Just One of the Kids

The playground is a curious place. I think once you hit a certain age you lose the gene you had as a child that helped negotiate its bars and invisible lines. My son's school has a large, blacktop playground. There are two play structures sitting in bark mulch pits guarding the entrance to the annex. The playground also has a small half basketball court, a kickball diamond and a large open area with remnants of painted maps and grids. To the kids it represents freedom from their 6 hour confinement in the classroom. For me, it's hard to see past its vast flatness; the hard, cracked, leg bruising, knee skinning concrete that it really is.

There are gangs of mothers hanging out on various corners of the concrete catching up on what the principle is doing and who has lost a tooth. Every 10 minutes or so they look across the sea of children to find their own and then back to the playground chatter. There are always a few dad's, grandparents and other caregivers that have fearlessly detangled themselves from the parking anarchy and triumphantly staked their claim on a square of the sacred ground.

My daughter and I often pick up my 5 year old son from school. On nice days, temperaments permitting, we engage in all that this extra hour or so on the school yard has to offer. I never see my son soo excited than I do when he is cruising the flat top scoping out the nearest contact sport. It doesn't matter if it is with his own amigos or with kids that are twice his age, he just wants some action, someone to push and pull on. Most times there is a kickball game going with kids in his class with and a male teacher who keeps the game going by diverting crisis',(like when there are 3 kids on first base and no one wants to move). He makes sure they all have a turn being up, in the field and pitching.

I don't join any of the bands of moms/caretakers. I am chasing my daughter around. She really lights up when she around a large group of children in a wide open space. She just wants to run around and take it all in. I pass by people I know and wave hello. They all know by now that I wont stand in their posse because I will be pulled away mid-conversation to find where she's gone or what game she has walked on to. There are times when a mom will join me as I walk and keep my eye on GiGi. They've seen our dance and join in, asking how she is doing health wise.

There is one little girl who is intrigued with her. She chases her and tries to get a look at her face. She is curious who this girl is running around alone while all of the other girls are chasing boys or sharing their lists of friends with each other. My daughter doesn't stop for this little investigator, she keeps on running. One day I told the girl that her name was GiGi. It appeared to satiate her curiosity. More commonly I see children staring at her or asking me what is wrong with her. I tell them that she likes to run around and listen to all of the kids playing and that she is Taki's BIG sister.

My favorite times on the playground are when I stand back and watch her blend into the crowd. She disappears and is one of them, just a kid in a playground trying to be free. Free from her long day at school, free from me; free from being controlled. She makes me see the playground as something new. I begin to see it as another world, far away from anything else in her reality.
After all she is a kid. A playground loving, freedom hungry kid.