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

Anti-system connections

In stepping back to analyse recent events in our lives, sometimes strangely fluid — if not entirely lucid — patterns start to show themselves. I don’t know if there’s been a subconscious pull towards certain reading matter as of late, or if other mystic forces are at play (no, I don’t believe in deities), but a majority of what I’ve picked up and read lately seems to be blaring and reflecting back at me my recent concerns of ‘playworker as anti-system’. I’ll explain in due course. Perhaps it’s all a form of ‘confirmation bias’ kicking in: this idea that plenty of what I’m reading at the moment is holding up a placard emblazoned with ‘See? You’re right.’ Or, at least, current reading material feeds neatly and accidentally into the conversation.

The basic concern has been going something like this: given that, for playworkers (true playworkers, whatever they might be), advocacy for children’s right to play is right up there in the echelons of highest regard, is it actually as straightforward as this? That is, really, aren’t those tub-thumping, breast-beating, right-on, never-lie-down playworkers actually fighting for play and for children more because they, the playworkers, are anti-system? Children are fundamentally anti-system, aren’t they? (Or, in their natural state, before the onslaught of the whole system we live in has weighed them down and into subservience and submission, they are). Aren’t playworkers then just fighting with kindred spirits against a common enemy? Are playworkers more about the fight, the cause, than they are about the rights of the community of recalcitrants?

Children are recalcitrants, as are playworkers. They kick against the system. Even so, I’m troubled further still in the thinking because it’s one thing mixing things up a bit and quite another being a heretic. Sure, plenty of playworkers have to ‘play the game’, or approximations of it, to get things done, but deep down in those playworkers I suspect that there’s some inner being racking up all the hard-won points against ‘the system’, even in those who wear the ‘normalest’ masks to play that game. This is a moment at the end of a paragraph for any playwork readers here to pause and reflect and be honest with themselves, to test out what I’m saying . . .

In my recent reading (which has been fairly spread and, as far as I’m consciously aware, not seeking out material to support the anti-system thinking), I was perusing posts I’ve missed from the various pages of Arthur Battram’s blog and found this, by chance: Thinking in Systems, in which he highlights the writing of Donella H. Meadows via the Creative Systems website (link via link above) . . .

‘So, what is a system? A system is a set of things — people, cells, molecules, or whatever — interconnected in such a way that they produce their own pattern of behaviour over time.

‘A system is an interconnected set of elements that is coherently organised in a way that achieves something. We can’t impose our will on a system . . .’

Though we do try to impose our wills, this definition seems to me to describe ‘the system’ we live in: that is, the countless policies, procedures, rules, protocols, propaganda, bureaucracies and insidious expediency of containment that all serve to suppress and drain us all into submission. Too much, too strong? When we think it out, we know we’re being caged but we often let it slide because, well, we have our wide screen TVs and our broadband and our all-branded products of every other flavour. Couldn’t it all just be worse?

Children are suppressed by the system in all manner of creative and inelegant ways: they rarely have a real say in things that affect them; they’re seen as adults-in-waiting and all that that entails; adults weigh on them in schools, in what passes as their non-school-non-work time, in their play, in how they’re meant to be and act and think and see and do and what they should and shouldn’t say, and . . . it goes on and on. It isn’t any wonder that they push back when they can (if they haven’t been pushed under too longer already). I’ve read similar or linked things in different texts this week (and I don’t know now if it’s a subconscious or a conscious seeking out):

Chance led me to an excellent book by an author I’d not heard of before. Jay Griffiths wrote Kith: the Riddle of the Childscape (2013) and I have every need to write further about her writing at some time in the near future. For now though (difficult though it is to pull out just one good quote), I offer up the following:

‘. . . children loathe puritanism [sic] and they flock to those who bust the fences of convention: they are spellbound by the unrestricted adults . . .’

— Griffiths (2013: 97)

Carol Black writes at her A Thousand Rivers essays site:

‘We [relating to American culture] focus on our children directly and tell them exactly what we want them to know, where in many other societies adults expect children to observe their elders closely and follow their example voluntarily. We control and direct and measure our children’s learning in excruciating detail, where many other societies assume children will learn at their own pace and don’t feel it necessary or appropriate to control their everyday activities and choices. In other words, what we take for granted as a ‘normal’ learning environment is not at all normal to millions of people around the world.

‘. . . the subculture of American institutional schooling . . . makes increasingly rigid demands on very young children and suppresses more and more of their natural energies and inclinations . . . Traits that would be valued in the larger American society — energy, creativity, independence — will get you into trouble in the classroom.’

Children buck against the system because it’s in their nature to. It’s also a reaction on their part, which is well-put by Teacher Tom, again highlighted via Arthur’s blog:

‘I fear [in some American schools, the approach of] make those schools even less free: even more like prisons . . . no-one will think to consider that the children’s behaviour is a natural and predictable response to the cage in which they are forced to spend their days.’

Confirmation bias at play or actual reality, children are anti-system, I believe. For similar reasons, so too are playworkers. I’ve met enough to know that there’s a general disdain (that’s too mild!) for all the countless pointless weight of procedure, propaganda, bureaucracy, containment and, overall, inauthenticity out there. Who or what are playworkers really fighting for?

I came away from a soulless meeting this week, in which I was contained in a room with two other adults and we just went through a mechanic, robotic, charade of interactions, and I walked home feeling plenty weighed upon. I had my head down; I was minding my own business. Then the universe (or whatever mystic forces happened to pop into existence around me at that time) conspired to brighten everything: confirmation bias or not, whatever the case, I passed a woman and a small child of about three years of age. I don’t know this child and can’t think of anywhere that I might have met her. She caught my eye as I passed, and she smiled and waved at me. As I’ve said and written many, many times before, children just seem to ‘get’ certain adults. In such moments, there’s an authenticity very much at play.


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