Little House on the Playground

Two summers ago, I was on my way to the C train at Clinton/Washington Avenue, when I stumbled upon a Little Tikes “Activity Garden” with a white piece of paper attached to it marked, “Free.” Covered in dirt and some bugs, I carried it upstairs to our apartment, scrubbed it off with bleach, and declared it a new toy for our then one-and-a-half year old. This very suburban backyard piece seemed displaced in the city, but it provided hours of indoor playtime and gave us the ability to actually cook dinner for more than 15 minutes without checking to see if our son had stuck his finger in an electrical outlet. Our son grew attached to it, and the hours and hours he would play in “his room,” especially with the suburban mailbox that he could repeatedly open and close, relieved our guilt since he didn’t actually have a room of his own. Before we knew it he was claiming it as “his own house.” But after four seasons, cramped into a small apartment, we began to loathe the piece, and were sick of tripping on it, so a year later, we decided to inform him that it would be moving, even though it was us that should really be. Like so many of the toys that you inexplicably grow so attached to, we weren’t sure who would miss it more—he or us? He was brought to tears pleading with us to give up “my house.” My husband had asked me nicely many times if I could part with it. We carried it downstairs to Underwood Park on Labor Day weekend, expecting that someone would adopt the item.

We were proved wrong. The first day I left it in the Sara Anesta Garden, the grassy area at the back of Underwood Park.  By the end of September, it had moved down to the lower level of the park, at the “big kid” side of the playground. On each successive visit to the park, our son became more and more adjusted to the idea that we were sharing and that other kids would benefit from something he loved so much. He progressed from saying, “Get out of my house,” to “Look, he’s sharing the house!” As we approach holiday season, and the weather turns frigid, I’m happy to report that it’s still in one piece. It travels from big kid to little kid side of the park, and sometimes to the picnic benches. In the fall, the little ones placed leaves in the mailbox as fake mail, and maybe if the weather gets colder, we’ll serve some hot cocoa inside. It’s a little lesson of philanthropy for a 2 year old: letting go of something you love can bring others happiness.

Here in Brooklyn, we green-conscious parents spend a lot of time avoiding plastic and making sure our kids’ toys are wood. During holiday purchases this season, sustainability is deeper than just buying green. It has economic and social dimensions too. We can recycle toys and reuse them, share them and create community. As we dig deep into some of our half-empty pockets this season, remember that sometimes joy is spread with very little money involved. I cherish our community in Underwood Park, where kids can play together, and as Hannah Mengistu describes, where “a lively and diverse group of Brooklyn parents can gather with their children.”

There are more ways to give this Wednesday night. Here’s how.