It's a spaceship, it's a castle, it's an empty cardboard box
- Joanne Jacobs
- Mar 14
- 1 min read
The four-year-olds stared at the empty cardboard box in their preschool classroom. They waited for teacher Hema Khatri to tell them what to do with it. "What is it supposed to be?" one asked.
Children have lost the ability to play independently, to see the magic in an empty box, writes Khatri on EdSurge. "Many of my students now hesitate to begin open-ended play without direct instruction. They wait for something to be defined for them instead of defining it themselves."
Is the box a castle, a race car, a pirate ship or a nest for stuffed animals? These days, children are used to being viewers of ready-made worlds, not creators of their own stories, she writes.
Screens can be educational as well as entertaining, Khatri writes. "Many children learn letters, numbers, languages and songs through digital tools."
But they can do too much. Always entertained, kids have no need to invent their own games.
"The silence that once gave birth to imagination is replaced by noise, movement and constant stimulation."
Parents should make time and space for their children to play without instructions and without a screen, Khatri writes. "Boxes, fabric, paper, paint, blocks, tape, water, and natural items invite imagination far more than expensive, pre-designed toys."
Don't "fix" boredom, she advises. Children can learn to amuse themselves. "Maybe the moment we choose to slow down, to listen, and to leave a box unlabeled, we will begin to see castles rising again."
When my "surprise" brother was little, we seriously considered not giving him birthday gifts. He preferred empty boxes.
The humble cardboard box was an early inductee into the Toy Hall of Fame. Yes, there really is such a thing.
How many parents can tell a story of giving their young child an expensive toy on Christmas Day only to see the child abandon that toy by early afternoon in favor of playing exclusively with the box the toy came in for weeks on end?
Boredom. I'll never forget my mother's response to "I'm bored". "OK, I'll find something for you to do." We quickly learned never to admit to any level of boredom.
It keeps going into college. From freshman orientation on, the student life office demands control of every student organization and event. "Forced fun" is the watchword for their own events. Students want to do something? The history club wants to show a movie in a deserted classroom building at night or the chemistry club a "Science Jeopardy" game: OK, in order to reserve a room, you need the approval of no fewer than three student life deanlets, two administrative assistants, the security office, and a faculty advisor. That mock-athletic event that has been held at the end of the spring semester since at least the 1940s? Umm, it's not reflective of our campus' diversity, but we are not going to…
There was a multi-week story arc in Calvin & Hobbes in which he wanted a propellor beanie. He spent time eating enough cereal to earn it, sent away for it, waited for it, finally recieved it, broke it immediately, and had to wait for his dad to fix it. As he was waiting, he dreamed of using it to fly around. When it was finally working, he turned it on, only to find that the propellor spinned, but provided no lift.
In the final panel he said "At least it came in this great cardboard box!" to which Hobbes replied "Now we'll have some fun!"
Continuing on the Calvin & Hobbes arc, it should be noted that the Transmogrifier, Duplicator,…
Schooling has long been organized to break children of initiative and self-starting, at least in school subjects. At least Santa Claus was able to revive play in Susan Walker in a miracle on 34th street.
The sad part is that for all the PhDs and EdDs supposedly doing research, it has only gotten worse over the last century.