Why Free Play and Risk Are Essential to Childhood
I’ve been in the youth development field for over 30 years, and if there’s one truth that keeps showing up again and again, it’s this: kids need to play. Not just structured play. Not just enrichment activities, sports leagues, or afterschool clubs. I’m talking about real, unstructured, child-led free play—the kind where kids lose track of time, scrape a knee, get into arguments, build a fort out of trash, or climb a tree a little higher than we’d like.
Free play matters. And it matters more now than ever before.
If you’ve read anything by Dr. Peter Gray, (TedEx) especially his work on the decline of play and the rise of anxiety and depression in children, you’ll know where I’m headed. His research shows a direct line between reduced opportunities for free play and the mental health struggles we see in our youth today. That decline, as outlined in his book Free to Learn, has been replaced by well-meaning adult-led programming and constant supervision—but at a cost. We’re seeing less resilience, more anxiety, and a generation that’s growing up with fewer coping tools to handle life’s messiness.
Jonathan Haidt’s new book The Anxious Generation echoes this call. It’s a wake-up call for all of us—especially those of us in youth development. Haidt doesn’t just talk about screen time or helicopter parenting; he points to the removal of real-world childhood experiences like walking to a friend’s house alone, negotiating playground politics without adult interference, or learning how to handle pain (both emotional and physical) without a safety net at every turn.
Here’s the tough truth: By stripping away risk, we’ve unintentionally stripped away resilience.
As professionals, we often find ourselves caught between policy and practice. There’s an unspoken pressure to bubble-wrap childhood—to avoid complaints from parents, to reduce liability, to never let a child feel anything remotely uncomfortable. But here’s the thing: discomfort is a teacher. Scraped knees heal. Hurt feelings mend. But the skills learned from those moments—the ability to self-regulate, to advocate, to recover—those are what shape capable, confident, and compassionate adults.
We have to reclaim free play for kids. And we have to train our staff to see the power in it.
Let’s start with what free play really is: it’s child-initiated, open-ended, and self-directed. It isn’t scheduled or structured. It’s not about outcomes or metrics. It’s about kids being kids—imaginative, wild, sometimes chaotic kids. It’s about cardboard boxes becoming castles and soccer balls becoming currency in an invented game that only the kids understand. In these spaces, children develop the executive function skills we try so hard to teach them in a classroom: decision-making, impulse control, collaboration, creativity, conflict resolution, and empathy.
But here’s the kicker: it only works if adults back off.
That’s where the challenge comes in. As youth development professionals, we want to help. We want to mediate, support, and guide. But sometimes, the most supportive thing we can do is observe, not intervene. Unless a child is in real, imminent danger, we need to give them the space to figure it out. Let them argue. Let them feel left out. Let them solve it. Let them climb the monkey bars upside down and misjudge the distance to the ground. Let them cry, brush off the dirt, and get back to playing.
We don’t build confident, emotionally intelligent adults by solving every problem for them as children. We build them by giving them chances to practice being human.
It’s okay for kids to get mad at each other. It’s okay for kids to take physical risks. It’s okay for kids to push back on rules and norms—they’re learning how to navigate the world. And yes, it’s even okay for them to get hurt sometimes.
These aren’t signs of dysfunction. These are signs of development.
We talk a lot in our field about creating “Happy, Healthy & Safe” environments. But those three things are often misunderstood as meaning “comfortable, clean, and conflict-free.” That’s not real childhood. Real childhood is messy. It’s emotional. It’s physical. And if we want truly happy, healthy, and safe adults, we need to let kids experience the world fully while they’re still young enough to process it with a sense of wonder, not fear.
So what can we do?