No Playground

Written and photographed by Sharmaine Mae Elan

Friday, March 13, 2015 – 9 years ago at Lāna‘i High & Elementary School (LHES)

The small grassy field for first and second graders, fronting the school cafeteria, echoed with the sounds of running, screaming and laughing. I joined in, racing aimlessly with my peers, our course around the area like a mapless cross-country marathon.

A little tired out but still driven by an inexhaustible desire for play, I headed onto the playground at the center of the field, a structure I remember seeming like a vast and vibrant castle. A line of kids were already at the monkey bars, waiting for a turn to channel their inner Tarzan. Watching them swing from bar to bar for a moment, I eventually turned and headed to the quieter spots I usually retreated to: the spiral pole, the large slide, and especially the narrow teal tunnel, where my friends and I would talk until the end of recess break.

Friday, March 15, 2024 – LHES, Present Day 

Talking with those same friends, now in our final years of high school, we recall our elementary days nostalgically, observing how the field remains green but the once sturdy and towering playground has vanished.

Earlier this school year, Goodfellow Bros., the construction company involved in the Hōkūao project, dismantled and removed the playground, charitably donating their time and resources. Hawai‘i’s Department of Education (DOE) had deemed the playground unsuitable and unsafe due to its rotting wood, rusting metal and damaged rubber surface. Before being taken down, the playground had been barricaded with plastic fencing and declared off-limits for several years. 

The elementary school schedule includes two recess periods, one in the morning and another post-lunch, offering ample time for play and social interaction. Now, with the absence of the playground, one might wonder how the children occupy themselves during these breaks.

On a recent visit to the elementary side of the LHES campus, just as the 2:00 p.m. bell announced the end of the school day, I observed the vacant lot where the playground once stood. The cafeteria hallway was dotted with parents waiting to pick up their children. Seizing the opportunity, I sought permission from a parent to interview their child, leading to a conversation with Levi Alcantara, an LHES first grader. Curious about how the kids enjoyed recess without a playground, I asked Levi. He replied that he spends time with his friends playing football and Bingo during recess, and despite the lack of a playground, he still enjoys it, especially when playing with toys such as Legos. “I still have fun at recess.” 

I also had the chance to interview Kia‘iola Medeiros, a second grader, who shared his perspective. He explained that even without traditional toys, they found enjoyment in playing with balls and inventing games like Shadow Tag. Curious about this game, I asked Kia‘iola for details. He said, “You know your shadow? The human that has it, they have to step onto their shadow.” From his explanation, I understood Shadow Tag as a game where players chase each other, trying to step on the shadow of the person who is “it” to tag them.

Speaking with an elementary teacher who asked to remain anonymous, they shared, “I find the students are able to entertain themselves without a playground. And I also enjoy the unstructured play. I think it helps with their social development, because they’re learning what games to play and how to make up their own little games.” 

This was an eye-opening perspective to me. The children didn’t seem anywhere near bothered about not having a playground. They’ve creatively devised various activities, using their imagination to stay engaged without the traditional playground setup like with Kia‘iola’s introduction of “Spies,” a game where they act as secret agents, spying on one another.

When I asked Levi what he hoped to see in a new playground, he shared, “I want to have swings. A seesaw.” He paused, then added, “I want to have a diamond. Yeah.” 

As for Kia‘iola, after I asked him the same question, he seemed to go into a blinkless trance. He tried to describe the playground he pictured in his head, saying, “You can go through something and swing down, down, up then down, and then this is the high place, and it goes down, and then down, and then it goes. It’s a slide tunnel. Yeah, make the slide that goes like this,” Kia‘iola gestured a wavy motion with his hand and continued, “If you’re in the place, like an under place you can play. There is a tackle. I also want one that you can enter a door.” I asked a clarifying question, “Like a house?” The young boy shook his head and corrected, “No, it’s open, but it’s like a door that you can open into.” I nodded, trying to grasp his imaginative vision, the puzzled expression plastered on my face clear to any observer.

While the children’s resilience and imaginative play without a traditional play structure is evident, the DOE has plans to install a new playground in the next school year between November 1, 2024, and March 31, 2025.

Wednesday, June 1, 2015 – the last week of 2nd grade

I hurried over the platforms and mounted each step. My movements were punctuated by a resonant “THUMP, THUMP, THUMP,” until I reached the tallest point of the playground. This was where I could see a panorama of the entire play area and surrounding grass field. I enjoyed coming to this point and rewarded myself with a slide down the slide or twirl down the spiraled-pole — over and over again. That is, until the day I chose to do something different.

Breaking from my endless loop of real-life Chutes and Ladders, I found myself at ground-zero again. Drawn by an unquenchable curiosity, I stepped towards the wooden bridge. Beyond it, the familiar line of kids waiting to swing on those baby blue monkey bars came into view.

Reaching the front of the line, my reluctance returned, I was afraid of not being able to make it over. This was the reason I avoided the monkey bars in the past. 

Yet, I did it anyway. 

I wrapped my fingers around the bar above me, lifted off from the platform, and swung from the first bar to the next, to the next, to the next… I was only able to reach the center before I dropped. I walked away in defeat, unable to do it, unable to reach the end. After that day, I never approached the monkey bars again. But now, as a young adult, oh how much I wish I could take on the bars once more, to prove to myself I could.