Imagine this: a secret society of young kids meets in the darkness of the night, quietly sneaking off towards their school playground. They keep watch as they go, looking back over their shoulders. They breathe a collective sigh of relief as they continually rediscover the emptiness behind them and all around. A strange thing, to take comfort in nothing.
They press on.
"Let's turn around and go back," one child says.
"No!" whispers another, "we have to do this."
They stop suddenly as they reach their goal -- the playground. Or what's left of it. The winds blow silently through the nearly empty field, no longer whistling through the metal teeth of the monkey bars. The silhouette of the one remaining basketball goal stands backlit by the light of the moon. They can't see, but they know. It has no hoop. Broken, useless, it stands as a monument to the memory of better days.
They step out onto the mulch? No, no, mulch is too dangerous. Grass? Too many germs. How about self-sterilizing padded rubber? It's clean. It's safe. It's guaranteed to guard against rug burns if they fall. Yeah, okay, we'll go with that one.
They step out onto the self-sterilizing padded rubber, swallowing hard.
"Well," they say, "here goes."
Ripping off their plastic protective suits, they run madly into the night, the cool wind slapping their arms and legs. The silence is broken. A strange sound cuts through the black sky -- laughter. What a wonderful sound. They had almost forgotten how wonderful.
But they could get in trouble! They could get hurt! A scratch! A bruise! A cut even, oh God! Someone may even LOSE!
But they don't care. They're reclaiming their childhood. And long into the night, they play the simplest of games.
"Tag!" they shout. "You're 'it'!"
--
Sound like the story of some futuristic, Big Brother, birdcage society? Think again. Despite a few minor exaggerations, this is not far off from where we are headed.
Recently, a Santa Monica elementary school has banned its children from playing the game of tag. Why? Because it has been labeled as dangerous and likely to give some children low self-esteem.
Remember dodge ball? It has suffered the same tragic fate. In fact, there is a whole list of activities in which a child can no longer engage him or herself: all running games (someone may fall over), making daisy chains (the ground is pretty dirty these days), handstands (tragically, a girl fell over somewhere and bruised more than her ego) and yo-yos (hey, come on now, anything could happen).
No doubt, those responsible have generated endless excuses for these blatant attempts at giving birth to a water-logged society. Currently up to bat for the tag-ban team -- Franklin Elementary School Principal Pat Samarge.
"We had some children who were not playing 'it' appropriately," said Samarge. "Little kids were coming in and saying 'I don't like it.' Children weren't feeling good about it."
Well, I'm glad we live in such a feel-good society. We don't want anyone to experience negative emotions or hurt themselves, so we just eliminate the source. What's next, book burning? You can see why I am disturbed by the idea.
As ESPN columnist Jim Caple wrote: "We are one step closer toward raising a generation of paste-devouring Ralph Wiggums. Is this what you want, wussies?"
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