Not long ago, neighborhood homes stood without fences, and neighbors were like one family. In those communities, doors were wide open like the hearts of their people, inviting children out into the alleys to fill them with laughter and play. Some played with marbles or a ball, others raced or chased each other, or played hide-and-seek. If there was a tree nearby, you’d likely see a child swinging on a tire swing. Their laughter was the music of the time, echoing through the open air, while adults sat at street corners, hands filled with coffee cups, their gatherings overflowing with stories and wisdom.
Today, the scene has changed drastically. Streets have become fast car lanes; cement walls have risen to separate neighbors from each other. Parents’ horizons shrank, clouded by fears of accidents threatening their children’s lives. They hastened to lock their little ones behind walls, believing indoors to be safer. Yet, the indoors changed too — wide open yards were replaced by small screens no larger than a few inches.
Inside, browsers replaced playgrounds, tablets and phones locked children in a miniature world: a finger taps, the body remains motionless for hours, and the child talks more to people behind screens than those in real life. Play shrank from open, collective imagination to silent, solitary games.
Adults also withdrew from the scene; coffee no longer circulates in the streets, each home closed off to itself. They isolated themselves, away from surveillance cameras, in an effort to protect privacy. Ironically, these cameras—designed to provide security and reassurance—have only increased anxiety and stifled spontaneous visits.
Our children’s childhood was stolen by a tangled system of fear, cement, and modern technology. To reclaim the street time, we must calm traffic, lower walls—not necessarily the cement ones—improve parks, increase safe open spaces, and limit screen time in favor of outdoor hobbies and activities. Only then can we revive memories of children running freely in the open air, not behind walls, just as we grew up and generations before us lived.
