American children today live within a society that is at once protective and
threatening. Even as the “built environment” has stolen space
used traditionally by children for unstructured, unsupervised play, adults’ efforts
to provide protective spaces indoor (community centers, YMCA) and outdoor (playgrounds,
sports leagues) for play have often been rejected by children or co-opted for
use in unintended ways. The growth of consumer society and proliferation
of mass media have offered children countless fantasy characters to stimulate
their imagination, but have also exposed them to inappropriate mature themes;
and now the internet offers children a virtually unlimited alternative play
world, but exposes them to new dangers as well. How “childhood” in
America arrived at this point and what that means for children aged six to
eleven today are the focus of Howard Chudacoff’s new book, Children
at Play.
Chudacoff is one of America’s most respected historians. He has
served since 1970 as a professor of history on the faculty of Brown University,
where his research has long centered on the history of the American family. Chudacoff
writing has examined people at all stages of American life, including adolescents,
bachelors, newlyweds, empty-nesters, retirees, and widows. Chudacoff
is also well-known for his work as the co-author of A People and a Nation (now
in its seventh edition) and The Evolution of American Urban Society (now
in its sixth edition), both popular college texts.
With Children at Play, though,Howard Chudacoff creates something
familiar, yet entirely different. Children at Play draws broadly from
an expansive repository of research created by other historians, sociologists,
and psychologists to portray the changes and continuities of American “childhood”--what
America’s youth played with and where, from colonial times to today. Into
this synthesis Chudacoff inserts excerpts from the diaries of scores of children
and reminisces of adults to illustrate not only how children played, but also
what that meant to them. This recovery of the past play world of American
children was probably Chudacoff’s greatest challenge, but is this book’s
greatest achievement.
Chudacoff organizes Children at Play into fifty-year chapters to examine chronologically
what Chudacoff calls the “contested realm of childhood.” His
study revolves around the struggle between children and parents (and adults
in general) over the purpose of play, the intent of playthings, and the use
of space for play. Although Children at Play begins in seventeenth-century
colonial America, most of it is devoted to the years after 1800, when middle-class
Americans gradually acknowledged that a distinct period of “childhood” existed
that should be nurtured. To this end parents willingly sacrificed their
children’s productive time from the family economy to play—so long
as the time spent in play was channeled into educational activities designed
to develop responsible adults and citizens. Manufacturers and marketers
supported parents’ romanticized vision of childhood and supplied an array
of toys designed to educate yet still enable imaginative play.
Through its chapters Chudacoff’s book searches for change in how children
have played, but ultimately concludes that children possess an innate predilection
for play that is timeless. The heart of this book therefore explores
how children’s play responded through the twentieth century to the growth
of industrialization, urbanization, immigration, consumerism, mass media, and
the electronic age. Despite the efforts of parents and professionals to protect
children from dangers created by modern society and technology, Chudacoff finds
that children inevitably asserted autonomy within their play environment; they
used toys for unintended purposes, and modified found objects and spaces to
express their imagination and satisfy their impulse to engage in unsupervised,
unstructured activity.
As with any ambitious work, Children at Play has limitations. Chudacoff
assiduously considers gender, race, ethnicity, and class throughout his study
of American childhood, but one aspect of this seems overly simplified. Chudacoff
defines the creation of “childhood” at the turn of the nineteenth
century as having been a middle-class ideal. Children from working class
families could, when time and finances permitted, also participate. Chudacoff
implies, however, that the children of the upper-class have always enjoyed
a sheltered period of childhood development, with access to all that consumer
culture could offer. Research published by Holly Brewer in By Birth
or Consent (2005) has persuasively shown, though, how first-born children
of elite families in early colonial America were expected by law to assume
political and financial responsibilities (and privileges) far beyond the capability
of their tender years.1
A less important but more pervasive irritant throughout Children at Play stems
from the very nature of its evidence. Although the children’s diaries,
engravings, and photographs selected by Chudacoff add life to the narrative,
many of them are so general that they could easily apply to other time periods. For
example, the book includes an engraving that depicts seven youths in seventeenth-century
Puritan New England falling through an ice-covered river during a game of football
on the Sabbath. Chudacoff explains that this depicts “illicit,
unauthorized play that defies the rules of adults that kids are careful to
conceal.” (17) This same illustration, however, could also illustrate
Chudacoff’s description of post-1950 play, where he finds that “With
immature sensibilities, youngsters at times create amusements in which they
unintentionally put themselves in jeopardy.” (208) The problem
is, as three of the many scholars Chudacoff cites have concluded, that “Children
have not changed. [They just want to] be children and do childlike things.” (210) And
herein lays the obstacle most likely to prevent readers from reaching the golden
nuggets found in the final chapter. The division of the chapters into
fifty-year increments remains unexplained and so seems historically unrooted. Moreover,
because the object of each chapter is to discover how children’s play
has changed, the book’s chronological organization inevitably results
in repetition that some readers may find tedious.
Because of when Children at Play begins and ends, it presents a paradox
that readers should not overlook. The book describes colonial America as having
had essentially no generation gap—the number of children within a family,
along with extended family and demographic isolation, created a seamless continuity
between generations, in which children interacted and played with both siblings
and adults. As family size decreased through the nineteenth century and
stronger peer associations formed as a consequence of compulsory schooling
in the mid-nineteenth century, a gap between America’s generations emerged. Although
that gap has persisted, and perhaps widened, in modern American society, Chudacoff
argues that a compression of generations has occurred that carries important
ramifications. The commercial consumer society and electronic age have
created a society in which, despite the efforts of parents, children are pushed
prematurely toward adulthood: preteens dress as adults and are exposed to the
reality of divorce, poverty, war, and prejudice. At the same time, many
adults attempt to cling to aspects of childhood, adopting the dress and electronic
toys of teens. What is play for children is entertainment for adults.
Chudacoff insists, though, that professionals’ advice urging parents
to spend more time with their children and direct their play is misguided. Instead,
parents should permit greater freedom in how, when, and where children play,
thereby mitigating the problems associated with over-scheduling. To that
end, Chudacoff urges Americans to again provide unsupervised spaces where children
can freely manipulate their environment, directed only by their own creativity
and ingenuity. These, and other, conclusions from the final chapter are
by far the most interesting and salient of this important addition to the history
of childhood in America.
1. Holly Brewer,
By
Birth or Consent (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press
for the Omohundro Institute of Early American History and Culture, 2005).