Locked Out by the Playground Patrol: The Reasons Families Are Leaving NYC
“Play is the work of the child,” said Maria Montessori, challenging the adults who often dismiss a child’s unending pursuit of movement and curiosity. “It is work he must do in order to grow up.”
Try telling that to the city of New York.
A few weeks back, we were blessed with an unusually warm spring-like Sunday during a cold February. After attending Mass, my son — a restless and energetic 2½-year-old — along with my husband and friends, headed to the Pier 26 playground by the Hudson River so Zev could burn off some energy after managing to stay still in church.
However, we were greeted by signs indicating that the playground was locked shut due to icy conditions.
With the remaining snow quickly melting away and the temperature at 45 degrees, I found myself grappling with the unfortunate trait of being a Texan who resents being told what to do. Without a second thought, I hiked up my skirt, removed my shoes, and climbed over the fence. My friend helped lift my son over before joining me.
What happened next was delightful: other parents and children saw us having a great time and soon asked for our assistance in getting their kids over the fence as well.
But in modern New York, such joy can’t last: I zoomed down the slide in my fancy church attire, only to be met by authorities demanding my identification and threatening to issue a fine.
I engaged in a debate, emphasizing that it was 45 degrees and that there was no ice on the playground, proposing that maybe, just maybe, children deserve at least a bit of freedom.
Then, the phrase “arrest” was thrown around.
One complicating aspect of this situation is that the playground is overseen by a trust created as a public benefit corporation, with a board of directors appointed by the governor, mayor, and borough president. Its funding derives from both private and public sources.
Legally, they retain the authority to determine the level of liability they are willing to accept.
This episode — along with the closure of public playgrounds during COVID by city officials for a virus that was neither particularly harmful to children nor easily transmitted outdoors — highlights the reasons behind the exodus of families from the city.
Since 2020, New York City has seen an 18% decline in its population of children aged 5 and under, a trend that is hardly surprising given the exorbitant cost of living, a culture that seems unfriendly to children, and the rise of extreme risk aversion that has created an untenable environment for parents.
If the first half of the 20th century was dubbed “the golden age of child play,” the early 21st century feels like a signaling of its demise.
The mid-’80s brought us milk carton kids. A decade later, Amber Alerts emerged, broadcasting messages regarding missing or endangered children via cable, radio, and text.
In the 2000s, certain prosecutors began cracking down on child truancy.
Now, in the 2020s, the cherished icon of American childhood — the McDonald’s PlayPlace — is being supplanted by screens, with magnificent plastic play structures being dismantled throughout America!
The societal shift has transformed an environment of general leniency into one marked by intense scrutiny and worry.
Nothing has escaped this cultural transition, not even playgrounds.
Since 1981, the federal Consumer Product Safety Commission has released the “Public Playground Safety Handbook,” detailing guidelines such as “bare metal slides, platforms, and steps should be shaded or situated out of direct sunlight.”
These federal recommendations serve as evidence in court. Consider the case of a kindergartener in New Jersey who, in 2014, sustained an injury on a slide with a 35-degree pitch, five degrees steeper than the federally recommended angle of 30 degrees; her family won a $170,000 settlement.
In NYC, an East Harlem father received $75,000 after his child fractured her forearm on a spinning wheel.
A 2010 debacle involved “The Mountain,” a metal climbing structure in Union Square Park, which the Department of Parks and Recreation cordoned off, claiming it became too hot during summer months.
This led to a legislative proposal demanding temperature assessments of play structures in the summer.
Of course, there were specific locations that were genuinely hazardous. The focus on child safety in the 20th century contributed to a two-thirds reduction in childhood accidental deaths from 1900 to 2000.
However, as we approached the 21st century, the cultural goal shifted to completely eliminating any risk from childhood experiences.
As Maria Montessori pointed out over a century ago, we lose something crucial when we restrict children’s opportunities to play — and deny parents the autonomy to decide what risks their children can manage.
“Since it is through movement that the will realizes itself, we should assist a child in his attempts to put his will into action,” Montessori wrote.
I’m more than willing to lend my support. The only lingering question is whether contemporary New York City will allow me to do so.
Liz Wolfe is an associate editor at Reason magazine. Adapted from Reason.