This past summer, an article in The New York Times gained viral attention for arguing that American families were going into debt to take their kids on Disney vacations. Part clickbait and part statistics, the piece drew praise from anti-Disney penny-savers and criticism from those who believe “they’re only young once.” (I am, incidentally, part of the latter.)
While the piece seemed to be an attack on Disney, what struck me about it — and the social media debate that followed — was how it inadvertently supported one form of American lifestyle. It suggested that the only acceptable way to “adult” as an American is to save hard-earned money, and that spending it on non-essential happiness is reckless or irresponsible.
Historically, we’ve always been a nation of workers. America was built on the beliefs that hard work pays, money is always the end game, and status is even more valuable than money. Every group that has longed to settle here — from the Ellis Island immigrants to refugees of today — has in part desired a life here because of our proverbial streets lined with gold. America is indeed the land of opportunity… but at what cost?
While I’m thankful for every opportunity my country gives me and proud of our collectively strong work ethic, the stress this work-obsessed lifestyle puts on our minds, bodies, and relationships is problematic. America’s work/life balance is far from ideal — or healthy. Long school hours from the age of five set the stage for a work-focused routine that no human is innately meant to adhere to. Early academic pressure and the competition of college admissions has led far too many young people to mental breakdowns. Individually this is toxic, but systematically it fits perfectly into one’s future in a work-obsessed American culture.
By example, American kids have been learning this path to success for generations. And its roots are not entirely bad. My father’s parents escaped genocide in Armenia and fled to America through Ellis Island. Understandably, they embraced every opportunity here and took none of it for granted — immediately learning English, finding quick work, and striving to open their own business. They saved every penny they earned and chased the American dream. It’s a common story — and a great one — but it doesn’t come without pressure. I’ve always seen in my father the ingrained, subconscious belief that hard work is the ultimate achievement. The idea that downtime makes one “lazy,” and being exhausted is simply the mark of a responsible, red-blooded American. Generational success has its value, but comes with mental burnout that few people talk about.
Continuing to send these pressured messages to our kids guarantees us more burned out employees chasing the next fleeting victory of money, promotions, or whatever it takes to keep up with the Kardashians. Billionaires are zipping off to space simply because they’ve achieved so much and earned so much that they’re bored and have nothing to look forward to! Peaking too soon is a problem, and chasing temporary highs only leads to a cup that is never full.
Is raising our children to follow this work-obsessed lifestyle what we really want?
I myself was that ultra-responsible kid who did all my homework independently and managed myself without ever having to be told what to do. I got my first job in high school, always had a hefty savings account, and bought every one of my cars from the age of 17 by myself. I was on the Dean’s List throughout college, graduated from an Ivy League grad school, and have an incredibly strong work ethic (that I’m sure in part came from my Dad.) Make no mistake, I’m grateful for all of it. But adulthood, parenthood, and a career in mental health have taught me that there are other things that are just as important — like play.
In working with kids and raising my own, I’ve seen how toxic our educational and work pressures are on Americans from an early age. My ten-year-old often complains about the rigid structure of our public school system, and has astutely noted that he spends more time at school than he spends at home. Of course I want him to be well educated, but I can’t blame him for questioning the point of all this in the grand scheme of life. Childhood is meant for play — through which children develop their brains, acquire new skills, and regulate their emotions, among other things. As Mister Rogers wisely said, “Play is often talked about as if it were a relief from serious learning. But for children play is serious learning. Play is really the work of childhood.”
To me, there’s no doubt that we need to allow children more time to simply be children. The other day, my son attended a birthday party that ended with the kids playing with sticks in the backyard — and remarkably, he said it was the best part of the day. Whether they’re using their imagination, engaged in pretend play, or participating in pre-constructed play spaces, creativity and development flow when we are immersed in happy, playful experiences. And that goes for adults too!
As adults, we don’t talk enough about our own need for play. How soaring on the playground swings next to our kids or roughhousing with our pets or peacefully building puzzles soothes our souls and strengthens our brains. This is the work/life balance that is missing in our culture. Play releases endorphins, which boost mood, and can help us feel less anxiety and depression around the many unavoidable realities of adulthood. I often say that the only good thing that came out of the pandemic was the realization that efficient remote work is possible, so employees can rightfully spend more time with their families.
Perhaps the parents The New York Times article admonished aren’t all reckless spenders, but adults who prioritize play. Yes, it’s true that Disney is overpriced. But it’s also true that Disney offers guests of all ages a place where play is prioritized and the pressure of the outside world can be escaped. What’s so wrong with that? I love going to Disney Parks, and I can’t put a price on the magical memories I make with my son there. But I’m also someone who believes travel is more valuable than expensive handbags or cars, so I prioritize it over things others may not. Of course, I’m not suggesting anyone go into debt to the point of homelessness or food insecurity to take a Disney vacation. But if we work tirelessly just to save every penny, how much living are we even doing?
Watching my son chase his friends around the yard with sticks in their hands and smiles on their faces will always remind me how special childhood is. It is also incredibly fleeting, and something I strongly believe is worth savoring — whether that’s through Disney vacations we find a way to afford or simply through slowing down and playing with sticks. We can learn a lot from our kids and their natural instincts to play. If we all make it a priority, perhaps our culture will follow along too.
What Lara Wrote 