Jekyll & Hide & Seek

[Disclaimer: Some names and identifying details have been changed to protect the privacy of individuals]

The word ‘ought’ is a confusing word. It indicates a sense of correctness, but it is unclear who sets these standards that distinguish proper from improper. What a person perceives as ‘right’, in regards to either morality or accuracy, can obviously be highly subjective, yet from moment to moment and century to century, our societies function largely due to notions such as ‘ought’, which also leads us to establishing and accepting rules. A rule is merely an idea, one that is intended to inform how people ought to act in a particular circumstance or setting.

In her piece, Play as a Growth Process, Barbara Biber points out that play serves two purposes for children: Learning about the world by playing about it, and finding an outlet for complex emotions. Very often, comprehension of an abstract concept can only be achieved by experiencing the idea in real time. Whether it is under the guise of make-believe or not, children are afforded a chance to learn about life, and themselves, while engaging in play. These lessons are perhaps more likely to be digested cleanly during play than otherwise, as the pesky adult is often removed from a play scenario, allowing for thorough awareness and introspection to occur.

It was around 5pm on a Sunday in November when I, accompanied by my friends Erick and Casey, and their two-year-old daughter Melissa, entered The Kids’ Playroom in my building. This is a room into which I had never before ventured, and immediately upon wafting through the doorway, I regretted this fact. It was a paradise. A series of giant stuffed giraffes, multiple plush rhinoceroses and half a dozen miniature pigs with animated faces buttressed an indoor playground. As Melissa clung to her mother’s side, the four of us entered and made our way towards a bench, nestled against a nearby wall. The three adults sat in a row of retirement, and Melissa wandered off towards a rhino.

With her feet firmly planted and her right arm extended, Melissa decisively made physical contact with the rhino using the palm of her hand, though her gaze was not directly aimed at the beast that she was investigating. Instead, she observed a gentle giraffe in the distance, though her hand now lay firmly affixed to the left eyeball of her new rhino friend. She continued to pet the rhino before taking a quick step backwards, towards us and away from the animals, and tumbling to the ground. She immediately propped herself back up, spun 180 degrees and ran directly to her mom.

Then, a Stranger appeared. The somewhat larger girl waddled over to us, then approached Melissa directly, and without a hint of hesitation, declared, “We’re playing hide and seek and I’m going to find you after you count ok go hide.” Melissa stood still and stared at her mom, her previously animal-centered focus having been appropriated by this new character. The Stranger promptly ran to the other side of the room, did a slow-motion nosedive into the carpet, buried her face in her arms and presumably began counting. Melissa remained still, suddenly hypnotized by a particularly tactile ring on her mom’s finger.

The Stranger reemerged, and declared, “You’re supposed to hide ok I count to twelve and you hide and I seek. Ok do you want to play hide and seek?” As the Stranger swayed impatiently, Casey explained the premise of the proposed play program to her daughter. It certainly wasn’t Melissa’s first time playing Hide & Seek, but it is quite likely that the means of organization surrounding the game’s commencement had thrown her off. Melissa conveyed her acceptance of the game’s premise, and off went the Stranger for another round of face-buried number estimations.

Like a boxer presented with smelling salts, Melissa sprung to life and bolted for the opposite corner of the room. Predictably, she was a horrendous hider, and she simply lay down in front of one of the false giraffes, clearly in plain sight, with her hands covering her eyes. The Stranger soon emerged from her ostrich position and ran directly to where Melissa lay in a heap of unfortunate conspicuousness. “Ok found you!” screeched the Stranger, conveying a sense of pride in her properly functioning eyeballs. Melissa arose, perhaps a bit unsure of what exactly had just happened, but seemingly aware that a shift in the game was afoot.

A Mom appeared, presumably the Mom of the Stranger, and announced that now she would be the counter and both children should hide in tandem. Melissa stumbled from her standing position towards a centrally located trapezoidal chunk of plastic, and knelt beside it as the Mom rattled off consecutive integers. Melissa seemed confident in her choice of camouflage, and the Mom, when her counting had ceased, afforded Melissa the imagined reality that she in fact was well secluded. As the Mom made her way past Melissa, towards the other end of the room, Melissa rose from her kneeling position, giggling triumphantly. She again scurried back to her mother, and her participation in the game was over.

When we understand something, one way of conveying our successful comprehension is by declaring, “I get it.” At first glance, this appears to be a metaphorical application of the verb ‘get’, because we clearly do not literally ‘have’ or ‘hold’ an object upon acquiring an understanding of an idea. But wait…acquiring an understanding? Acquisition certainly seems to imply ‘having’, and it is through the somewhat mystical experience of perception that we do in fact take possession of an invisible, abstract entity, called knowledge. Thanks to evolutionarily enhanced survival skills, we instantly overlay our perceived knowledge with meaning. Whether we realize it or not, it is through this instantaneous process that we understand, or misunderstand, the physical world in which we live.

When Melissa first made contact with the rhinoceros, but did not fix her gaze upon it directly, she was using her sense of touch to take in data, a common preference for preoperative children. As Piaget has suggested, children at this age are capable of understanding symbolism, and can incorporate figurative representations into their perception of literal reality. Melissa, aware that the rhinoceros was not a ‘real’ rhinoceros by visual identification, attempted to not only assure herself of this fact by applying a second sense, touch, to the situation, but also wanted to interact with this imaginary figure in an amicable and intentional manner. This is play.

Vygotsky discusses perception, conveying the notion that we ingest sensory data in a general sense, not piece by piece. However, for young children, objects hold more significance than meaning, which is likely why Melissa was perhaps initially overwhelmed with the variety of play animals to the extent that she was unable to focus on just one at a time. How could she begin to apply meaning to the simulated rhino in the foreground when she was acutely aware of the stuffed giraffe awaiting her attention in the background? By simply touching the rhino, and simultaneously absorbing visual stimuli from the distant giraffe, Melissa was satisfying various needs, needs that, according to Vygotsky, may only be fulfilled during play. Melissa likely knew that the rhino was not a real rhino, otherwise she would not have approached it, and yet by engaging with it personally through touch she legitimized its authenticity as a physical entity in relation to her own definitive existence. Children understand themselves through understanding others, and during play, these attempts to gain such a pivotal comprehension feels less threatening.

When the Stranger approached, and casually lassoed Melissa into a game of Hide & Seek, the physical world became immediately enhanced, morphing into a social world. Social interactions are incredibly complex, as they require sophisticated levels of synchronized external comprehension and internal response engagement. In play, children are more likely to respond positively to social interactions, for a variety of reasons. Nancy King points out that not only is play voluntary, but it is also less standardized than other experiences that children have, amplifying these moments into rare opportunities for children to gain ownership and sovereignty. Barbara Biber echoes this sentiment, stating “Another important by-product of play is the feeling of strength it yields to the child, a relief from the powerlessness and helplessness that many children feel keenly as junior members of our well-ordered adult world.”

However, Melissa did not immediately accept the Stranger’s invitation to play. This is likely because Melissa’s perceptive tools were externalized at the moment, as she was taking in various stimuli throughout the room. However, by being approached by the Stranger, Melissa became a member of the room herself, and was suddenly expected to interact, not only perceive. As her mother explained the rules of Hide & Seek to Melissa, in a confident and calm fashion, Melissa consumed this assurance and accepted the Stranger’s invitation.

Hide & Seek has various emblematic interpretations in regards to its figurative implications. When secluded, our sense of self depreciates. Conversely, when we allow ourselves to become part of a whole, our sense of self is augmented. An object only can be viewed as a singular entity due to its parameters, and identities are no different. We understand ourselves by being understood by, and by understanding, others. In the game Hide & Seek, to Hide is to be invisible and illegitimated, and to be found is to be recognized and validated. Just like in a dream, all members of the game in which we’re playing actually symbolize us. When we Seek, it is for ourselves that we are searching, and when we are found, or when we find others, it is ourselves that have become substantiated.

During Melissa’s first Hiding experience, she sought solace in the shadow of a false deity, a stuffed giraffe, and simply covered her eyes. This clichéd attempt at hiding is a pure example of egocentricism, during which the child believes that her experience is the universal experience of all. To the two-year-old Melissa, if she cannot see, then she cannot be seen. As false as this premise is in reality, in regards to identity, she may actually be onto something.

As Biber describes, play allows children to learn about the world, and express complex emotions. Playing is just as much an emotional experience as it is a logical one, and a child’s ability to feel safe while learning about the world (an inherently perilous experience, as all learning necessitates vulnerability and risk) is constantly tested during play. All forms of play involve an element of danger, which is, of course, part of the fun.

The etymology of ‘fun’ exposes it to be a recent bit of language, born in the 1680s, when its meaning was “a cheat; a hoax,” as it was related to the Middle English word fonnen (which became ‘fond’ in modern English), meaning ‘befool’. And then, in 1727, the word ‘fun’ evolved to mean ‘diversion, or amusement.’ The Latin word divertir meant “to distract” and “to entertain,” as well as “to convince not to try or do.”To convince not to try or do what? A diversion from what?

While it is fair to assume that most children are not actively considering death while playing, our minds and bodies are always aware that survival is the number one goal of every moment. When children play, they are given an opportunity to suspend their belief in the gravity of that which is real. This is called pretending. While engaging in pretending of any kind, we are actually intuitively pretending that death does not exist. Perhaps ‘recreation’ is actually re-creation? Experiencing fun is just as necessary a component of our makeup as is our drive to eat, sleep, procreate and survive in general. We like pretending, and having fun, because it helps keep our minds farther from death, and closer to life.

The rule of life is to promote survival of the self, and survival of the species. The rule of play is essentially the same – manufacture a victory for yourself, without dismantling the fragile structure of the game in the process. Prior to her mom explaining the rules of Hide & Seeks, which seemed to serve the purpose of reassurance, not inaugural understanding, Melissa could not allow herself to participate in the game with conviction. Once she felt ownership of the rules, she was able to formulate a plan for how to integrate herself into the larger system at play. Vygotsky points out that every perception is a stimulus to activity.When the stimulus seemed daunting to Melissa, whether it was an inordinate amount of fluffy animals or an invitation to join in a game prior to her nervous system accepting her participation, her actions were deferential and docile. But when provided with limited and definitive rules and structure, invincibility replaced invisibility, prompting her to act with more assuredness. As this was the case in play for Melissa, as Vygotsky points out, it will likely also be the case in reality. The primary difference is that in play, Melissa’s attention was affixed towards meaning, whereas in life it is action that dwells at the nucleus of a given moment.

It was early in my career as a tutor that I learned the unparalleled power of the word ‘game’. Sugar, magic tricks, and embarrassing personal anecdotes all cower in the face of the word ‘game’, as it is my most potent tool for diverting a student’s attention away from an otherwise unpalatable moment. The majority of my students are teenagers, persistently practicing the art of ‘being cool’, yet when I announce, “Now we’re going to play a game,” the results with these miniature adults is nearly identical to those of my students whose ages remain in the single digits.

I play games with students for a variety of reasons. Nearly every initial session with a new student involves at least two games, as I view the atmosphere of play as a natural and comfortable one upon which a rapport can be built. It provides us both with an opportunity to reveal ourselves in front of this new person, with the safety net of fun and competition holding us securely in place all the while. Most of the games I play with my students involve an academic element of some kind, so of course there are enrichment components at play during the majority of our games. But the real reason we play is to enhance the richness of our work once the game has ended.

The average teenager is awake for approximately 100 hours every week, which means that the majority of my students spend about 1% of their waking hours with me. In order for our hour to impact the remaining 99 hours, I have to be somewhat savvy in my efforts. Just because I have a meaningful message to impart, as well as an effective manner of delivery, does not ensure that it will be sufficiently received. I am the pilot, the airplane and the landing signal officer, and if I want my cargo to arrive safely, all features of the journey need to be considered before takeoff. Play, in many respects, helps clear the runway and ensures that my shipment will be adequately obtained by its intended recipient.

It’s one thing to say to a student, “You are secure here. Feel free to be yourself, to allow yourself the freedom to fail, and don’t be afraid to have fun.” It’s another for these sentiments to arise organically, and for a student to believe these notions from the inside out. My ability to plant the necessary seed of comfort, trust and safety is highly increased due to the games I play with my students. Also, sometimes I lose. And is there anything more satisfying for a student than to beat the teacher? Maybe playing with plush rhinos. They’re so soft.

Sources Cited

1. Biber, B. (1984). Play as a growth process. In B. Biber (Ed.) Early education and psychological development.New Haven: Yale University Press.

2. King, N. (1979) Play: the kindergartner’s perspective. In Elementary School Journal 3.

3. Vygotsky, L. (1978). Mind in Society.Cambridge: Harvard University Press. Chapter 7, The Role of Play in Development.

4. www.etymonline.com