“Mommy, can we go watch the wind blow?”

It has been hot, hot, hot here in Toronto so far this summer. It was a particularly hot day this past weekend, and we were doing our best to keep our children entertained inside. My daughter approached me and said “Mommy, can we go outside and watch the wind blow?” For real, she said this. This was one of those moments where I felt so very lucky to hang out with a 3 year old everyday. Heck ya, I want to go watch the wind blow with you. But, I am a millennial mom, so my second string of  thoughts were, ‘will she get sun stroke?’ ‘She doesn’t have sunscreen on!’ ‘where’s her hat?’  and ‘where’s her water bottle?’ I fought these anxieties in that particular moment, and we went to run in the field and watch the wind blow. We got a few mosquito bites by the pond in the process and our cheeks were slightly rosy from the sun upon our return; but, it’s a moment I don’t think I’ll ever forget, even though there was nothing particularly extraordinary about it.

This also inspired me to write this post, because so often I just play it safe while also trying to manufacture the fun and activity in my children’s lives. I try to avoid this urge to over-program whenever I can, but I find it very challenging and I am not always successful at it. When I think back to my childhood, however, I remember playing in fields for hours upon end; I remember climbing to the tops of trees and ‘GT-racing’ down massive hills. To be honest, I am not quite sure where my parents were when this was happening,  but I loved this free-play and was grateful they weren’t around to rain on my danger parade. Of course, later on, I took to sport on my own volition, without any pressure from adults. I don’t think our parents thought about this much, as this was just the norm in the 80s. In actuality, there were important lessons embedded in these care-free moments of free-play, including testing physical limits, developing relationships, and failing in a low-stakes environment. The research shows that this generation may be missing out on these opportunities for free-play for a variety of reasons including this pressure to over-program, parents increased concerns about their child’s safety and, you know, cell phones.

ParticipACTION releases a ‘report card’ on the physical activity patterns of children and youth each year in Canada. In 2015, the report attributed  high inactivity levels to a ‘protection paradox,’ that is, a parents intense focus on intervening in their child’s lifestyle to make sure they are healthy, safe, and happy (ParticipACTION Canada, 2015). This over-protection leads to restrictions on a child’s age-appropriate independence and coping skills, and therefore, their ability to locate their own joyful experiences all on their own. This only gets more difficult as they grow older.

Free-play is a heavily theorized concept in the world of physical education. This concept of humans moving their bodies for the sheer joy of it is a concept that Millennial parents, like myself, must work at. I see it as yet another important opportunity in a child’s life in addition to dance, soccer, piano lessons, etc. Frohlich et al. (2013) have documented the disappearance of free-play in children as critical to their development and physical health and my own research extends this finding into the activity patterns and self-surveillance of young people in their teen years. Sadly, many young people have expressed a lack of joy in moving their bodies when they reach high school years (of course, more on this later.)

So, back to free-play. Research shows that providing these opportunities for children at a young age can negate some of the anxieties associated with achieving a clear goal, a specific body, a desirable Instagram feed (just another goal) and may contribute to locating joyful experiences associated with the body. This applies to how we fuel our bodies as well; sometimes it should just be for fun.  That’s why I have decided this is going to be a ‘1980s summer’ for my family. Our days so far have been spent outside, in bathing suits, eating freezies (full sugar), swimming and running around barefoot, with no regard for day or time. It wasn’t easy to avoid over-programming, but I am loving every minute watching my kids engage in the important ‘program’ of free-play.

Lazily,

Laura

 

 

 

 

 

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Deep Dive

The Canada Day long weekend is upon us here in the north, and while many will be diving off a dock into some pristine body of water (I heart Canada),  my deep dive involves a first glimpse into the very nuanced world of physical activity and access to being ‘fit’ and ‘healthy’ in a North American context. It was no joke when I said that this undertaking is messy; the job of telling someone to ‘get outside,’ ‘get fit’ and ‘put down the phone’ carries a whole range of sociocultural nuances that flow through a vast network of privilege and power. It is important that I lay this foundation before digging in deeper to living a fit and healthy life through education and embodied experiences; sadly, it’s not so simple.

I will try to limit stuffy academic terms as much as possible here, but, I must share just one, and that is the concept of Healthism. Healthism, a concept introduced by Robert Crawford in the 1970’s, is the belief that health can be achieved unproblematically through individual effort and discipline (Crawford, 1970). Further to this, it represents a moral imperative to do so. Put simply, being fit and healthy depends on YOU, and its your job as a good, contributing citizen to keep it tight (or at least keep your blood pressure down and your BMI within the ‘healthy’ range – don’t get me started on BMI, people!).

Government and educational policy represent dominant forces that deliver these messages through public service announcements and school practices. Why? To keep the population healthy, out of hospital, and to take the heat off larger societal problems that may contribute to sedentary lifestyles, such as access to community resources, time, healthy food, money, and the list goes on. This is what I mean when I talk about power and how those in power can wield control over the individual in very subtle, yet powerful ways (more on Foucault later). An important study came out this week and was published in the Toronto Star that sheds light on the startling imbalances of after school opportunities for students in the poorest neighborhoods in Toronto, as an example (Students in poorer neighbourhoods may miss out on ‘vital programs,’ Toronto Star, June 25th 2018).

It starts to become clear that good health and well-being are not things one can achieve unproblematically through individual effort and discipline. I am not saying that those who have access to the best programs and schools should feel guilty, or that those from lower socioeconomic backgrounds do not have the ability to achieve good health; neither of these points prove productive for anyone. Instead, I am saying that we should try to be mindful of these social determinants of health and the privilege that comes along with achieving ‘good health.’ As someone who has taught in both the public and independent school systems, I like to engage all of my students in conversation about privilege. To be honest, as soon as we get on the topic, they often bring this up anyways because this generation is super cool and committed to social justice. I’ll do another post on this later.

So, as I embark on this journey of theorizing and actualizing good health for myself and others, considering access, privilege and one’s background will shape these conversations moving forward. Happy Canada Day to all! We are peacing out to the north for 2 weeks and living our best life – without WIFI!

Laura

 

 

 

 

Where my Gen Z’s at?

For my first post I want to spend some time discussing the impressive ‘Generation Z.’  As an educator, this is the generation that I teach and spend time doing research with in 2018. This generation is optimistic, interconnected and driven in the face of constant social and political upheaval. They hold massive potential to make significant change socially, politically and economically, and they do, because they are not afraid to take risks (CBC News, 2018). According to psychologist Jean Twenge, this is also a generation that experiences anxiety and depression at increasingly alarming rates in comparison to previous generations. I am not making this point to be the ‘debbie downer’ of the educational blogosphere, but rather, because I believe this is where education can be harnessed to help these young people change the world while also being mindful of their own well-being. I should preface that I do not wish to over-simplify or overgeneralize the seriousness of mental health issues, but I do hope to discuss some of the overarching trends that may contribute to this statistic and engage in conversation on the topic.

I am obviously older than the Gen Z cohort and I hail from the last generation not born into a technologically advanced society (in the developed world, anyways). In high school, I would wait 20 minutes for my internet to ‘dial up’ (the struggle was real), and then I would ‘ICQ’ message my friends and my mind would proceed be blown. There was no social media, no cell phones, and no forum to compare ones life or body. There was no cyber bullying. After 20 minutes of rudimentary messaging, I would head outside to hang out with friends, like, in person. It was simpler times.

It is me, and other people like me, who are educating these ‘digital natives’ I discuss  with you today. These are interesting and complex times in education as our students tend to be the experts on the topic of technology and social media though we continue to be the ones to try to teach them about it. We know this, because we often sit back and watch in awe as our students do things we never knew Instagram/Twitter/Facebook/Googledoc could do. I’ve spent a lot of time with teens jokingly helping their useless teacher with new technology and their response is always, “Ms., how do you NOT know this?” I spend a lot of time thinking about how to narrow this gap in knowledge, if only to save myself the embarrassment or to maintain some semblance of coolness with my students.

The idea of educators attempting to assist young people in navigating their social world is nothing new; social media literacy education has rolled out across the province in the last decade, and while this is fabulous and necessary, I argued in my PhD dissertation  that the lack of sophistication of this literacy education does not do our Gen Z’s  justice. Maybe this is because the people who write the policy, like me, used dial up Internet at their age.  Further, I ask, is our social media literacy really making serious connections between mental health and social media use?

This brings me to my last point about mental health and technology and one of my passions in educational research and practice. As a physical educator, I believe that humans need to move and to play. They need to play a sport or an instrument, they need to write, act, and to go outside. They need to educate themselves about media and then they need to unplug from that media and have embodied experiences that are real. I believe having conversations with young people about their lived experiences through their bodies (embodiment) is something they need to talk about; they need to talk about the physical reactions they have to social media, school, sport, food, sex, relationships, everything. But finding the space to have and to discuss embodied experiences becomes difficult in the face of increased school pressure, increased pressure to look like ‘insta-models,’ to have the most friends on Snapchat and to be part of the right ‘Whatsapp’ chat group.

These posts will be about engaging students, teachers and myself in finding ways to talk about the embodied realities of living in a technology driven society and how education and movement can assist in  finding balance in all of our lives. I hope you will join me on this complex, messy, amazing journey!

Thanks for listening to my first rant!

Laura