Playgrounds, Papers, and Missed Opportunities

In “Playgrounds, Papers, and Missed Opportunities,” I examine what playgrounds can teach museums about creativity, openness, and public space. The piece considers how play and potential can shape more engaging, people-focused museum experiences.

Originally published on my LinkedIn.

In 2018, Boston’s Logan Airport opened a children’s literature-themed kids’ play space. With colorful graphics and some climbing structures, it highlights some of the famous children’s literature that hails from Massachusetts. Seven years later, the space feels outdated and a little worn around the edges. And, if I may say so, it’s missing some heavy hitters—children’s book illustrator and author extraordinaire Ed Emberley, along with Peter Laird and Kevin Eastman, best known for creating the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. While the space could and should be much better, it’s still there. I was glad to find it while waiting for a flight with my family, not too long ago. My son made full use of the stylized book-shaped structures to climb.

Like many places, the focus on children often reads as an afterthought, which might be understandable for an airport because it’s ultimately an adult space—one that’s busy, crowded, and where safety and security are top priorities. Yet, airports are highly aware of the variety of needs, demands, and wants of those flying and spending time in their spaces, including the individuals who work there. I had been thinking about the kids’ space at Logan Airport when I perused the New York Times from August 31. I was immediately delighted that the Sunday paper included a favorite section of mine, the New York Times for Kids, but I quickly became disappointed when I started reading it.

For the uninitiated, the New York Times for Kids started in 2017 and has published about 100 issues since then. Each issue is kid-focused, designed, inspired, and most importantly, informed by kids. Every issue is a keepsake, featuring the best artists and illustrators, leading writers, and most importantly, the voices of hundreds, maybe thousands, of kids. Take, for example, their final edition. Some of the stories included were about detecting misinformation, expanding voting rights to 16 and 17-year-olds, the decline in public school attendance and its impact, tariffs, a list of the twelve most important stories that Times writers are following, and much more. These stories are alongside games, profiles, coloring activities, multiple how-to articles, impressive art, and content squeezed into nearly every available space.

For me, the section was often the best of the paper. Each issue was unique, exploring the widest and most interesting array of topics—important topics, funny topics—in the simplest of manners, without dumbing down or dismissing the intelligence of kids. Fans of the section know that each cover clearly conveys the Editor’s warning in all caps that “THIS SECTION SHOULD NOT BE READ BY GROWN-UPS.” Yet, despite such clear instructions, I read every section and often encouraged other grown-ups to do the same. And, as a parent, I was excited for the future when I could share the Times for Kids with my child.

Which is why I’m dismayed, despite its fans and accolades, the August 31 issue is its last. In their words, “Attention NYT Kids readers! We’ve got some good news, and some sad news. First, the sad. This is the last-ever print issue of The New York Times for Kids. That’s right: After eight years and nearly 100 issues, the print section is coming to an end. (Sniff!)” This is more than a “sniff,” it’s a wail.

Mark Wilson, in his Fast Company article “The ‘New York Times’ Is So, So Stupid for Killing Its Kids Section,” writes, “The decision to kill a rare, analog piece of publishing—in an era when parents are looking for resources for their children to unplug—seems remarkably short-sighted.” I have to agree with Mark. Parents are looking for these resources. So are teachers, homeschool families, and yes, even museum professionals—me included. And I’d argue that the section offered valuable real estate for its writers, providing an alternative space to share their work with a younger audience.

As for the rationale, The Times offered up the following in their Times Insider section, “After eight years in print, the final edition of the Kids section appears in Sunday’s newspaper. The Times Magazine, which has housed the project, is undergoing a digital redesign and expansion and is shifting its priorities in order to realize this vision.” All of which is fine and often necessary, but how does this relate to kids and parents looking for such content? In another article from around the same period, the Times writes about the great lengths that Tanglewood, the 87-year-old summer home of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, is going to attract, but also engage children and their parents. Or, the papers continued coverage of Luddite Clubs, where teens espouse technology and social media-free lives.

When I was a parent of an infant, I often found it surprising that the same aisles selling pacifiers also sold pretend phones—phones meant for teething and pretend phones for play. Experiences like that made me realize how common screens are in children’s lives and how often they are included in kids’ spaces and environments designs. The kids’ area at the local car dealership has a colorful rug, some toys, and a few discarded books, all arranged around a television. The same applies to children’s dentists and doctors’ offices. It also holds true for family-friendly restaurants. It’s not just local businesses and the medical community; it seems everyone with a child depends on screens. I understand, I’ve been through it; it’s simple and effective. Even when you try not to use a phone or device, the parent next to you suggests that you do, even sharing what program their kid enjoys most.

Which brings us back to Logan’s kids’ space. The fact that they have a dedicated area is fantastic, and judging by the wear on the structures, it’s been well-used. That’s why we need not only more kids’ spaces but also better ones—spaces where children can play, jump, climb, explore, learn, discover, and even read a print edition of the New York Times. Spaces designed for kids that celebrate their presence. Areas that provide opportunities for parents to play and learn with their children, while also offering time and space for themselves. For museums and cultural centers, it means celebrating and embracing our wonderful children’s museums and encouraging adult museums also to embrace their kids’ spaces, and see them for what they are as valued, needed, and essential spaces for children and their caregivers. This shift involves moving from traditional drop-in studios with limited activities to hybrid models of learning, exploring, playing, and making. It combines the best features of children’s play areas, with slides and climbing structures, with our drop-in studios, where art making, science experiments, and reading are offered, along with artworks and objects—yes, our collections. Spaces like this are not only easy to imagine but also essential and would be appreciated by our youngest visitors and their grown-ups. And, picture this: the next time you’re visiting a museum with family in tow, you’ll be able to spend time in such a space where not only your child feels welcome, but you also feel engaged, with coffee in hand and a smile on your face, knowing the trip was worth it.

Special thanks to Keira Hamilton for reading and editorial support.

Follow me on Instagram, LinkedIn and Patron View for more.