I had enough to eat. I had clothes on my back and shoes on my feet. I had shelter. I even had love in the manner they were able to give it. But, I didn’t really have safety and a person needs safety in order to be able to play. If a person is scared of punishment for any potential action, it is always safer to just withdraw and not do very much.
To a considerable degree, this newsletter is autobiographical. But the history, stories, methods, and results may be applicable to many a child who grows up under enforced isolation.
A background for an isolated child
My mother could not stand unrestrained noise (polka music was alright). She also demanded instant attention and responses. Perhaps this was her inheritance from her childhood where they had seven people living in a 1000-square-foot house with two bedrooms. The boys got the second bedroom. The girls slept in the bathroom. (One of my aunts slept in the bathtub — the habit of which may have saved her life later when her house (a different one) was hit by a tornado.)
In addition to the needs of my mother (my father was quite introverted and did not play an active part of the family), I was/am likely on the autistic spectrum. In particular, my social skills were greatly behind those of others around me. Although I could, and did, learn social skills they have never been innate. The one that hit me hardest in my younger days was that of “social lying”. I remember my mother taking me to a neighbor’s house and telling me “be sure to compliment her on something”. The neighbor had a completed puzzle on a table that she used as a decoration. I saw it and the picture was nice and interesting. I put my finger on it and moved it through the deep layer of dust on the puzzle in order to see the picture better. The neighbor, and my mother, approached and, remembering my mother’s words I said “this is a nice picture but it sure is dusty”. That did not make my mother happy.
One of my most vivid early childhood memories was of the last time I was physically punished. Although my father was not much of an active part of the household, he would do as my mother told him and was used (as a threat and as fulfillment) as the instrument of punishment. My mother uttered that universal fear of a child “wait until your father gets home”. As the belt came down upon my rear end (not truly that hard, my father was not a violent person) I kept yelling “what did I do wrong?” I never found out. I never knew what I was being punished for. And that was the last straw out of which I built my retreat of safety. If I could be punished for no known reason at any time, I needed to disappear as much as possible. My brother took a different route, he was absent from the house as much as possible.
There were positive aspects to this. I burrowed into books. I checked out the maximum allowable number of books from the local library whenever someone was willing to take me (in my birth town, I could walk (the local librarian gave me library card number 4, which she reserved for me until I could apply for a card) to the library). Books included school books. I would read all of my textbooks cover to cover within the first week of school which allowed me to really absorb their contents over the school year. And my mother was willing to permit me to spend time in my room studying, although I still needed to quickly attend to her needs when called.
I also learned not to make known any attachment to anything or anyone, as they were likely to be used as a weapon against me. I received a puppy from my grandmother after I had isolated but before all sense of play was lost. I loved that puppy, played with it, fed it. Then one day it was gone. It may have been “given to a farmer” as I was told. It may have been run over by a car as one of her bad habits was to chase cars. She might have gotten seriously sick and died. I don’t know and, at that time, I already had lost sufficient trust to never believe the farmer story.
I was a serious comic collector, and had accumulated quite a few comics by junior high. One day, my mother decided that I had to get rid of them. The bags were in my closet. They were not in the way of anyone or anything. But they had to go. From the issues that I remember (and I had a lot that I probably don’t remember), my mother forced the removal of hundreds of thousands of dollars of vintage “silver age” comics. Although this story is not unique among collectors within the US public, my mother did it specifically because I spent “too much” time reading comics and “not enough” time attending to her needs.
What is play?
You are probably better qualified than I am to define play. “To occupy oneself in an activity for amusement or recreation” seems pretty flat. Although it does call out why one of the largest problems with the ultra-rich is boredom. At the low-income point, most activity is for survival. Nevertheless, many people in lower income brackets do make time for “amusement or recreation”. An extra clause to some (but not all) definitions of play adds activity “for its own sake”. In other words, there is no “reason”, no “goal”, it’s being done only because the person wants to do such and enjoys it.
Enjoy. Yes, I have allowed a small amount of enjoyment to creep back into my life. Not that you would likely notice by looking at my face or body language. And I do a few things just because I enjoy them. But amused by them? A form of recreation? I’ll do it for others if they ask (but I’m highly unlikely to be the person asking).
“Because it is there” may be a type of goal but it is often just a component of the recreation. It is impossible to climb mountains without a mountain (VR journeys don’t count). And play certainly isn’t universal. I, personally, have no interest in parachuting for “fun” but that doesn’t mean that parachuting is not a valid type of amusement (recreation?) for many people. Amusement is a highly subjective thing. As for the distinction between amusement and recreation, I think that both are put into the definition to ward off arguments. (“That isn’t an amusement, it is recreation:,)
Work and play
What! You enjoy your work? Congratulations! But, even if you find it amusing as well, it just isn’t inherently play because there is a goal (or multiple goals). Would you do it without the pay? Without the observable output? If so, perhaps it might qualify as play in addition to work. But, if it is something that is necessary, does THAT still count? Say that I work for eight hours a day. I have another eight hours (all approximate) to eat, clean the house, move from place to place, brush my teeth and use the restroom. Would there be time, within that second block of eight hours, to earn a living to keep “body and soul” alive? Wouldn’t the eight hours at “work” be disqualified to be considered “play” since it is necessary to continue with the bills and such?
The requirements for play
If a child is to play, they must be able to be spontaneous. There can’t be a careful examination of how others (especially adults) will respond to your actions. Although it is important to recognize the feelings, and needs, of others, it is important to carry through to do what you want in the way you want to do it. (Children must learn to work with the needs and feelings of others. When they never succeed in doing that, it is a sign of the problem of sociopathy.) Perhaps the most important aspect is the recognition of joy within oneself. What is FUN for you to do? I would appreciate any insight you might have about what is play and how to enter into it.
In combination with spontaneous, there can’t be a judge. Errors don’t exist. Everything that doesn’t hurt someone else is okay to do. Play is supposed to be a reservoir filled with opportunities for learning. Learning doesn’t happen without finding out what doesn’t work.
Restoration of a sense of play
I don’t know if that is truly possible. One of my sons continues to try to get me to play. But play means spontaneity. It requires not thinking through everything in advance. It may even mean causing accidents or unforeseen problems. It might hurt other people’s feelings. How does one rewire the brain to reinstill something that was once present but now is fully lost?'
So,….
Play is spontaneous. Play is non-judgemental. Play is from a universal pool of creation. Go have yourself a play date, you lucky person you.
No comments:
Post a Comment