The rush to judgement: Mapping moral geographies of the primary school playground

Introduction

A proportion of a teacher’s work in Australian primary schools is playground supervision during lunch and recess breaks in the school day. Chancellor’s (2013) study found that in 98.4% of schools, all teachers undertake an equal amount of playground supervision (yard duty), as it is commonly known, and in previous research they describe it as something they could do without (Chancellor, 2009; Evans, 2003). Thompson (2014) noted that ‘broadly speaking, due to its sometimes chaotic, purposeless and occasionally risky nature, adults perceive children’s breaktime supervision as a time of anxiety and stress’ (p. 6). With 55.4% of schools having an afternoon recess break and 97% having a teacher on playground supervision before and after school, the amount of supervision a teacher is rostered to do can be a considerable percentage of their working day (Chancellor, 2013). Horton and Kraftl (2006) suggest that too much of what we do as observers is ignored because behaviours seem too mundane, too obvious, too pointless or too insignificant to write about, explain or even think about (p. 71). As the playground supervisory roles of adults can have an impact on children’s health and wellbeing (Hyndman and Telford, 2015), uncovering the impact of interactions between teachers and schoolchildren’s play reveals moral geographies worthy of investigation.

Pike and Kelly (2014) describe the school setting as

An assemblage consisting of, among other things: time zones and governable spaces; a less than ideal history, present and future; an array of actants (human and non-human) with complimentary and often competing interest; a historically informed, sometimes shifting, but always limited range of ways to imagine the purposes of schooling; and a contingent and limited set of technologies with which to make things happen, to meet these purposes (p. 106).

It is fair to say that most primary schools in Australia value recess breaks in the school day and continue to provide them for children and teachers (Hyndman, 2015). Pellegrini (2008) notes that ‘breaks during the school day, like breaks from work on the factory assemble lines, have existed for nearly as long as each of those institutions has existed’. American play researcher Joe Frost believes

If historical and research evidence for children’s play, playgrounds and recess were taken seriously by adults, threats to their existence would soon be over. History and a century of scholarly research say that play is essential for healthy development. We must have playgrounds, free outdoor play and recess because they matter, for children’s health, for their development and for their future (Frost, 2008).

The United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child (UNCRC) recognises in Article 31 ‘the right of the child to engage in play’ (United Nations (UN), 1989). In Australia, federal, state and territory governments have acknowledged that children in the early years of life mostly learn what they need to know through play experiences. A national Early Years Learning Framework was introduced in 2009 and has a play-based focus, and each state and territory has built upon this to develop individual curriculum frameworks (Chancellor, 2013). The introduction of the Victorian Early Years Learning and Development Framework (VEYLDF) in 2011, applicable to students up to 8 years of age, means that Victorian primary schools are now required to address play-based learning in their curriculum design (Chancellor, 2013). Schools have addressed this in a range of ways, many related to the learning occurring in the playground (Hyndman et al., 2014). In 72.3% of schools, teachers discuss the playground as a learning place, and when asked how teachers would describe the learning that occurs in the playground, 88.9% listed social skills, 80.2% environmental understandings, 89.2% fitness, 95.7% sport skills and 96.6% physical development (Chancellor, 2013). In 99.4% of schools, teachers conduct formal lessons in the playground, including physical education, sports, maths, science, geography, environmental education, art, dance, music, bike education, reading, and real-life learning, such as measurement, creative play and gardening (Chancellor, 2013).

Many examples of teachers taking classes in the playground were found, but the values of children’s free play during recess breaks were less understood with no schools mentioning play in the playground as a time when children learn (Chancellor, 2013). There is a body of scholarly research from diverse fields that illustrates the many benefits of free outdoor play to children’s learning across a range of developmental areas. Valentine and McKendrick (1997) point out that ‘the geographical literature on children has emphasised the importance of play to children’s quality of life and to their geographical and social development …’ (p. 223). Play Australia (PA), a charitable, key national organisation operating for over 100 years, aims to promote the value of play and inspire active healthy outdoor play opportunities that are accessible to all. The PA Play Charter states that play is essential to the health, development and wellbeing of children; there is a need to raise awareness of the importance and essential role of play; risk and challenge through play are important experiences (PA, 2015).

The International Play Association (IPA) describes the importance of play based upon scholarly research from over 20 years and, importantly, lists outcomes for humans of play deprivation, that the drive to play is innate, a process that has evolved due to the advantages for the development of bodies, relationships and minds (IPA, 2014):

Thompson (2014) notes that research undertaken in the field of playwork makes clear links to how professional well-trained adults can enhance play opportunities, arguing that a ‘balanced middle course has to be taken between a very low level of involvement and a high level of interference’ (p. 6). Frost believes that teachers who are today responsible for play supervision would benefit greatly from play leadership training as was once a practice in the United States and reflects on the growth of play leader training programmes that grew out of the European adventure playground movement that have over recent years disappeared (Frost in Chancellor, 2013). Smith (2010) comments that with more adult structuring of, the more removed we get from true play and the more scope there is for manipulating activities in the interests of adults: ‘We should bear in mind that children enjoy and probably get benefits from the kinds of play that adults do not prefer’ (p. 197). The profession of playwork is a well-developed field in the United Kingdom where practitioners can study a range of qualifications at award, certificate/diploma and foundation degrees at university below honours level (McKendrick et al., 2014).

In Australia, primary school teachers often do not receive education related to play theories unless they have undertaken early childhood studies as part of their teaching degree (an option offered by some Australian universities). Playwork practitioner training is not officially recognised in Australia in the same ways it is in the United Kingdom (Kraftl et al., 2012). Consequently, teachers supervising in Australian primary school playgrounds will make judgements of the play they observe based on school playground rules and subjective assessments (Hyndman and Telford, 2015). Thompson (2014) found that there was ‘a clear division in what staff saw as good or bad play, and they policed play constantly to determine the difference and to enforce the rules of what they saw, from their perspective, as suitable or unsuitable play’ (p. 10).

Methodology

The two studies described below inform this article, which is a critical discussion of the interaction between supervising teachers and children in the playground, bringing considerations of the moral geographies that map onto playgrounds and the resulting impacts on ways children play. This was not an aim of either original study but is now being discussed by the two chief investigators as a way of prompting primary school teachers to critically engage with what children are playing during recess breaks in order to better inform their decisions and resulting interactions during yard duty. It also creates opportunity for schools to reconsider playground rules in relation to how different types of play are viewed and either supported or banned.

The first study (Chancellor, 2013) measured playground features and management across 350 primary schools in the state of Victoria, and the second study (Hyndman et al., 2014) compared and closely examined children’s play by applying multiple measures in two Victorian primary schools over 2.5 years. This provides both a broad statistical picture and a closer view of children’s play behaviours.

In Chancellor’s (2013) study, the respondents were evenly split by location: rural 50.2% and urban 49.8%; student enrolment, 52% more than 200 students and 48% fewer than 200 students; and age of school, 59% built more than 50 years ago and the others built more recently with 6.2% less than 10 years old. The study aimed at investigating practical ways individual school policy is impacting playgrounds in the areas of playspace design, play equipment, rules and supervision of children during recess breaks. A series of multiple choice and short answer responses were analysed around a set of emerging themes that are related to playground design and management. School principals were asked to specifically respond to questions relating to physical features of playgrounds, including sporting facilities, fixed and loose equipment, surfaces, shading and natural features; when and by whom are playgrounds are used; ways playground policies are formulated and enforced; how play is viewed by teachers; types of learning teachers believe occur in the playground while children play; ways the playground is used as a teaching resource by teachers; developments that have occurred in playgrounds in the last year and in the last 5 years; and ways these have been funded and maintained and problems identified by schools that relate to the playground. Many respondents gave detailed narratives when given the opportunity.

The second Australian study called the Lunchtime Enjoyment Activity and Play (LEAP) loose parts school playground intervention aimed to examine the effects of the intervention on children’s quality of life, enjoyment and participation in playground activities (Hyndman et al., 2014). The first part of the study consisted of measuring the effects of introducing loose parts on primary schoolchildren within an intervention school (n = 123) and a matched control school (n = 152) at baseline (0 weeks), a post-test (7 weeks) and a follow-up data collection phase (8 months; Hyndman et al., 2014). Children’s playground activities were evaluated using a combination of pedometers and direct observation (system for observing play and leisure activity in youth (SOPLAY)). Quality of life, enjoyment of physical activity and enjoyment of lunchtime activities were assessed in a sub-sample of 8- to12-year-old children (Hyndman et al., 2014). The second part of the study was a process evaluation of the LEAP school playground intervention to gauge the translatability and feasibility of implementing a loose parts school playground in other primary school settings. Data were collected using a mixed-methods approach at the LEAP intervention school, which included a teacher focus group interview after 9 months and direct observations over 2.5 years after the commencement of the intervention (Hyndman et al., 2014). Descriptive accounts of the LEAP intervention during the course of collecting or reflecting on the data were also recorded via field notes (Bogdan and Biklen, 1998; Morse, 1994). The field notes were used to complement the objective and self-report instruments by recording what could be seen, heard, experienced and thought of (Bogdan and Biklen, 1998; Morse, 1994) during children’s engagement with the loose parts playground. The investigators reduced having any influence on the setting by positioning in unobtrusive positions along the boundary of the school playgrounds and randomly recording children’s playground behaviour (Morse, 1994).

In this article, our discussions use critical analysis as described by Kraftl et al. (2012), meaning that there is an

Underlying concern with the mutually constitutive role of space and place in power relations, discourses and social injustices … how particular spaces and geographical contexts can effectively (re)produce particular power relations and inequalities; how particular social and political practices produce certain spatialities and are lived-out in everyday spaces; and how discourses are central to all of this (p. 13).

Both authors are bringing to discussion, in this article, understandings of the intrinsic nature of play and a belief in the importance of play outdoors for the health and wellbeing of children. We are both trained and experienced primary school teachers who now work as academics in Australian universities in teacher education.

We are interested in the concept of space which is considered as the conduit and locus of power which is strategically manipulated in the interests of the powerful (usually the nation-state or transnational capital) through spatial architectures and changes in the built environment (Kraftl et al., 2012). Thinking about the concept of space in these ways in relation to design of school playgrounds and positioning of equipment raises questions for schools to consider related to control of children. In Australia, governments have not shown an interest in school playgrounds, focusing all education policies on classroom activities and outcomes. Curriculum documents provide detailed guidelines on all aspects relating to lesson planning, pedagogical approaches and assessment practices. Ratios of teachers to pupils are regulated, including the time spent focusing on particular areas of the curriculum, such as literacy and numeracy. There are no such guidelines for the design and management of playgrounds, which is left to individual schools (Chancellor, 2013).

Pike and Kelly (2014), in their discussion of ethics and morals as social constructs, recognise and work with the ideas that ambiguity, complexity, argument, debate, polemic judgement, critique and commentary are inevitable, always-already and constitutive of moral geographies. These moral geographies are created through cultural, economic, social, political and spatial dimensions of the choices made by teachers supervising children in the playground. Decisions about where children should play, their health, wellbeing and morality became increasingly important ways of seeing the interaction between supervising teachers and children. Fielding (in Hemming, 2007) describes the school as a hot bed of moral geographies – of moral codes about when and where children ought to learn and behave (p. 364).

In Australia, schools formulate their own playground rules, Chancellor’s (2013) study found that 90.9% of schools have playground rules, and in 93.7% of schools, rules would be changed after consultation with children and teachers after an accident or injury in the playground (62.0%), when requested by children (34.0%), when requested by teachers (45.0%) or when requested by parents (33.3%). When children break playground rules, the consequence is always to stop their play … they are required to walk around the playground with the teacher on duty, sit in a designated place for a period of time or in 53.4% of schools, they may be sent indoors (Chancellor, 2013). It has been reported that when schoolchildren are bored, it will cause school playground rules to not be followed and the occurrence of reckless behaviour (Hyndman and Telford, 2015). The exact nature of such school playground rules is determined at the local school level, illustrating the beliefs of a particular school community. Pike and Kelly (2014) note that by looking at governmentality, we can see more clearly how society, at a given time, see themselves and what their aspirations are.

Thompson (2014) describes findings from her research that show

For a number of often well-intentioned reasons, teachers and others were catalysts in transforming children’s spontaneous natural play into what I termed circumscribed play … bound by rules, regulations and anxieties, and orchestrated in order to suit the desires of the teachers and the outcomes of the institution (p. 10).

Pike and Kelly (2014) describe schools as complex assemblages, governable spaces in which children and young people’s bodies are regulated through a series of socio-spatial strategies and practices that seek to produce normative identities and govern children’s bodies according to an existing array of social norms (p. 101). In this article, we discuss aspects of the previously mentioned studies through the lens described by Pike and Kelly (2014). The article is also underpinned by Thompson’s (2014) categories of ‘circumscribed’ play (play that is too risky, unhygienic, worthwhile, an obsession, violent/aggressive and good play). Throughout this scholarly discussion, the reader is asked to consider the following questions developed from Pike and Kelly’s (2014) description of schools as governable spaces:

At an individual school level, the questions above have implications for schools as an opportunity to evaluate the design and management of school playgrounds, strategies and practices to optimise primary schoolchildren’s health and wellbeing. The following headings are drawn from Thompson’s (2014) study and used as a way of categorising data from both Chancellor’s (2013) and Hyndman et al.’s (2014) previous work.

Spatial architectures

Horton and Kraftl (2006) offer critique of the term space(s) and ask consideration of their attendant complexities, the subjective experience thereof and their perpetual dynamism (p. 86). Smith and Barker’s (2000) research highlighted that the constitution of place is fluid, temporary and negotiable, as different groups of children (e.g. boys and girls, children of different ages and from different ethnic groups) imbue places with different meanings and use space in ‘different ways’ (p. 330). Teachers supervising during recess breaks see these complexities played out as children reinvent space to suit their needs and teachers reassert boundaries for compliance purposes. Massey (in Hemming, 2007) describes how space is constantly made and remade through embedded social practices and relations, so the institution as a social space is also continually in the process of ‘becoming’. Many schools allow supervising teachers to create rules when necessary (Chancellor, 2013), and this practice gives flexibility that allows boundaries to be pushed, sometimes enabling play and other times restricting it.

Rasmussan (2004) notes, ‘the uniformity of the school playground environment is striking more striking than the uniformity of ‘places for children’ found in home areas’ (p. 168). Most schools incorporate similar spaces and equipment into their school playgrounds, 93.2% of schools have sandpits; 94.4% have grassed areas for play; 71.5% have food gardens; 96.3% have fixed play equipment;75.9% paint playground markings for games; 74.6% have sheltered areas with seating; 90.0% of schools have asphalt areas; 75.8% have concrete areas; grassed areas are found in 91.3%; in 88.5% of schools, the main source of shade is trees; and 81.1% of schools have shade sails (Chancellor, 2013). Within Australian primary school playgrounds, males and females have been reported to have high enjoyment levels for playing on hard-surfaced areas (81.3% and 88.3% happy/very happy, respectively), using built facilities for play (85.9% and 82.5% happy/very happy, respectively), using natural features (70.1% and 84.2% happy/very happy, respectively) and playing on grassy areas (80.6% and 85.9% happy/very happy, respectively; Hyndman and Chancellor, 2015).

Rasmussan revealed that children indicate adult assumptions about school playgrounds are misguided. Children see a school playground as a ‘large place for children’ … adults have divided it up into different areas and zones … Not all places in a school playground seem to be legitimate places for children to inhabit; therefore, an environment made for children may allow children to establish interfaces between ‘children’s places’ and ‘places for children’ (Rasmussan, 2004: 168). Thompson (2007) reported, ‘The general perception of the playground is that it is not an adult space’. However, it is a space conceived by adults to contain children at school with each playground having prescriptive patterns of usage, designated according to the adults’ view of the children’s spatial desires and needs. Findings indicate that while playspace design is complex and should be dynamic, it appears to be largely the domain of adults (Hyndman et al., 2012). Planning playground improvements was undertaken in collaboration with the local community in 81.0% of schools, and in 24.7% of schools, a landscape architect was employed; not one response mentioned input from students (Chancellor, 2013). Maintaining a tidy playground can result in schools being concerned that too many loose parts or ‘over-providing’ of playground equipment can result in excess clutter, despite the potential engaging benefits for children (Hyndman et al., 2014).

Governmentality: regulation and resistance

The school playground is a governable space where fixed play equipment and demarked areas for games and other play activities are positioned for supervision purposes, facilitating socio-spatial strategies and practices by teachers on yard duty. While on yard duty, teachers commonly adapt playground rules to specific incidents they encounter, sometimes creating new rules on the spot to manage what they view as undesirable behaviours (Chancellor, 2009). Pike and Kelly (2014) refer to Foucault’s work on governmentality linking with ways in which young people are cajoled, directed, encouraged and rewarded to behave in certain ways (p. 9). Thomson (2007) also found that

Adults and agencies delimit the activities of and access to the playground. Through their control of children’s games and play in this space, they explicitly and implicitly use the space to mould children’s behaviour, to teach them what is acceptable and what is deviant (p. 76).

It has been revealed that school rules such as providing school uniforms that are not suitable for many playground activities (e.g. dresses, formal footwear), less time available for playground activities and a ‘no hat, no play’ policy can negatively influence children’s involvement in playground activities (Parrish et al., 2011). In the LEAP playground intervention study, children played in ways that were viewed as risky: examples are riding over sequential water cylinders on a hay bale, running around with a bucket or cardboard box on head difficult to see, running with broomsticks, wooden planks and other sticks (Hyndman et al., 2014). Thompson (2014) found ‘… children are not passive victims of this supervision process. They can be quite powerful opponents of disciplinary measures’ (p. 15). Pike (2010) talks of Foucauldian notions of power, which are not always coercive and negative but circulatory … contextual … fluid in nature … (p. 279).

Waite et al. (2013) describe outdoor play during recess breaks as supporting social interaction and nurturing emotional underpinning for social behaviour, arguing that in these ambiguous outdoor spaces, the cultures of school, home and society may collide but children have a chance to try out different ways of being. Australian play and folklore researcher June Factor (2004) found that ‘… school rules and regulations certainly limit and often frustrate children’s play’ (p. 148) as did Hyndman et al. (2014), who found that factors such as restrictive school rules could have a key influence on children’s enjoyment of school playground activities. Previous research has suggested that children tend to feel safe when their playground areas are being supervised, yet if there are too many teachers circulating the playground, children believe it will stifle or bore their playground activities (Hyndman et al., 2012).

Rasmussan (2004) argues that

The many meanings and kinds of ‘children’s places’ should make us aware of children as social and cultural actors who create places that are physical and symbolic and call attention to ‘the interfaces’ between adults’ understanding of what one can and should do in a place for children and children’s understanding of this matter (p. 171).

Henning (2007) discovered children could change the way the institution operated … as a result of their corporal practices of resistance and the alternative meanings, values and discourses they brought to school practices (p. 366). Commonly, children were revealed to negotiate their own playspaces within and between those allowed by the school in ways. Such negotiation of playspaces is described by Hemming (2007): ‘Through their bodily actions and expressions of emotion, children may reformulate regimes of discourses and values on their own terms’ (p. 355). Factor (2004) notes

Among the multiple relationships children establish between themselves and their playground environment [I] demonstrate the complexity of children’s play culture, the flexibility with which they manipulate the given and permitted, and the resourcefulness of their artful stratagems to outwit intrusive school rules (p. 143).

Pike (2010) refers to Foucault’s view of power as something not always coercive and negative but circulatory and the contextual and fluid nature of power relations with subjects capable of resistance in creative ways. This creative resistance by children is evident in playgrounds; June Factor (2004) describes ‘… the complexity of children’s play culture, the flexibility with which they manipulate the given and permitted, and the resourcefulness of their artful stratagems to outwit intrusive school rules’ (p. 143). Glenn et al. (2012) investigated meanings of play among young children and found that children had an unrestrained view of play – seeing opportunities to play almost anywhere and with almost anyone.

Factor (2004) noted that ‘features of the school playground never intended for play may be selected and stubbornly retained for a particular game, despite teachers’ disapproval’ (p. 147). Pike’s (2010) point that children by their actions are ‘destabilising dichotomous views that equate adults as powerful and children as powerless within the school’ (p. 276). Hemming (2007) also found that children’s personal decision-making processes destabilised some of the dominant ideologies that define children as incompetent and irresponsible in contrast to rational and knowledgeable adults (p. 363). When there is too much intrusion of adults into children’s play, it ‘takes away their [the children’s] element of ownership of playtime. It no longer belongs to them or is an intrinsic factor of their childhood’ (Thompson, 2014: 17).

Final reflections

In many instances, teachers on yard duty are required to quickly assess the play they observe and apply either school rules or their subjective assessment to decisions about what play is allowed to continue and what play is not. These decisions have far-reaching impacts on the health and wellbeing of the children being supervised. Pike and Kelly (2014) argue that

in these ongoing debates, this moral project of the self should be a central concern because it tells us much about how, at the start of the 21^st century, we imagine ourselves, who we are, what we should become … these hopes and aspirations are most often invested and embodied in the young people, that we parent, that we school, that we govern … (p. 191).

The rush to judgement characterises much of the topography of the playground where contours and lines of force make and remake these spaces. The socio-spatial strategies and practices reveal the underlying agendas and norms of a school institution. There is a tension between the children’s choice to play freely and the non-play agendas and concerns of the adults at school playtime (Thompson, 2014: 10). Horton and Kraftl (2006) note, the ‘everydayness’ of the everyday is often assumed and is left begging critique (p. 72). The impact of decisions made by teachers during playground supervision is an important area for future research and can have significant implications for the health and wellbeing of our next generation.