Lisa Murphy - Play: The Foundation that Supports the House of Higher Learning

Necessity may be the mother of invention, but play is most certainly the father.

Roger von Oech

Copyright 2003, 2006, 2009 by Lisa Murphy

All rights reserved. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission of the publisher.

Published by

Ooey Gooey, Inc.

Rochester, New York

www.ooeygooey.com

ISBN # 978-1-6055437-6-5

Cover Design by Full Moon Advertising and Design

Inside Text Design by Andrew Curl

For my brother Tom.

I had something to say you helped me say it.

CONTENTS

Acknowledgements

My appreciation to everyone who helped me give clarity, proper spelling and better grammar to the long-winded, run-on sentence that was the rough draft, including Judy Fujawa, Carolyn Kori-Sanders, Sarah Teres and Tami Obermann-Pouey. I could not have done it without your red pens, edits and careful eyes. I thank you for giving your time to my project. Again.

To my grandparents, Tom and Dorothy Whitworth, for providing the quiet refuge in the mountains where I could finally find the time, peace and inner quiet to begin.

To my folks, Jim and Laura Griffen for providing me with a playful childhood filled with many amazing memories that are with me to this day.

To Miss Mary, Miss Gerry, Miss Nancy and all the other teachers from Marys Nursery School in Livermore, California I thank you for the gift of a play-based nursery school experience. Those early years have come to serve as a guide and model for what I am dedicated to creating for the next generation.

And, last but not least, to the love of my life Tom I love you way high to the moon.

One down, one to go

She opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. She was Miss Mary. My new teacher - my first teacher. She smiled as I scampered up the walkway to the front door. She bent down to my level and looked right at me. Come on in, she said, let me show you what we do here. She took my hand and we walked through the front door and into the world she created in that old house. So many things to do and see were waiting just for me.

The living room was filled with legos, wooden blocks, cars, carpet squares, dollhouses and hollow blocks too a block builders paradise! Here children spent hours designing, balancing, measuring and engineering the architectural feats of childhood.

The former front bedroom, now art studio, was where creativity flourished. Here children were offered easels, palettes, brushes, paint, watercolors, crayons, paste (remember that smell?), home made playdough and clay.

The tiny bathroom was complete with child-sized toilets no fear of falling in here! Right in the bathroom there were shelves of books to help pass the time, a small step to reach the sink and childrens artwork gracing the walls!

Towards the top of the restaurant style, swinging door was a round window hole that made it easy to see the comings and goings of the kitchen there was even a smaller hole cut out towards the bottom so the children could see in too!

The gathering area was in the former family room where Mary offered couches, pillows and beanbags. There was a flannel board, a piano and rows and rows of books! Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel, The Little House, Caps for Sale, The Very Hungry Caterpillar and Babar the Elephant. Books as far as I could see!

The former dining room now housed small square tables used for both activity tables and for snack time. Each was draped with a red and white checkered tablecloth and was surrounded by low benches and behind these tables, a door leading to the covered back porch there was more out there!

The porch was a world all in itself. There were boxes of clothes for dressing up long capes, high heel shoes, feather boas, raincoats, long daddy shirts, fireman boots, winter hats and party dresses. There were art easels out there too! A cotton string, the full length of the porch, was suspended above me. The drying line, she said, for your pictures. Long wooden brushes peeked out from recycled orange juice cans, which now served as paint containers. Extra paint and brushes rested on top of the wooden cable spool that doubled as a table! At the other end of the porch was a waist-high, wooden sand box filled with soft white sand. Next to it was a shelf where all the sand toys were kept. Scoops, funnels, egg beaters, flour sifters, wooden spoons, measuring cups and muffin tins lay waiting to be employed by a childs imagination.

We opened the screen door and stepped from the shade of the porch to the bright of the back yard morning. Ah, the yard it was unlike any other. There were swings, ladders, structures to climb, bikes to ride, shovels for digging, hammers for pounding, ducks to chase and water to splash in. There were things to jump from, capes to wear, paper for painting, books for reading, dollies for washing, and there was a boat! A real one that we could paint on and pretend in! There was a sand pit for digging, bubbles for blowing and, right in the middle, a tall metal slide that was as high as the sun.

We stood there in the yard. Together. I didnt move. I just looked. Then, in a voice I can still hear, she gently let go my hand, bent down to me and said, Go on now - go on and play.

I burst into the yard and spent the morning running around, dodging trees and leaping over ducks while playing tag and chase! I jumped over mud puddles, climbed the rope ladder that was suspended from the walnut tree! I read books on blankets in the shade, sang Five Little Monkeys and played Ring Around the Rosie. I made new friends and giggled with them, splashed in the water, painted pictures at the easels and ventured through my new surroundings.

This was my first day of school.

I would spend the next two years with my Miss Mary, Miss Nancy and Miss Gerry. I would play hard, sing loud and make mud pies. I would climb trees, run with friends, jump rope and build with blocks. I would listen to songs, make puppets and draw pictures. Sometimes I would get mad and hit other kids, only to cry big tears when the same was done to me. I would make friends, push them away and then invite them to my party. I would be very loud and incredibly quiet. But today, this first day, while my shoes were still new and my lunch box still shiny, I would have snack.

No one could have guessed the impact this snack would have on my life. How could they? You see - I was a pretty average, normal child, maybe a little more talkative than some, definitely a little more active than most, but overall a normal kid. Loved to read, sing, play, paint do all the things that children enjoy doing. There was one thing though that really put me apart from other kids. One area where I was really different - my favorite snack. Not grahams, not PBJs, not applesauce or pretzels with oranges, but cheese. Hot spicy jalapeno pepper jack cheese. I could eat it on crackers, by itself, on bread, but my favorite way to enjoy the hot spicy cheese was when it was cut into slices and put on top of crunchy red apples. I loved jalapeno cheese with apples! No one really remembers how this favorite manifested, my mom though, seems to think that I went and visited someone and when I came home, it was my new favorite! Either way - snack arrived on my first day of school later on in the morning as our play came to a halt with an