On Balance

Completely out of the blue, Lily has decided she wants to "ride on a see-saw." When I ask her where she heard of a see-saw, she will not tell me. When I ask her to describe one, she does. Here's the funny thing, and you may not know this if you don't--or even if you do--have little kids, the see-saws aren't around anymore.

Gone the way of the playpens and baby walkers, see-saws were clearly deemed dangerous at some point along the line (how quietly they slipped away!) and removed from playgrounds everywhere. Or at least in New York City, and anecdotally in Massachusetts, where children exist on the older generation's fond or at least vivid memories of being unceremoniously deposited bottom first on the concrete patch beneath their end of the see-saw, when the (always larger) child on the other end decided to jump off and run away.

The see-saw we had in our backyard was made of wood and was probably a cousin to thousands of like-minded 1970s, peacenik parent-purchased environmentally-friendly wooden yard structures, such as the swingset and the slide. It was on grass, not concrete, but was like its playground counterparts the scene of many a deliberately thrown child. We loved it, came back for more every time. I remember Lord of the Flies type games centered around it, in which several children would stack themselves on each end, pushing with our feet as hard and fast as we could, occasionally throwing the see-saw off-balance and turning it on its side, spilling all of us on top of each other onto the ground.

Much has been written of this, this trend in outdoor equipment for children to be so safety conscious, so thoroughly, overly designed as to lock out so much as the possibility of a spill but for a wholly child-motivated push or jump. And although I don't bemoan the loss of the concrete patches at the bases of the jungle gyms, which are surely not still called jungle gyms, and ooo and ahh over the new foam material that floors our playgrounds now, when I think of the see-saw, and how much fun Lily would have falling off of it, and even the tears she would shed when the falling was not of her own volition but a result of a stronger child and an irrepressible urge for (temporary) domination, I feel a little bit sad. Again, a cliche in this day and age to say so, but when we adults try to control too much in our children's world, something forever is lost. Too much safety, if you ask me, can be a dangerous thing.

I look online to see if one can still buy a see-saw if one wished to buck this trend, stake a claim for moderate risk in the safety of one's backyard. There are a few. They have bells and whistles and are pricey and come with safety features and multiple seating. No need to pile on like gram weights at the end of a scale. I don't feel drawn to them. I would prefer, instead, to take Lily back to 1976 and let her have a real ride.