Remember to Play

There are always reasons why people do the things they do. Everyone who acts a certain way is that way for a reason (probably a number of reasons converging to make them who they are). It's really easy to point our fingers at people and accuse them of being horrible human beings, it's harder to ask ourselves why they might act the way they do. I'm guilty of this all the time--of only seeing the behavior on the surface and failing to ask myself what happened earlier in their lives to cause them to act out in ways I disagree with.

This past quarter's magazine published by my under grad alma mater, Seattle Pacific University had a great article profiling Greg Mortenson, the author of Three Cups of Tea. Mortenson has helped to fundraise and begin tons of schools in Afghanistan and has become intimately familiar with the people, culture, and traditions of the region. There was a section of the article that caught my attention and broke my heart. May we remember to treasure the moments we have to play, to see our children play, and may we recognize that not everyone is lucky enough to have that opportunity.

The Importance of Play

We’ve had our best year ever in Afghanistan. We’ve set up about three dozen schools, and we’re going now into more volatile, remote areas, areas where the Taliban are. We were able to set up the first girls’ high schools in five new provinces in Afghanistan. And one of them is in Uruzgan province.This happened in a very interesting way: Last year we set a goal that maybe in 20 years, we might be able to put a girls’ high school in Uruzgan province, which is the home of Mullah Omar, the leader of the Taliban. That’s kind of our long-term goal — not short-term, long-term.

So only a few months later, we got contacted by the Shura, the elders of Uruzgan, and they said, “We want a school in Uruzgan, a girls’ school.” So I said, “Well, why don’t you come and visit a school first, and let’s talk.” This spring they came over to Char Asiab Valley. These are black turbans, armed to the teeth. When they got to our school, they saw the giant playground, so they put down their weapons and for the next hour and a half, they went on the swings and slide and had a glorious time. Turbans flying all over the place.

After an hour and a half, I said, “You know, let’s get serious now. Let’s go see the headmaster, and [we’ve] got to look at the curriculum.” They said, “No, no, we’re totally satisfied. We want a girls’ high school in Uruzgan province. But you must put in a playground first.” … So we started construction six weeks ago, and of course the playground started first. And my only worry is that they’re going to use the playground, and the girls aren’t going to get to use the playground.

But in all seriousness, I’ve talked to these men a lot, deep into the night. They had no chance to play as children. They didn’t have that joy; they were in war, they were in destruction, they were traumatized. Many of them lost their parents; they never even saw their father. When you think about it, play is really so important.