The Power of Play: Creating Safe Spaces for Children
Balancing my role as parent and coach, my son helps me understand why play is important for children
I remember the day my five-year-old son and I walked into the speech therapist’s office.
It was a typical Friday, the sky was overcast with hints of rain, and I was a little anxious about how he would react to the session. As we stepped into the waiting room, the atmosphere immediately calmed my nerves.
The walls were painted with bright colours, cartoon characters danced along the mural, and a stack of toys lay in the corner, inviting my son to explore.
There was a sense of warmth and welcome, something one would expect from a place designed to help children feel at ease.
My son didn’t hesitate; he reacted to the toys, picked up a fire truck, and started rolling it across the floor, imitating the siren’s wail.
The therapist entered, a gentle smile on her face, and instead of launching into a clinical greeting or discussing a treatment plan, she sat down beside him.
She asked if he liked fire trucks, then picked up a toy ambulance to join in.
There was no formal introduction or discussion about what was going to happen.
It was just play.
Play that felt so natural, so inviting, that my son barely noticed he was being observed or assessed.
As they moved from game to game, exploring and interacting with one another, I realised this was a space where my son felt safe, understood, and valued.
It wasn’t just about the speech therapy, which was no doubt important. It was also more important to create a connection and establish a safe space, which came naturally to the therapist.
She created a bond built on trust and mutual respect.
The session flew by, and at the end, when the therapist mentioned they would see each other in two weeks, my son was genuinely excited.
He asked if we could come back tomorrow.
Reflecting on this experience, I couldn’t help but compare it to the world of youth sports.
I am a youth basketball coach and have had the privilege of attending and observing countless practice sessions.
Most of them follow a similar path.
One which is stark in comparison to the experience at the therapist’s office. The point of youth sports practices should be to keep the kids coming back, a point that the therapist had nailed.
I remember a particular practice that I observed a few years back.
The young players walked into practice, nervously clutching their parents’ hands. The new environment made them anxious and they stayed close to their parents.
The coach, a towering figure was setting up cones on the court.
I remember thinking that this was the first missed opportunity — a warm welcome, a high five and a smile would have gone a long way. Perhaps greeting each person at the door as they walked in would have done the trick.
The practice began with drills — endless, repetitive drills.
The coach attempted to offer instructions, focusing on technique and form, rarely showing enthusiasm or engagement with the individual players.
It wasn’t exactly his fault. He was new to coaching.
He was a former player who got roped into coaching kids, simply because he knew more about the game compared to the other parents.
Unfortunately, that tends to be the case.
We miss the mark here.
Coaching is a different skill from playing and coaching young players is a different game from coaching adults.
As the coach corrected their technique and explained things, the young players moved from one drill to the next, their faces growing increasingly bored and uninterested.
There was no play, no laughter, no sense that they were building something beyond technical skills.
As the session came to an end, with barely ten minutes left, the coach announced that they would play a game. The first game: 5 vs. 5 basketball.
As an observer of these practices, I couldn’t help but want to offer my input or suggestions.
However, I feel that it is important to understand my role.
I was a guest, and my role was that of an observer. So, I continued to observe.
Most of the kids had never played and had no understanding of the game.
What did the two teams mean to them anyway?
They all chased after the same ball, refused to pass it up, and knocked each other down. There was more laughter and crying.
The coach on the sideline instructed players to pass or shoot it.
Two kids were off to the side, completely oblivious to what was going on around them, high-fiving each other, chatting about something that seemed much more interesting than the game.
I remember thinking to myself, How many of these kids decided to play basketball because they recently watched a game and thought of how fun it could be? How many of these kids still think that basketball is fun?
The difference between these two settings couldn’t be more significant.
The therapist’s office was a safe space, designed to connect with children on their level, where learning happened through play and interaction.
Most youth sports are structured environments with rigid expectations, where the focus is solely on skill development, not on building relationships or creating a welcoming atmosphere.
As a parent and a coach, I realise the importance of connection and trust in helping children feel safe and motivated to learn.
Whether in therapy, school or sports, kids need spaces where they can express themselves, play, and build relationships without pressure or judgment.
It’s not enough to teach them skills; we need to create environments where they feel valued and respected.
My five-year-old son has recently started playing basketball, and it will be an interesting journey ahead of me, as a parent and a coach, how I navigate this with him.
One thought is clear though — if I want him to get better at playing basketball, I better get him to love being in the sports hall first.
Thanks for reading my story
