There was a vacant lot on the corner of 10th Street and Avenue H. I learned to play there, meeting up daily with other children in the neighborhood after school. There is something irreplaceable about unsupervised play; many lessons are learned. We played seasonally, football in the fall, baseball and softball in the spring and summer. There were unspoken rules on the playground, fair play heading the list. If someone started playing unfairly, they were excluded. All sizes and all skill levels could play and we adapted our games so that they were honest. No one cried. There were leaders and there were followers; we all knew our place. As darkness arrived, we headed home; our parents were not worried.

We also created games, some requiring unique skills and rules. We created games dependent on how many players we had. Softball for seven? Football for nine? No problem. What we didn’t realize, other than the fact that we were having fun, is that we were developing all the skills (running, throwing, catching, jumping) one needs for physical literacy, the skills one needs to play other games. We developed agility, the ability to adapt to one’s competition, strategy.

No one drove us to the lot, we either walked or biked. Parents were never there. Safety was ignored; a concrete block was our home plate. There was the occasional injury, but most just required a Band-Aid. Batting helmets didn’t exist; neither did bike helmets. Because we changed games throughout, there were no overuse injuries, the most common injury for today’s youth. We had the good sense not to do the exact thing over and over. How much fun is that?

On the weekend I learned courage. There was a field behind the elementary school where a big group of boys, some older, met to play full tackle football. No helmets or pads, jeans, T-shirts, and tennis shoes were the attire. Several of my friends went. I was afraid and fear is unpleasant, but I finally made the trip. The game was rugged; tackling a full speed runner can hurt. There were no concussions; only a fool would tackle head first. When you overcome fear there is triumph, a feeling of success, competence. I learned the joy of intense play, that pain and discomfort is short lived; not having the courage to play lasts longer.

Some have said that courage is the first of human qualities because it is the quality which guarantees all others. Children need the will to continue, to get up when knocked down. Courage allows children to take healthy risks, to get up, to stand up for what is right, to be independent. There are many ways to learn courage and the playground is a good start. Courage doesn’t require super powers, special strengths, or looks. Courage doesn’t just happen; it is a decision.

Winston Churchill believed we need courage to stand up, but we also need courage to stop and listen. In every school I have taught, the administrators want all their graduates to be leaders. Really? There’s not enough room for that many leaders. Imagine a sports team where everyone was a leader — chaos. Playing sports develops leaders but also followers. On the playground there are always kids who will lead and those who follow. It seems natural. Ken was the leader I will never forget, the quarterback of my high school team when I was a sophomore. I was one of two sophomores on the team and I knew my place. We were supposed to have a good team and started the season with optimism. We lost nine games in a row; the coaches had no idea what to do except to blame us for everything. The 10th and final game came around and the other team was heavily favored. Ken held a team meeting (no coaches allowed). He said, “I’m coaching the team. I’ll call all the plays.” We won! Leadership counted and what the quarterback did required a lot of courage.

Recent studies report on the increased loneliness in children. Yes, we know children are safe when in their bedrooms, but is that what we want? Children need to learn to play directly with other children, not through the web or virtual play but face to face. Direct interaction requires children to solve problems and to be creative. Actions have consequences on the playground. While the vacant lot is gone, backyards and parks are still here.

Jim Johnson is a retired professor of exercise and sport science after teaching 52 years at Smith College and Washington University in St. Louis. He comments about sport, exercise, and sports medicine. He can be reached at jjohnson@smith.edu.