Lessons from the playground

Kids can teach us a lot about ourselves.

My office window overlooks the playground of a neighboring day-care center. Sometimes I like to take a few minutes and just watch the children as they busily go about building sand castles, jumping through tires, playing house, driving a variety of cars and tricycles around a small paved track, and all the other things that pre-schoo1ers do to amuse themselves.

I was especially taken the other day as I observed a boy who seemed to be new to the group. He obviously was looking for some way to be included, and would wander from one group of children to the other, standing on the fringe, yet hoping that someone would invite him to join in the activity.

"I can do that. I'll show you how," he'd boldly assert, but no one seemed to want his help.

Suddenly he spied, lying in the grass, a small "STOP" sign attached to a pole. Excited, he quickly picked it up and ran over to the side of the track. A number of youngsters were riding around the playground, and as each approached, he firmly lowered the stop sign to block their path.

No one stopped.

Kids rode around the sign, under the sign, one even rode over the sign, but nobody really paid any attention to the child holding it. The boy became more and more frustrated at yet another failure at being included. Giving up his passive attempt to control the other children's play, he began to yell "stop!" as each rider approached, but still to no avail. He changed locations, also without effect.

Finally he wound up waving the sign wildly while jumping up and down in the middle of the track. Other than a few quizzical looks, he continued to be ignored by the rest of the children.

Defeated, he lowered the sign and began to walk away. But there, in his path, was an unused tricycle. Hesitantly, the boy climbed on the bike and peddled on to the track. Then a miracle happened - or so it must have seemed to him. He was surrounded by a whole gang of children riding, playing, laughing together. And he found himself riding along, swept up in the fun. He didn't offer to help, or show how, or try to control the game. He simply let himself be included.

I saw a lot of us adults in that small child. Growing up, we didn't know how to fit in, either. So we became doers, fixers, leaders, take charge people. We decided, often unconsciously, that one way to be included is to be in control. We can't be excluded, we reasoned, if people need us to take care of things.

So we become assistants to our parents, playground organizers, student leaders, hard workers, achievers. As adults we set ourselves up as Supermoms or Superdads taking care of everybody, or compulsive over-workers that the company can't do without, or the indispensable volunteer who serves in and often leads a half-dozen charitable organizations. We may even go into one of the helping professions, becoming a nurse, or pastor, or physician, or counselor in order to feel needed and included.

Such a strategy does work for awhile. We are often valued for our energy, our know-how, or leadership skills. Yet even when we feel that others like us around because we do so much, we still don't really feel included. We're never just one of the gang; we feel uncomfortable when it's time to just relax with our friends, and nobody seems to be willing to take care of us the way we take care of everybody else. Despite all our efforts, we still wind up feeling excluded, and we eventually feel unappreciated to boot.

Back to the playground. Granted the world needs doers, fixers and leaders. Ultimately, though, those are roles that set people apart. To be included requires that we give up trying to take care of everyone else all the time, give up always being the take-charge type, and just join in. We have to put down the stop sign, grab the tricycle and ride along, just as our preschooler did.

Sure, it's not easy. It's even a bit risky, just being one of the crowd. But the expression on that little boy's face keeps coming back to me. It sure looked fun. Let's try it.

The Rev. Ken Potts is a pastoral counselor and marriage and family therapist with Samaritan Interfaith Counseling Centers, Naperville and Downers Grove. His book, "Take One A Day," can be ordered at local bookstores or online.