Some kid on a slide
Of course we all know that stereotyping is wrong, hurtful, and horribly inaccurate. All it does is isolate us from each other, foment tension and distrust, and prevent people from reaching their potential.
That’s why I would never, EVER, use broad strokes to describe a “type” of person. There are no types. Just people. That’s what I always say.
But geographical locations are different. Places don’t have feelings, hopes, dreams, aspirations. They’re just bits of dirt, rock, and architecture. They’re fair game.
With that in mind, I have prepared a description of the different types of playgrounds we have within a 3-mile radius of our house. These are the facilities that my kids and I visit almost daily, so I feel that I’m eminently qualified as a critic of these public spaces.
Furthermore, I submit that these types of playgrounds are prevalent everywhere. It’s probably not even worth mentioning what part of the country we live in. Let’s just say it’s Anytown, Southern California, USA.
In the following critique of these purely inanimate geographical entities, I may mention the humans who frequent them. This is only to provide some insight as to how their design works, or fails to work, within the communities in which they are located. I have changed the names of the playgrounds, not so much to protect their identities, as to emphasize their universality.
5 Playgrounds
Almost Gentrified Field
Description: This modest playground features one main play structure, a swingset, a couple randomly scattered concrete animals, and one of those horsies mounted on a leaf spring from a Mack truck, that no person under 200 lbs. can budge in any direction.
Who goes there: Anyone who lives within walking distance. Organic earth-mamas who carry their offspring in hempen Ergos and squirt breast milk into their mouths while pushing them on the swings. Unattended feral children who cover the slides in mulch, camouflage the monkey bars with tree limbs, and carpet the ground with Hot Cheetos bags. Teenage parents who smoke weed while their toddlers eat dirt. Older stay-at-home dads who chat pleasantly with one another but don’t exchange email addresses or anything.
Hipster Haven
Description: Enough equipment to keep any kid from age 2-5 entertained. Three large play structures, multiple swing sets, sit-on-top bouncy stuff that kids can actually move.
Who goes there: 30-ish moms with big sunglasses and lots of tattoos. Kids named Atticus and Sadie. Stay-at-home dads who grunt in greeting to one another. Homeless guys who set up camp at the many nearby picnic tables and benches.
Concrete Jungle Gym
Description: Extensive variety of equipment. Elaborate play structures crafted to delight kids and their parents. Large open spaces with whimsical terrain features that kids can climb, run, and jump on. One of the best-designed playgrounds in the area. Abuts a de facto homeless camp/open air drug market/prostitution center/gang banger picnic area, and features garbage, half-eaten fast food meals, abandoned clothing and personal items.
Who goes there: A few intrepid families from the immediate neighborhood and even fewer families from the nearby almost-gentrified area. Also, lots of unconscious homeless guys, loafers, loiterers, winos, guys who drive hoopties with 20″ rims and smoke modified Swisher Sweets.
Yoga Pants Meadow
Description: A local gem, near the zoo and a complex of kid-friendly museums and other attractions. Almost an acre of equipment appropriate for all ages and styles of play. Bucolic, shady picnic area.
Who goes there: Stroller Striders. Nannies. Ebullient tourists from the Frozen North. Stay-at-home dads who eye one another suspiciously.
Sandy Shores
Description: Yoga Pants Meadow with an ocean view.
Who goes there: Young, pregnant military wives with toddlers. Botox moms. Nannies.
***
I’m correct in assuming that every city has all of these different kinds of playgrounds, right? It’s probably just like where you live.
About BetaDad
We have all kinds of playgrounds. Of course, the one closest to my house is the one nobody goes to, which makes my kids all sad and thus we have to go to one much further away that’s Nanny and Botox Moms Central.
Twitter Name: izzymom
My kids are still pretty happy with the nearby one, especially when no one else is there. It’s a little scary with all the feral children crashing around. We found a new secret playground just yesterday, though, and all the kids there were about their age. Seems perfect!
Big sunglasses: check.
Tat: check.
Daughter named “Sadie”: CHECK.
Wow. That was almost scary.
Twitter Name: robinobryant
Haha! If I were ten years younger and 28% cooler, I would be proud to be a hipster parent like you!
LOL… Check on the big sunglasses and tattoo too, and I have unusual names for my kids (I think Sadie is a cute name). My kids still think I’m a big dork.
Twitter Name: 30onmom
My oldest is only 6 so they all still think I”m pretty awesome. Gonna enjoy it while it lasts. I figure I’ve got at least 5 more minutes…
Twitter Name: robinobryant
My kids’ favorite park, which is 30 minutes away, is all those depending on the time of day.
Twitter Name: Im_Wendy
Good point. All of our parks have multiple personalities as well.
We have the children who are thugs playground, and the thug-free kids. Ah Florida. No botox or nannies anywhere.
Twitter Name: judihudek
Wow. I really have a poor understanding of Florida. Thought there would be plenty of Botox and nannies. Maybe I’m just thinking of Miami.
I have been to every one of these playgrounds. As a teenager I lived in Rosemead CA and had to walk through a drug dealers paradise to get to school. As a mom in CA, lived right down the street from a skate park where son #1 learned to skate board while I worked on lesson plans for my P-K class. Now we live in TX where I go to the local Mc Donald’s because it’s hot, cold, or humid outside. (p.s I almost named son #1 Atticus. Yikes)
Twitter Name: 30onmom
This was an extremely accurate description of the parks in our area while we lived in the city, except for the ocean thing since we live in Central Texas, but now that we live in the burbs we either have large empty parks that I like to pretend only belong to us. My boys are actually annoyed when more than one or two other families are there. They’re super friendly kids, I swear.
Hilarious summary though. Thanks for sharing!
Twitter Name: themommytherapy
Yeah–we like it when the park is empty too. Even though we’re not sociopaths. I swear.
Thanks for reading!
I am also in SoCal, so I recognize all of these playgrounds. Unfortunately, the only ones we have close by are Almost Gentrified and Hipster Heaven. Hitting a Yoga Pants Meadow would require driving to the fancy side.
I wish I had something to add to this, but I really don’t. We walk our kids to the zoo to play when we leave our backyard or cul-de-sac. I have a feeling the variations in San Diego are prettier than the few options we have in Atlanta anyway!
If we get the house we bid on, we’ll be .2 miles from the local high school and elementary school, so that’ll work for playgrounds just fine.
Twitter Name: themuskrat
Your assumption about all cities having different types of playgrounds is correct. Sound to me like you’ve got several good ones to choose from. I’ve got “watch out for the used condom” playground and “members of the international set mixed in with eco-moms and yoga fanatics but watch out for the dealers selling over there next to the subway and you can’t go potty in the public restroom because there are needles there.”
Great post.
Botox moms! Ha! Love it.
Twitter Name: csiracusa
The playground near our house features used condoms in the sandbox, lots of unconscious homeless dudes and a port-o-potty that you can smell from 300 yards away. Needless to say, there are no Botox Moms or nannies in our neighborhood.
Twitter Name: coolwhipmom