. And then, after the special event, comes pizza or hamburgers. It's expected. Everyone does it. At least, that's what my consumer-conscious, middle-class children say.

Well, this year my son turned 10, but I wasn't feeling inclined to "produce" a birthday party.

"No party this year," I said.

"But I have to have a birthday party, " he whimpered. "It's my right!" (Or something to the effect.)

"O.K." I gave in, "but nothing special. Just have a few friends over and maybe you can rent a movie and order some pizza."

The day of his birthday I was busy. I had some ads to write. My husband, having taken but a few days off work the past month, was bone tired. My son's birthday did happen, but it happened for the most part without us. We were there. We brought the pizza and we presented the cake. That's all. What terrible nineties parents we were that day! And guess what? All the kids had a great time! In truth, except for the presents, the party was no different from many other days when my son's friends come over, but they all admitted they had a great time. Doing nothing special. Just being boys.

Today, for many reasons, kids in the middle class don't seem to have a whole lot of unstructured time. I've heard parents complain that their kids have no time for homework, because of all their after school activities. And even when they do have unstructured time, our kids invariably complain "I have nothing to do!" or they automatically reach for the TV remote control.

Do you recall when childhood used to mean "unstructured time?" Creating worlds out of nothing was the child's domain. At least that's how the story goes. Today, many parents barely give their children a minute to breathe, and then they wonder why these kids can't cope when they "have nothing to do."

I think I know why this is.

One Sunday afternoon in August, after a busy, busy weekend filled with driving to this, and driving to that, my sons asked, "Can we rent a Nintendo? We're bored." It was a glorious sunny afternoon.

"We've been going crazy all weekend, " I replied. "Why can't you just be happy doing nothing?" And then I got snide. "You can help me with this weeding." When they still griped, I got preachy. "What do you think boys did to amuse themselves before Nintendo?"

My sons skulked away. Five minutes later I heard a "Hey, Mom, look at us" and gazed up to see my sons high, high, way up in the sky, planted in the crook of the old oak tree....

What did boys do before Nintendo to amuse themselves? They climbed trees, of course! And climbing trees, although as natural an act as exists for young boys, is dangerous. I had to laugh at myself. Seeing the sum total of my stake in the gene pool hanging simian-like from a tall oak tree suddenly made a blood-splattering game of Ninetendo seem like a safe activity for them. I wanted to coax them down out of that tree that very minute, shouting. BE CAREFUL!!! But I didn't. I resisted. Because, I understood, at that moment, that the world has always been a dangerous place, and that a mother can't protect her children every moment from every danger.

One day she will have to let them go. My kids felt very happy up in that tree. They had confidence in their ability to protect themselves. They had confidence in their own strong limbs.

So many Moms I know, in my quiet peaceful suburb are AFRAID of letting their children out of their sight. It just takes one rumour, one news report of an attempted abduction in a suburb miles away, and everyone is in a heightened state of anxiety.

Unstructured time-- maybe it exists for this very reason: to permit kids to gain confidence in their own protective devices, (away from overprotective MOMS). And perhaps, just perhaps, by structuring our children's time so much, or by trying to keep them out of harm's way in a world we feel, rightly or wrongly, to be a very dangerous place, we're dooming them to be very insecure adults.