I saw this item this morning in the local paper and thought it worthy of discussion in this forum. Who thinks swings have become too dangerous for kids? What's going on here?
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/blogs/sfmoms/detail?entry_id=71443&tsp=1
I saw this item this morning in the local paper and thought it worthy of discussion in this forum. Who thinks swings have become too dangerous for kids? What's going on here?
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/blogs/sfmoms/detail?entry_id=71443&tsp=1
“Tinkering School is a place where kids can pick up sticks and hammers and other dangerous objects and be trusted. Trusted not to hurt themselves. And trusted not to hurt others.” – Gever Tulley
What Gever and Julie have done with Tinkering School is applicable to our day-to-day, grown-up challenges too. It’s not hard to imagine a large corporate or small business environment, where hands-on creative problem solving, playing with dangerous objects, will unleash new ideas, innovations and prototypes for achieving a diverse set of needs and goals. Whether creating new products, collaborating across different functional teams or motivating non-traditional approaches, adults can learn a lot from the way children view the tools and elements at their disposal. If you doubt this, watch how kids can create entirely new worlds from the toys in their rooms.
Peter Drucker addressed innovation and the need to separate such efforts from the bureaucracy and structure of the core organization way back in 1985 with his book, “Innovation and Entrepreneurship”. He saw the need to unshackle development from the business as usual (BAU). In other words, there’s no one way to solve all problems.
Posner and Kouzes similarly promoted the notion of a transcendent leadership arising from active participation. Their book, “The Leadership Challenge”, outlines an active process for leading and innovating across any business or organizational venture. Posner reminds us that “Leaders Do.” Indeed, there are mistakes, but a leader won’t dwell on what didn’t work … what failed, he or she will isolate the reason and adapt, and try again … and again … and again.
George Kembel, co-founder and executive director of the Hasso Plattner Institute of Design at Stanford, aka the d.school, has been an outspoken supporter of applying rapid prototyping (continuous iterative design) to all kinds of issues – from developing new products to providing clean water to creating self-sustaining economies. Kembel’s talk “Awakening Creativity” given at the Chautauqua Institution in 2009 is a valuable illustration of how design thinking may help individuals and groups tackle a broad range of complex challenges.
Let me return to the Tinkering School. Children, perhaps because they’ve not been indoctrinated with structurally ossifying requirements such as business cases, ROI analyses or product development models, have an innate ability to solve problems quickly and continuously. They simply don’t give up.
Gever’s TED Talk on the Tinkering School shows how his students, when faced with difficult setbacks or complexities, decorate the unfinished project. Yes. That's right. They decorate with markers, paint, and stickers. It shifts them temporarily out of the current line of thinking – a line that seems at first to have hit a dead-end, and opens up new ideas and creates a “kind of conceptual incubation.” So that they don’t lose sight of the goal, he and his team “keep the landscape of the projects tilted toward completion.” Imagine what such an approach could do for us grown-ups too, if we’d be willing to pause and play or experiment a little more often.
Still not convinced? Listen to the sound of pure glee and elation at the end of the TED Talk video. When was the last time you Woo-hoo’d on the completion of a project?
I have a scar on my left index finger where I learned an important lesson about pocket knife safety when I was eleven years old. I had forgotten about it until I’d re-watched Gever’s TED talk on “5 Dangerous Things for Kids”, which includes ideas such as Play with Fire, Own a Pocket Knife, Throw a Spear and Drive a Car.
This past week, I was speaking with friends about how risk averse our culture has become. There is no argument that the broad adoption of bicycle helmets for example has been critical to the safety of kids and adults alike. Honestly, it’s hard to believe that we were ever allowed to ride our bikes down the streets without them. Remember building ramps out of plywood to play Evil Knievel? I do! Did I crash? Did I scrape my elbows and knees? Of course, but I wouldn’t trade those mistakes for anything.
My grandfather always seemed to have a pocket knife with him. A ready knife gave him the power to tighten screws, open boxes and lids, make car repairs and to trim shrubs, among other things. I remember the first time he taught me to whittle a stick, where he talked about how important it was to carve away from my body (a lesson that nonetheless took my own mistake to be fully appreciated). Ironically, it was my grandfather who bought me the very Swiss Army knife responsible for the scar and memory I still have today.
I also remember the cold, snowy winter day when I first drove a car. Actually, it was a truck, which my grandfather and I had loaded that morning with bales of hay to feed the cattle on his farm. His instructions were simple. Drive straight and slow and let him know when we were getting close to the fence at the end of the field. He climbed into the bed of the truck and started cutting slabs of hay to kick out to the herd of cows following us. I was alone in the cab of the truck, barely tall enough to see over the dashboard and so focused on keeping a steady pace that I forgot to tell him that the fence was now a few yards ahead. But he’d already climbed back into the truck and applied the brake. I was 12 years old. He was keeping an eye on me the entire time.
Mysteries are only revealed to those who get to play with them – whether from disassembling machines, poking sticks into an open pit fire or driving a truck. I recognize that enabling our children to do these things makes us parents cringe, but giving them the opportunity to do so (with supervision) is an important teaching moment that strengthens their understanding of the world and allows families to create bonding moments and memories. It also gives kids the confidence to establish their own knowledge of things … on their own terms … and in their own ways.
The scar on my finger is so much more than a scar. It is a milestone.
Dad? What are cooties?
It’s one of the oldest questions known to human existence, right? Okay, well, that might be slight exaggeration, but it does seem to be a “right of passage” sort of question that all kids face at one point or another. More on how to tackle the cooties question in a moment.
In the meantime, here’s an assignment for parents, uncles, grandparents, nieces, nephews, cousins, aunts and caregivers with a copy of “Fifty Dangerous Things” close at hand: ask the kids your know and love to flip through the book and pick out the five or ten dangerous things they’d most like to do.
What you’ll discover is that children select items that reflect their own personalities and wishes, their own need to experience what they typically cannot through the common everyday sort of activities. You’ll also discover what things they don’t want to experience. Use it as a basis for discussion and learning, and a basis for getting them involved.
I asked my own sons to flip through Gever and Julie’s wonderful book, and to write down the projects that appealed to them. Here’s the list I got back:
#8 – Throw a Spear
#11 – Throw Rocks
#15 – Throw Things from a Moving Car
#19 – Stand on the Roof
#21 – Spend an Hour Blindfolded
#23 – Break Glass
#26 – Learn Dramatic Sword Fighting
#27 – Make a Slingshot
Why did you select these items, I asked. What I heard was, throwing things is just fun, and I’ve never gotten to go up on the roof before. One of my sons asked if we could use the slingshot to break glass – a thoughtful combination of #27 and #23. Great idea! Let me get the safety glasses from the garage.
I asked my sons what things they DIDN’T want to try and they identified two:
#1 – Lick a 9-volt Battery
#4 – Kiss Hello Like the French
Again, I asked why. Well, won’t I get electrocuted if I lick a battery? And, what if electricity tastes yucky? Reasonable questions indeed. Let’s find out!
But what about the kissing bit? Why not kiss like the French? After a brief pause and a blush, I got another question – what are cooties?
Like any good parent, I thought about how best to answer this question. I considered the symbolism of cooties the invisible result of doing something unknown or unfamiliar. But didn’t think that would work and in the end said, “hey guys, who wants to go throw rocks?!” After all, throwing things is just fun … and distractions can be great learning experiences too.
Did you get a chance to see the latest from Tinkering School last week? Coming home to see those photos after a day at Adventure Playground made me feel like I was almost there!
One acre of the enormous Central Park in Huntington Beach, Ca is dedicated to adventurous play. Though it is relatively tiny my daughter and her friend Chris were busy for the whole day. Going back and forth between the 'mud' area—a rafting pond, rope bridge and low-tech water slide, and the 'building' area—5 tree forts, a wood pile and tire area, seemed to be the recipe for a perfect summer day. The Adventure Playground has been open during summers for 30 years and has the casual, homemade atmosphere from the 1970's that is nearly impossible to find anymore. Donated wood is welcome so I brought a trunk load of construction scrap. When we arrived the kids ran off to the rafting pond and the manager, Mark, got a wheelbarrow to unload the wood.

"My muscles bent nails!"
The Building area has a few communal rules that seem to keep everyone safe and busy. After short orientation kids get a hand stamp so they can check out a hammer or saw and get three nails. My favorite rule was the system of earning more nails. Two bent nails or four pieces of trash earn one straight nail. This really works to keep the place clean and safe. Edie and Chris loved just hammering (rule: hammer nails, not wood) or, after a big group of kids left, deconstructing their fort to harvest the bent nails. The big kids fort (8 years old and up) became a mini-society as they hashed out the rules of private space or shared materials. For the littlest kids wielding a hammer and making loud noises with it were a thrill.
The simple joys of splashing, balancing, pushing and getting wet and dirty abound in the rafting pond. No guard rails or safety belts here! And, like the building area, has few rules. This place was a great, one day get way for us! You can find out about the history of adventure playgrounds at Lia Sutton's website. Also check out the Berkley, Ca. Adventure Playground, which is the only other one in the US.

Sadly, this is one of two Adventure Playgrounds in the United States; apparently two in Houston closed recently.
Hello all. My name is Mark Heisten. I’m this week’s guest blogger. And I’m the father of two sons, ages eight and five, who have numerous bumps, scrapes and bruises (and early-onset wisdom) to show that they fearlessly get up close and personal with danger.
However, I must confess that I have been known to enable dangerous behavior and injuries within the house by playing chase down the hallway, wrestling next to the coffee table, throwing baseballs/footballs/tennis balls in the living room (sorry, mom). I am a parent, so one of my primary jobs is to keep the boys safe, right? But where do the “teaching moments” come in when one is so busy staying safe?
One of those moments came a few weeks ago, while we were vacationing in Vermont. It was a warm and sunny afternoon, when my older son and I joined the Morrison brothers – Justin and Dan, on a sight-seeing visit to the top of 3,800ft Equinox Mountain. As with most of the mountains in the Taconic and Green mountain range, its rise and elevation are understated from the road. No dramatic spire. No rocky peak. It was a lush green quilt of maple, birch, pine, dogwood and ferns from base to top.
The excursion promised great views and a little bit of exercise before dinner. Why would danger cross my mind at all? A mountain with a perfectly good, paved road all the way to the top is no cause for alarm.
About three quarters of the way to the summit, we pulled over and discovered a trailhead with a wooden, painted arrow that said “Lookout Rock 0.8M.” It might as well have said “Adventure. Go for it!” Without hesitation, we hopped out of the car and set off through the woods.
No … we didn’t have a map. No … we didn’t have any water. No … we didn’t have any bug-spray. No … our iPhones and Blackberry’s didn’t work. In fact, only Dan had the right kind of boots for a real, Yankee hike.
Within the first half mile, we’d lost the trail … twice; and about one mile in my son slid off the side of the trail into a large granite boulder. We walked through poison ivy and fought off swarms of stinging flies. After an hour and a half, all four of us stood in the middle of a grove looking for any sign of the trail or the Summit or even Lookout Rock. Nothing. We circled the area looking for the trail line – using our own sense of direction, the shadows and the rise of the mountain. After ten minutes of truly feeling lost, we finally found a yellow stripe painted on a tree indicating the trail line and were off again. My son didn’t worry and wasn’t afraid. He enjoyed the adventure and the challenge of solving a complex and potentially high-risk problem.
By the time we found Lookout Rock and the Summit and eventually the car, we’d hiked nearly four miles through pretty rough terrain. We discovered a bear cave, a rock with graffiti from 1883, a memorial to a beloved dog and a giant sense of accomplishment.

Summer seems to draw out nostalgic feelings in every adult. Personal memories frame our expectations for our own child’s summer activities. I am certainly no different but my ‘tween daughter is growing up in a huge city with barely a backyard. Things I did every day of the summer (#28 Climb a Tree) are rare treats for her. Conversely, she does some things (#26 Learn Dramatic Sword Play) at camp that I’ve never done. My initial guilt about not providing the perfect summer experience has faded though. With her different experiences she is building different competencies than I have. She brings these newfound competencies to the family and we learn together.
Learning together, while doing dangerous things, is the best part of being a family. As could be expected the dangerous things I had never done myself were the hardest to stand by and watch. No bodily harm would happen when she made her own recipe (DT #42) for a cake. Water puts out a fire so what harm could come from a tiny paper cup of water stuck over the flame (DT #13) at a camping trip? The cake was rather lumpy when it came out of the oven — lessons about mixing and the science of baking soda. And watching the cup singe and then the water boil was fascinating! The shared joy of illicit activities bonds us as colluders—separate from others who haven't dared to climb on the roof (DT #19) or stand at the front of a canoe (DT#50)!
"Oh, you may get a few little cuts and scrapes — that's inevitable. But don't hurt yourself just because you didn't pay attention to what you were doing."
— from Introduction to "Fifty Dangerous Things"
Gever's words are at the core of why I contacted him earlier this year when he was in Los Angeles. In my work I encounter a good number of young children (2 to 7 years old) who are not allowed to use scissors or knives at home. Maybe parents are afraid of the curtains being cut. Or maybe they don’t want their kids to get little cuts or scrapes. But, children are curious. They naturally want to do what their parents do. Scissors are a basic tool for transforming and learning with materials and, in turn, will be part of understanding and interacting with the physical world. Sure, your child may get scraped and cut now and then but with your help they’ll slowly learn how scissors can cut paper (and hair) and should be used when sitting down (and not to poke their brother). These are the beginnings of safety or as Gever puts it, “to learn how to judge danger.”
Who am I and what do I do? I am Mary Beth Trautwein, Director at the reDiscover Center where we use clean, discarded materials to tinker and play with. Essentially, we have a warehouse of loose parts and provide tools and guidance for children to construct whatever sparks their interest. I feel that our support for kids and their parents to learn skills and solve problems is among the most important things we do. In a crowded, busy city like Los Angeles how many homes have a tool bench or sewing machine? How many kids learn how to use a screw driver if cheap appliances are thrown out instead of repaired? Tinkers, young and old, encounter obstacles along their creative path but with a little help and guidance they gain confidence and become inquisitive members of society. At the beginning of “Fifty Dangerous Things” Mike Petrich, Learning Studio Director at the Exploratorium writes, "I argue that NOT doing these things is ultimately a more dangerous proposition for ourselves and society."
So, do these things (and more!) with your child and enjoy exploring the world together. Next time you cut something at home and you notice your child grabbing for the scissors give them a pair of their own. You'd be surprised how young children can use scissors—the girl in the photo above is less than two years old!
Would you like to know what's going on 5000 feet under the surface of the Gulf of Mexico? Click here and take a look at the live video feeds from the Remotely Operated Vehicles working around the BP Macondo-252 well site.
Couple notes about the feeds:
My old work colleage Eddie Hernandez blogs about a very tinkering-oriented way to clean a children's toy castle repurposed as a hamster habitat.
Added on edit: Eddie pointed me to this earlier entry wherein his young engineers build an iPod docking station.
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