plā′wėrk′ings, n. Portions of play matters consideration; draft formations.

‘Playwork’, I think (this week, at least, and returning in part to previous writings) is not a job, as such: it’s a way of thinking, a way of being. I would say it’s a ‘mindset’ but, just as the term ‘play setting’ continues to seem to me to be something rather akin to ‘somewhere in the process of becoming concrete’, a ‘mindset’ probably isn’t the right word: playwork is mindfulness, mindedness. It is an approach to seeing/perceiving children and play. Within the seeing comes the visibility shone on the seer by the child: this adult gets it; within the seeing comes the possibility of being brought into the play, or comes the insult without any huge consequence, or comes the possibility of confidence (as in ‘to be confided in’), etc.

I write this because I’m aware there are those who don’t call themselves ‘playworkers’ but who show, sometimes, a mindedness towards play in their actions; equally, there are those who do call themselves ‘playworkers’ but who really, at that time, have less focus on the children and play than they have on other things (say, any given adult agenda). Within the field of those who call themselves playworkers, we’re never going to come to a consensus on exactly how to work: there will always be different ‘flavours’ of playwork-minded people, which is fine, because it takes all sorts. However, there are confusions bound up in all of this: of which, I shall address a few a little later.

We can only truly embrace the flavours (to continue the metaphor) of those we think of as playwork-minded, perhaps, in those we see to be on parallel tracks to our own: if we think of ourselves as anything, then perhaps we can only compare others to our own flavour. Close enough is good enough; too far away isn’t the ‘real deal’. Of course, we may be wrong about ourselves in the first place, but we can always re-model our thinking to take in what we newly learn.

I see playwork-mindedness in others who children take to easily; or in those who children seem to test out with actual- or mock-insults or interrogations, which the playwork-minded accept with humour and good grace. In fact, it’s this grace that I perceive in others who, through their reflection-in-action (through what they do and how they do it, which highlights in some way how they think of the children at play), that I think I value most. I have known and worked with some people who have had astounding grace. If I think I’ve done well, one day, any day, I may have been perceived as with grace; at other times, I aspire to it.

Playwork-mindedness isn’t just the above though: I see it in those, on a good day, in a good minute, to whom children show in various ways that they’re seen and approved, accepted (even, or especially, just after that adult has lost their composure for a short while). I see playwork-mindedness in looks in the eye, without words; I see it in words and banter developed between the child and the adult; I see it in the ways that some children will say some things only to some adults. There is trust.

This is all written so far in terms of child-adult relating, but I see playwork-mindedness also in the ways that some adults will talk or write to one another; I see it in the ways that an adult will go out of their way, disrupting the usual patterns of their day, to provide for, to resource for, the play; I see it in the small and large building or preparations for play, and I see it in the ways that adults of this mindedness will step around the play, not through it, without a word.

Playwork-mindedness, as I see it, isn’t the exclusive preserve of the adventure playground. I met someone recently who indicated that he thought I thought this way. I was at an after school club. ‘Playwork is a mindset’, I told him of my opinion, based on my experience (though my thinking, as I write it now, has become a little more refined since then). Playwork-mindedness can happen in other places where children come to play, it can happen on the street, it can happen at home.

Playwork-mindedness is all of the above, as I see it, and plenty more. However, there are confusions bound up in what I perceive to lie outside the range of playwork-minded flavours though (we can only compare with what we know to create our range). Overt-developmentalism, soft- or hard-educationist agendas, play in terms of social control or future-proofing have all found their way into some who call themselves playworkers and their strands of playwork. These are no strands my experience tells me as being ‘playwork-minded’.

We haven’t even touched on the difficulty of ‘ego’ yet either. This is a bit of a misnomer though, really: that is, we use this ‘ego’ word in our increasingly soundbite-afflicted modern culture (and I’m guilty of perpetuating that here now too), but we tend to use it in terms of ‘the inflation of who we are’, ‘increasing our own stock’, or ‘over-selling ourselves’. Actually, in Freudian terms (as I understand it), the ‘ego’ is a ‘mask’ we wear. Actually, actually, in Buddhist terms (also as I understand it), we must first accept that there is no ego.

‘Those-who-would-be-playworkers’ may well have a propensity towards increasing their own stock, above the drive to serve the children. The playwork-minded will have no concern for ego (or, let’s be fair, little concern — because absolute perfection is unattainable and enlightenment is then a fair way off for most of us). Service is, I suggest, essential. Without any degree of service (not ‘servitude’, ‘slavery’), we treat children as lower than ourselves.

When I’m ‘playworking’, on a good day, in a good moment, I consider myself mindful and minded of the play. The ‘I’ is problematic, in terms of the ‘ego’ (which may or may not exist), so this minded person has the approach of service: he may interact with perceived grace; he may smile at an insult, or a kick to the shin, or any other provocation; he may be asked into the play. Certainly, at that moment, in that conversation, or with that look in the eye, he’ll share that moment as one of ‘mutual gettingness’. He may be confided in, and he’ll know who can and can’t be told things and why. He may be ignored but he’ll not take it to heart and he’ll walk around the play (whether that play’s on the playground, or in any other place where play can be: on school premises, in the street, at home, and so on). When the playwork-minded is ‘playworking’ he or she will see the reflection-in-action of others of similar flavours. The mindful-minded will smile, because they’ll know . . . and, of knowing, so too will the children, quietly.
 
 

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