The Province: Turn off your TV and take a walk, says MP
MP Dr. Keith Martin is advocating a national turnoff day for children and adults.
That’s turnoff, as in turn off the TV and computer once a week as a way to confront a dangerous trend of physical inactivity among Canada’s children and youth.
“In our country, what is quite shocking is that for the first time in history the generation of our children today is expected to have a shorter life span than their parents,” said Martin, a medical doctor, noting that diseases such as diabetes and cardiovascular problems are cropping up in young people.
“It’s entirely preventable. It’s just kids are not physically active. They’re sitting down for an appalling length of time. We weren’t designed to live like that as human beings.
“In fact, the average child will spend more than 40 hours a week — six hours a day on average — just watching television or playing video games.”
So Martin, the Liberal MP for Esquimalt-Juan de Fuca, will present a motion in Parliament next week that the “House of Commons encourage the federal government to work with the provinces to promote a one-night-a-week TV/video game-free night.”
Martin’s idea stems from last month’s comprehensive report by advocacy group Active Healthy Kids Canada (AHKC), saying that a dismal 12 per cent of Canadian children are getting the recommended 90 minutes a day of physical activity.
The 2010 AHKC report card on physical activity gave Canada’s kids an “F” for screen time, since 90 per cent of children are spending too much time in front of TV, computer and video screens.
“Kids need to be active and parents need to lead by example by getting their children away from the TV and video games to engage in free play,” said Martin.
The Province: Turn off your TV and take a walk, says MP
One Response to “The Province: Turn off your TV and take a walk, says MP”
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May 11th, 2010 at 12:57 pm
I agree that kids need less screen time. But I also feel that kids need less ‘seat’ time overall (something that all day kindergarten will make worse) and more freedom to engage in free play on their own terms–which means we must find solutions to create healthy, safe communities where parents feel okay about letting their children bike or walk to school, visit the local park to meet friends, walk to the corner store for a treat, or run from house to house to gather friends for a game of tag. But let’s be honest–it’s not parents watching kids after school anymore–it’s often a childcare facility where there are rules, planned crafts, etc. (and yes studies do show that children in childcare settings do have higher body mass indexes) and then in the evenings mom and Dad come home exhausted (expectations on parents are extremely high) . If we want to make changes to our children’s health we have to make changes to the culture and society that nurtures them. We must support families, drive down the cost of living, alleviate stranger danger fears, and learn to love all the noise and hullabaloo that comes from a neighborhood full of kids. What kid in their right mind would choose a video game over fun outside with a street/park full of other kids? My fear is that we won’t bother to make the big changes. We’ll just blame parents and then ostracize the fat kids and blame them for not managing their screen time. What good will that do anyone?
Here is a piece I wrote on this topic:
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Lessons Under Pine Trees
I grew up under a canopy of pines with a carpet of dry grass at my feet. Long before parents anxiously applied sticky layers of sunscreen, or watched their children 24/7, or filled their children’s days with summer camps, daycare, and classes. I ran free, or I liked to think I ran free.
1982. I am ten years old. I am wearing a navy bathing suit, shorts, and flip flops. My skin is golden because I have spent countless hours outside. My thick brown hair is purposely braided to resemble Laura Ingles Wilder. I am sweating profusely but each droplet evaporates almost immediately. It is a summer’s day in Kamloops BC.
I live in a place where suburban and wild meet. On one side of the street there are tidy houses with forcibly green lawns and on the other side, forest. Undeveloped land as far as you can see. This land is my playground, my teacher, my friend, and provides me with a deep connection to the earth.
On summer days my best friend and I head into the forest to play. We build forts, catch grasshoppers, and stockpile Saskatoon berries. We follow trails and climb trees. Nature is our nanny. Climb too high and have trouble getting down? Won’t do that again. Get lost and scared trying to find your way back? Next time you’ll pay attention to which trail you’ve taken. Need comfort? Our woodsy play house, smelling of rich spicy loam, and known only to a select few, is a place so familiar, so comfortable, that it instantly grounds us.
There is so much to see between the tall pines and amongst the yellow grasses. I’ve watched red ants build a network in a sandy hill. I’ve taken time to notice that wild strawberries grow like spiders and will branch out over even the driest landscape. I’ve wondered at the thick black soil hiding underneath the surface layer of pine needles and instinctively understood that this soil feeds the trees. I’ve drank cool water from the trickle of a stream. I’ve daydreamed, explored, built, created, and made friends—no toys or day camp leader in sight.
2008. I’ve got a couple of kids. They have never even walked to the park at the end of our street by themselves. I drive them to school. The roads are too busy for solitary bike riding. TV, computer, Wii. Lessons, playdates. I wouldn’t dare leave them in the car to go into the grocery store lest someone called social services. It’s all too much for me. Too disconnected. Sad.
Luckily we camp and when we do I allow them the freedom I had as a child. They ride their bikes unsupervised around the ring of sites, scale trees, ask neighbours to play, skin their knees, tear their filthy jeans, collect pine cones, pull apart rotting logs and explore the treasures inside. They are so happy they say “If I were rich I’d live at a camp ground.”
I’ve been noticing that not every parent agrees with my philosophy. One family from Vancouver was appalled that I allowed my six year old to climb trees and walk to the out house (two camp sites up) with her brother or a friend instead of an adult. They won’t allow their daughter to leave their own site. They took the time to explain the dangers to me: wild animals, wasp nests, strangers, concussions, and potential bullies. Their daughter spends the day watching as groups of laughing children run wildly around her. Another family plays top 40 music all day while their boys frantically thumb Nintendo DS’s and then the family heads inside their trailer for a movie and popcorn after dark.
I am not being critical of these people. I am simply trying to understand how we got here, to this place, where we are no longer at home in nature. We try to fill the silence instead of listening. We impose structure when there needn’t be any. We steal opportunities for enrichment and growth from children who deserve better. Our world has become smaller and colder.
Next summer my husband and I will be camping all over Vancouver Island. If you are slightly appalled by delightfully grimy children speeding around on their bicycles and hooting like owls, be aware that these are kids who have spent the day connecting to a little piece of the outside world. Question your hesitation to let your own kids join in. Freedom, fresh air, room to explore nature, and opportunities to think for ourselves are a child’s birthright.