Convenience killed creativity

Don't buy the sidewalk chalk, find the rocks that produce chalk

Phoebe’s doll house in an episode of Friends

"If we wanted to write on the sidewalk, we actually had to search for rocks that would produce chalk marks. We couldn't just go to the store and pick up some sidewalk chalk," my mom said to me while discussing popular outdoor activities for children. She wasn't annoyed or jealous or critical of the fact that now colorful chalk can be easily purchased for kids to write with. She was merely making an observation with a tone that said, "wow, we've come a long way."

I too used found rocks to write on the sidewalk with when I was a kid, and I remember exactly the types of rocks we went and searched for with this purpose in mind. My friends, siblings, and I held onto them, storing them in a safe place for use later on. We didn't discard the rocks once they were a little beat up, because we would then have to find new ones. The acquisition of chalk wasn't always a simple car ride away. 

My mom's statement got me thinking about all of the things from my childhood, as well as those of previous generations, that we had to find or create on our own but now exist pre-packaged and ready to purchase and use. Something seems to be lost by this convenience. Innovation is an integral part of play and learning, and when some elements of that process are ready-made or easy to come by, children not only skip the process of learning how to create the things they use, a little bit of joy and pride is also removed from play and the outcome of the creative process. 

One might think, "so what if sidewalk chalk can be easily purchased? Children can still exercise their creativity with the chalk." Certainly, the point of drawing with chalk is to be creative in what one draws. The chalk itself is the means to create, it's not the end of creativity. But, valuable lessons about ingenuity come from building what we need to then be further creative. Plus, knowledge about how the world works is lost when steps of the creative process are skipped.

Tree houses, forts, doll houses, and skate parks also come to mind as products one can now purchase that used to require the creative mind to dream up and build. Like sidewalk chalk, they too serve their primary purpose once they are constructed: tree houses and forts are gathering places, doll houses are scene for imaginative play, and skate parks are where one learns to rollerblade, roller skate, or skateboard. However, when a child builds these things for themselves, they add their unique style to the product, learn how the products they use are constructed, and beam with pride, relishing in the hard work they put into creating the means to their own adventure.

My husband to this day tells the story of when he and his friends built a skate park in his neighborhood. There was vacant land nearby, and they foraged to find everything they needed to build their dream place to learn and practice skateboard tricks. He does not tell the story of whether he became a great skateboarder. His point of pride is that in grammar school he took part in the construction of something that many neighborhood kids enjoyed. Learning to skateboard was besides the point; he could have done that anywhere.

My brother and I used to build forts using blankets and pillows gathered from around the house, as many kids have done. Even though we had to tear them down the same day we constructed them, or, if we got lucky, a day or two after, we loved creating forts and having a little place to call our own, one that was not shared with our parents. If someone had bought us a fort or elaborate indoor tent that was meant to function as a fort, we likely would have gotten bored with it and quickly moved onto something else, even though our parents had spent a good amount of money buying us something nice. We wouldn't have felt as invested in the store-bought version as we did in our hand-made fortress. 

There are many complaints about "kids these days." They are apathetic, depressed, anxious, coddled, and the list goes on. What if a contributing factor is that we have removed many opportunities for kids to create things on their own, things that require physical and mental effort, spark their creativity, and that they can be proud of? If I bought my daughter a doll house with all the fixings—furniture, dolls, and amenities—or a prefab tree house, painted up nice and full of goodies. She would probably play with either for a few weeks, or months, lose interest, then move onto the next pre-packaged toy, with the same level of interest and subsequent boredom as with the doll or tree house. 

On the other hand, if she built the doll house herself, with her parents assistance when needed, and manufactured or foraged for everything that she wanted to go inside of it, her enjoyment of it would likely extend and her eyes would light up every time she talked about her innovation, now and for years to come. She would know that it's possible for her to do things on her own, and she would understand the world around her a little better.

Life got a little bit easier when tree and doll house, forts, and sidewalk chalk were just a quick trip to the store away, only requiring cash or credit to acquire and have available for play after a few minutes or hours of assembly. But easier does not equal more fulfilling. As humans, being innovative is in our bones. When we replace creativity with convenience, our store of knowledge and life satisfaction diminish.