Empty Parks
Where have all the children gone?
A couple of days ago, I walked to a neighborhood park. It had a basketball court, a modern play structure, barbecue pits, and a trail through the woods leading down to a river way.
What it didn’t have was any children.
I explored the area for an hour and a half and didn’t see a single baby, child, young adult, or family.
Not a single person was at the park. Besides me.
This was on a Sunday afternoon. After church. A Goldilocks day. It was maybe 65 degrees Fahrenheit. Not too hot. Not too cold.
In a residential neighborhood. With obvious signs that people were home and that families with children lived in many of those homes.
Yet the park was completely empty.
This isn’t unique to central Texas, which is where—as I mentioned in my last post—I was at the time.
Across the United States, playgrounds are empty.
We’ve never seen a child on the merry-go-round at the park by the fire station in southern Oregon where we go to play bocce on the weekends.
On the rare occasions when I do see children, even preteens, at other parks in town, there’s almost always a parent or supervising adult with them—ready to intervene at the first sign of a conflict or skinned knee—close at hand.
It’s almost as if children in America have forgotten how to play outside by themselves.
Even when the weather is spectacular.
Where have all the children gone?
In his book, The Anxious Generation, Jonathan Haidt explains that since about 2012 childhood in America has changed from being play-based to being phone-based.
Kids—even preschoolers—are spending more time than ever before inside, on cell phones, tablets, laptops, and computers.
They aren’t playing and interacting with their peers in real life.
They’re watching videos, scrolling social media, following “influencers,” gaming, and interacting with their “friends” via Snapchat, TikTok, Reddit, Instagram, and a dozen other online platforms.
Haidt argues that the consequences of being addicted to smart phones and spending all day and half the night on-line are devastating.
Our kids are more depressed, anxious, sleep-deprived, unable to focus, and isolated than they’ve ever been before.
They’re also more susceptible to on-line bullying, sexual predation, pornography, and sextortion.
Just ask Elijah Heacock’s parents. A 16-year-old from Kentucky, Elijah killed himself on February 28, 2025 after being blackmailed by sextortionists who sent him A.I.-generated naked photos of himself and demanded he pay them $3,000.
According to CBS News, The National Center for Missing and Exploited Children received more than 500,000 reports of sextortion scams targeting minors last year alone.
The FBI estimates that at least 20 young people have taken their own lives because of sextortion scams since 2021.
Among them: 17-year-old Jordan Buta; Gavin Guffey, who was also 17; 13-year-old Levi Maciejewski; and 15-year-old Bryce Tate.
I suspect the actual number is much higher than the FBI’s estimation.
Jonathan Haidt argues that the tech industry, the government, and we parents all need to do more to protect our children from the pernicious and sometimes lethal effects of the internet.
In order for our children to be healthy and happy, we have to get them outside, in nature, and in community. With each other. With other adults. And without smart phones.
This is anything but easy.
We have a 16-year-old who knows how to circumvent every restriction and screen limitation, panics without the phone, and feels like her brain doesn’t work anymore.
So believe me when I say I know how hard it is.
Lately when I go out with other people, I’ve been trying very hard to get in the habit of leaving my phone at home or locking it in the car.
I was at a dance the other night. Without my phone. Talking to a new friend. We were having a lively conversation. Or so I thought.
But I guess the friend got bored, even though they were the one who was talking and I was enjoying listening?
In the middle of a sentence, they picked up their phone and started scrolling, suddenly completely engrossed in their phone. That was the end of our discussion.
They. Were. Gone.
To PhoneLaLand.
I’ve been considering making New Year’s resolutions. I’m not sure, yet, what they’ll be. But I am feeling eager to spend less time on screens and more time on real life. Step 1: Get myself (and hopefully my family) off the phone.
Friends, Romans, Countrymenfolk: What do you think about smart phones? Are they improving our lives or making us dumb? Are you concerned about how much time YOU spend on-line? What about your kids? And … have you made any New Year’s resolutions that you’re willing to share? I’d love to read your thoughts and ideas in the comment section below.
About the author:
Jennifer Margulis, Ph.D., is an award-winning science and health journalist.
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Why Telling Yourself You Don’t Have Time to do Something You Love is a Big Fat Lie
My oldest (16) just got a Gabb phone for his birthday, and his younger brother (13) inherited the flip phone. The thing that makes the biggest difference in being able to delay phones of any type - and especially smart phones - is that we homeschool. The peers they see most often are from families with similar views of technology, so they don’t feel like they are missing out as much. And tomorrow we are heading to our weekly park day with 6+ other families where we will largely ignore the children and let them be slightly feral - of course the toddlers will get more supervision than the rest.
From a reader who asked me to post this for him. He has an App on his phone called Be Present that limits his screen time ( 😊): “I tried to like and comment your article but I’ve already reached my limit of internet opens today. 10 - 5 minute max.
I was just thinking there aren’t kids skateboarding at civic center park in years either.”