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Posted: July 30th, 2007 at 1:25am By: Rev. Kristi Denham
Louisiana Street was a small, winding back road in a 1950s suburban neighborhood. The houses were small, two-bedroom bungalows built after the war. The trees grew up with the additions to most of them. The lots were narrow. The back yards were big. The perfect place for returning GIs to settle down and start their families - middle class for as far as the eye could see.
I counted 32 children on the long little block where I lived. Parents sent us out to play in the morning, expected us back for lunch and again for dinner. We congregated in groups. The boys played cowboys and Indians and compared styles of dramatic dying. Girls played house and dolls and cornered an occasional boy to be the dad.
I liked to play Peter Pan. My younger sister had been named for Wendy in the book Mom was reading me when she was born. Mary Martin's television version had captured my imagination. My last name then was Martin too. She was my soul sister, certainly. And she could fly! Peter Pan could fly!
So I organized the neighbor kids to be lost boys and pirates, and we had all sorts of adventures. One little girl tried to fly off the swing set and bit down so hard on her tongue in the fall that she had to have stitches. Pixie dust and the requisite belief in one's ability to fly were clearly in short supply.
But magic was everywhere. Our playfulness inspired courage and friendships. Imagination strengthened our minds and allowed us to explore and to grow.
How did I manage to get all those kids to agree to play my game? Was it the persuasiveness of my suggestions? The sheer joy with which I proposed it? My stubborn determination? All of the above? Perhaps.
It makes me smile to remember those adventures. Certainly there were dark times in our play. Children can be mean. I vaguely remember being tied to a tree and left there for hours, powerless and scared. And I know for sure a boy I liked in the third grade deliberately disturbed a wasp nest I was near and sent me home covered in stings.
But childhood games for me, for the most part, were times to create adventures and draw new friends into the game. Was this the beginning of my leadership training? I hope so, because I still believe community is best served when its foundations and plans are built on playfulness, joy and the power of the imagination to create a better, more loving, more joyful world.
Peter Pan still inspires me. I won't grow up, at least not in the ways that tether the spirit and drain the soul. I've raised healthy sons and can handle my commitments with the best of them. But I still believe I can fly. I invite all of you to spread your wings and join me!
— — —
Rev. Kristi Denham is pastor of the Congregational Church of Belmont, California (United Church of Christ). Her email address is {email RevKristi@aol.com}RevKristi@aol.com{/email}. © copyright 2007 by Kristi Denham.
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Louisiana Street was a small, winding back road in a 1950s suburban neighborhood. The houses were small, two-bedroom bungalows built after the war. The trees grew up with the additions to most of them. The lots were narrow. The back yards were big. The perfect place for returning GIs to settle down and start their families - middle class for as far as the eye could see.
I counted 32 children on the long little block where I lived. Parents sent us out to play in the morning, expected us back for lunch and again for dinner. We congregated in groups. The boys played cowboys and Indians and compared styles of dramatic dying. Girls played house and dolls and cornered an occasional boy to be the dad.
I liked to play Peter Pan. My younger sister had been named for Wendy in the book Mom was reading me when she was born. Mary Martin's television version had captured my imagination. My last name then was Martin too. She was my soul sister, certainly. And she could fly! Peter Pan could fly!
So I organized the neighbor kids to be lost boys and pirates, and we had all sorts of adventures. One little girl tried to fly off the swing set and bit down so hard on her tongue in the fall that she had to have stitches. Pixie dust and the requisite belief in one's ability to fly were clearly in short supply.
But magic was everywhere. Our playfulness inspired courage and friendships. Imagination strengthened our minds and allowed us to explore and to grow.
How did I manage to get all those kids to agree to play my game? Was it the persuasiveness of my suggestions? The sheer joy with which I proposed it? My stubborn determination? All of the above? Perhaps.
It makes me smile to remember those adventures. Certainly there were dark times in our play. Children can be mean. I vaguely remember being tied to a tree and left there for hours, powerless and scared. And I know for sure a boy I liked in the third grade deliberately disturbed a wasp nest I was near and sent me home covered in stings.
But childhood games for me, for the most part, were times to create adventures and draw new friends into the game. Was this the beginning of my leadership training? I hope so, because I still believe community is best served when its foundations and plans are built on playfulness, joy and the power of the imagination to create a better, more loving, more joyful world.
Peter Pan still inspires me. I won't grow up, at least not in the ways that tether the spirit and drain the soul. I've raised healthy sons and can handle my commitments with the best of them. But I still believe I can fly. I invite all of you to spread your wings and join me!
— — —
Rev. Kristi Denham is pastor of the Congregational Church of Belmont, California (United Church of Christ). Her email address is {email RevKristi@aol.com}RevKristi@aol.com{/email}. © copyright 2007 by Kristi Denham.
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