Your Complete Guide to Rough and Tumble Play
Ever felt uncomfortable watching kids play fighting? We’ve been there. Read on for what to do when the play gets rough.
IN THIS SERIES OF BLOGS, WE’LL BE DIVING DEEPER INTO ELLEN SANDSETER’S 6 CATEGORIES OF RISKY PLAY.
These are:
1. Play with great HEIGHTS
2. Play with high SPEED
3. Play with dangerous TOOLS
4. Play near dangerous ELEMENTS (read more here and here)
5. ROUGH‐AND‐TUMBLE play
6. Play where the children can ‘DISAPPEAR’/GET LOST.
There are countless benefits of risky play for children (read more here), and we are massive advocates for allowing children to have supervised opportunities to engage with risk.
Today, we’re confronting our discomfort and delving deep into ROUGH AND TUMBLE PLAY.
WHAT IS ROUGH AND TUMBLE PLAY?
Rough and tumble play involves wrestling and play-fighting, but also extends to fencing with sticks, hitting each other and tripping each other up.
This is a common form of risky play at forest school, especially when we run primitive weapons sessions. However, it can sometimes be seen as a cause for concern among adults. We don’t condone violence at Wildlings, but this type of play fighting does happen, particularly between boys. It starts in the spirit of play and can often morph into something more – a test of wills, a test of strength.
In her research, Sandseter found that children varied in how scary they found rough and tumble play, but nearly all of them agreed that it was great fun. On the other hand, adults agreed that some aspects were riskier than others, such as fencing with sticks.
The challenging thing about rough and tumble play is that there’s “a fine balance between play and real fighting, where the margins are small for one of the children becoming hurt ‘for real’.” (Sandseter 2007).
This is the part where adults start to get uncomfortable, because in the act of play fighting, kids begin to embody that energy of opposition, of not wanting to be defeated. And that can easily tip a play fight into something that feels a lot more real, both for the children involved and for those watching.
TO PLAY OR NOT TO PLAY
As a playworker, I’m going to be honest – this part of risky play makes me uncomfortable. Why? Because my goal in the forest is to make sure that everyone is having a positive experience. I want children to feel safe enough to explore their edges. I also care that they feel secure enough socially to drop in, have fun, and make the day their own.
Inevitably with rough and tumble play the spirit of competition comes out, and one person can be stronger than the other, or more determined to win, or they take it more seriously. It can sometimes happen that someone comes out a little worse for wear, but that’s not always the case.
We have a group of homeschoolers who have been coming to forest school for a while, and what do they love to do every session? Whittle a spear or sword and battle it out. Often, they are evenly matched, boys about 10 years old, and it’s a truly thrilling experience for them. A kind of hush falls over the onlookers as they wield their sticks, and it seems more about smarts, confidence and strategy than it is about actually hurting the other person.
If this happens, they show genuine remorse, and the friendships are strong enough to bounce back from these moments. Over time, I’ve also observed that this play fizzles out naturally, and once the excitement of play fighting wears off, they find other things to do with their energy.
Overall, play fighting with sticks, spears, bows and arrows, and swords tends to be the time when as playworkers we step in and offer some grounding mediation. But I often question myself in these moments – am I doing the right thing? Should I leave them be? If one of them gets hurt or jabbed with a pointy stick, is that ok?
Injuries do happen during rough and tumble play. And I think this makes us uncomfortable because, unlike the other categories of risky play, children are usually personally responsible for hurting themselves, or if someone else gets hurt it’s usually an accident. But with play fighting, injuries can be caused directly by another child, and as playworkers we have a responsibility to keep everyone safe.
At the same time, we encourage child-led play. And child-led play often leads to play fighting. So what’s a playworker to do?
SHOULD WE JUST LET IT HAPPEN?
Yes and no. This type of behaviour is actually a healthy and necessary part of growing up, particularly as children become tweenagers. Children need safe spaces to explore their abilities, and it’s important that we give them permission to figure things out for themselves.
Educational Therapist Andrea Clifford-Poston (2008) shared research by the London Metropolitan University which shows that boys who are allowed to fight and play with toy guns, overall, do not hurt each other much and develop close friendships. For more on weapons play, read here.
She points out that play fighting can be a sign of affection amongst boys, and although it might lead to real fighting and someone getting hurt, it’s not necessarily a bad thing.
“In play fighting, boys are trying to find the limit and extent of their body power. They are acting out serious anxieties for them at this age—how strong am I? Who is stronger than me? How does it feel to hurt and to be hurt . . . to be the conqueror, to be the victim? To see this play only in terms of “male competitiveness” is mistaken. Boys learn to be boys by being allowed to practice being male.”
Clifford-Poston explores an interesting point: that the problem is not the play fighting, but adults’ reactions to it. So why does it bother us so much? She suggests that one reason could be that we don’t want to see children grow up to be violent or embody qualities we find troubling.
But is there another way to interpret this behaviour? Clifford-Poston believes so.
Andrea Clifford-Poston, Educational Therapist
“What we call aggression we can also call vitality. Asking boys not to be so aggressive can feel like asking them not to be so alive.”
She continues, “Boys are naturally high-spirited and boisterous. They need to be provided with activities which allow them to let off steam. Years ago this used to happen naturally as children ran free and played outside… [there are] few places where boys can find a safe environment to develop their male identities. We know that boys who are allowed to expend energy in some rough and tumble play concentrate better and are more well behaved in following later quieter activities.”
It’s important to note here that girls also participate in rough and tumble play, and it’s just as important for them to discover this aspect of themselves. “We should argue that vitality and sensitivity are issues for both boys and girls,” says Clifford-Poston. “We can argue that if boys were freer to be gentle, sensitive and kind, then girls would feel freer to be more ruthlessly aggressive. Perhaps we should not be worrying so much about persuading boys to be less aggressive, and worrying more about encouraging girls to be more vital?”
I find this an interesting idea. It comes back to her notion that the problem isn’t the play fighting, but the way we interpret it.
Returning to Sandseter’s research as well, I think it’s important to remember that children enjoy this type of play! They find fulfillment through play fighting, and the key word here is PLAY. It’s imaginative and creative, and they wouldn’t be doing if they didn’t enjoy it.
HOLD UP, WHAT ABOUT INJURIES?
How often do kids really injure each other in rough and tumble play? In my experience it’s pretty rare. I think we worry about it happening far more than it actually happens, and that probably has something to do with different levels of risk aversion in children and adults.
Certainly, there are moments when it’s appropriate for us to have a cautionary conversation with kids. When older children start to exert power over younger ones, when play becomes exclusionary, when tensions rise beyond a playful level, and when children become emotionally dysregulated, we step in and have open conversations about what’s going on.
Whenever we run primitive weapons sessions, we address the risk of injury and discuss safe ways to handle our weapons. We ask questions like:
- Do we use weapons on our friends?
- How would you feel if someone did that to you?
- If we’re running around with a sharp stick, how can we reduce the risk of getting hurt/hurting someone else?
At the beginning of the session, we cover the three forms of respect that are the foundation for our play: respect ourselves, respect each other, and respect our environment. Also, before we set them loose to explore weapons play, I like to open up a chat about inclusivity. To have a weapon and feel strong doesn’t mean that they need to intimidate someone else. To have a base and form a team doesn’t mean that there needs to be an enemy and that someone needs to be singled out to play the part.
It's a balancing act to create a safe space for everyone to explore whatever they’re feeling on the day. But it’s a fascinating process, and reading the research confirms what I see to be true.
Kids love rough and tumble play, and they need rough and tumble play. And sometimes, they need us to step back and let it happen.
ALIVE AND THRIVING
So what should we do when the play gets rough? I’ve slowly become more comfortable with these moments and come to accept that it’s not always necessary to step in and interfere. I’ll admit – when it’s the afternoon and the play fighting becomes a group affair and there’s a bunch of boys running around the forest with spears, I keep a close eye on it.
But what I see is how engaged they are. I hear the squeals and shouts of victory. I see the thrill of the chase, I see them running at full speed, exerting their full power. I see their imaginations in full flare. I see them as vital and alive.
And more than that, when it’s time to leave the forest, I see them walk up to their parents fully content, with a bow slung over their shoulder, a spear sticking out of their backpack.
I see the relief on their parent’s faces, the glow of seeing their kid happy, knowing their child has found an outlet for those big feelings that can sometimes seem so challenging.
The kids come running over, dirty and carrying a bundle of sticks. They come in for a big hug, excited to tell them all about the fun they had – and ask when they can come back again.
That’s what I remember most.
We hope this helps you to feel more comfortable navigating rough and tumble play with your children. If you’ve got your own tips for play fighting that we haven’t covered here, let us know over on our socials @wildlings_forestschool.
And if you need a little encouragement and support on your journey with risky play, book into one of our programs and join a community of like-minded families putting the dirt back into childhood. Spaces are available in Brisbane and the Sunshine Coast here https://www.wildlingsforestschool.com/bookings.
Written by Ellen Nesbitt. Ellen is a nature play advocate and creative writer with a passion for helping families connect with the outdoors. She is dedicated to exploring ways to nurture children's creativity, independence, wellbeing and love for nature.