“Never be within doors when you can rightly be without.” Charlotte Mason – Home Education

       My toddler grandson took me by the hand and led me to the small postage stamp-sized backyard of his aunt and uncle’s home. He played in the pile of dead leaves, scooping them into a dustpan and re-arranging them into another pile. One-third of the yard was concrete stepping stones carefully laid in an arrangement to make a small patio area. Another third of the yard was planted with bulbs that were growing into small plants. The other third was weeds. A high wooden fence surrounded the yard for privacy. There were no trees. But the air was warm and inviting. We went back into the duplex apartment, but my grandson soon wanted to be outside again. There wasn’t much for him to do, or to play with, but it was evident he preferred the outside to the gloomy inside.

      Later as I went to my car parked out on the street, I saw some neighbor kids riding their bikes back and forth down the paved driveway and parking area. There was no grass for them to play on. The oldest girl always rode to the edge of the driveway where it met the road and acted as guard for the younger boys, making sure they never went beyond her boundary into the roadway. Several cars drove by on the road at fairly high speeds. There were no sidewalks on which children could  skateboard or ride their bikes in safety.

      Later that night I listened to the sounds coming through the open window. I heard the cars from the main road only two blocks away. Cries of children, barking dogs and the talking of adults punctuated the night. They were sounds of people crowded together in close quarters--people who are trying to make a life in a town where space is a premium—and builders and contractors are interested in making the most of their investments—at the expense of a quality life and environment for the people who live in the buildings. 

      I grieve for my future grandchildren who will grow up living inside watching TV and playing video games because it’s “just too dangerous to play outside.” Besides, there just isn’t any room to throw a ball. The park is too far away to walk to. This is an upscale community—in a prosperous part of California. 

      It didn’t used to be this crowded. Years ago the houses were built on large city lots. But those lots have been bought up and divided in to two or three more lots where apartment buildings and duplexes and other multi-unit housing are squeezed into the same area that once housed only one family.  Land is expensive, so it makes economical sense to squeeze as many homes as possible into the space available. The people living in the apartments and duplexes cannot afford to rent a house nor  buy one, so at least they have an affordable place to live. But how is it affecting the children? I wonder.

      I grew up in a suburb at the edge of a large city. We had a large fenced backyard, and a medium sized front yard. And there was the street with a sidewalk. It wasn’t busy, so we also played there and rode our bikes without fear of cars hitting us. The school yard was close by, and there was a large “green belt” area of the town within walking distance where we could picnic, feed the ducks and play outdoor games.

     How is the lack of open space affecting our children? The children of the ghettos of New York City and other larger cities used to play in empty lots. What happens when all the empty lots are gone?