Johannesburg, South Africa. Having a tennis court in the garden of our company sponsored villa was rather an embarrassment for my parents (or at least they pretended it was). It was too obviously the sign of a privileged lifestyle among a society that was utterly unjust. It underlined that we were – willingly or not – on the wrong side of the system in the then still existing apartheid system in South Africa. So there was no question of us children having tennis lessons. On the contrary, we were rather encouraged to misuse the tennis court, and thus make a statement, which we, of course, did not fully understand at that time.
Once the tennis court was “desecrated” it was free to become anything we wanted it to be. We laid out a whole system of streets on it in order to practice cycling. We organised a flee market and presented the products on the court. We flooded the area and created a gigantic mud slide. We used it as a dog kennel while having guests in the garden. We practiced football for days on end. We built a gigantic toy city out of real bricks and tiles. We could do anything on the tennis court, but play tennis. This place was the best place of my childhood. The privilege was that it was nothing. A void in the garden that we could fill at our wish and will.
Non-defined places such as this are hard to find in children’s environments nowadays. And size does not matter here. Rather the over-determination of places supposedly meant to be playgrounds and filled with toys that leave no space for imagination is the problem. Too many good intentions, too little nothingness. For children, places that are nothing can best become something.Johannesburg, South Africa. Having a tennis court in the garden of our company sponsored villa was rather an embarrassment for my parents (or at least they pretended it was). It was too obviously the sign of a privileged lifestyle among a society that was utterly unjust. It underlined that we were – willingly or not – on the wrong side of the system in the then still existing apartheid system in South Africa. So there was no question of us children having tennis lessons. On the contrary, we were rather encouraged to misuse the tennis court, and thus make a statement, which we, of course, did not fully understand at that time.
Once the tennis court was “desecrated” it was free to become anything we wanted it to be. We laid out a whole system of streets on it in order to practice cycling. We organised a flee market and presented the products on the court. We flooded the area and created a gigantic mud slide. We used it as a dog kennel while having guests in the garden. We practiced football for days on end. We built a gigantic toy city out of real bricks and tiles. We could do anything on the tennis court, but play tennis. This place was the best place of my childhood. The privilege was that it was nothing. A void in the garden that we could fill at our wish and will.
Non-defined places such as this are hard to find in children’s environments nowadays. And size does not matter here. Rather the over-determination of places supposedly meant to be playgrounds and filled with toys that leave no space for imagination is the problem. Too many good intentions, too little nothingness. For children, places that are nothing can best become something.