Yesterday I watched as two tots — about 4 and 6 — were trying to swing from the rings at the playground.

The older one, a girl, kept jumping to try to reach the rings. When that didn’t work, she tried climbing up the structure to get to them. That didn’t work either. She just could not reach.

Her brother, meanwhile, climbed up the other side, where there was a platform, and managed to start hanging from the rings.

His sister then gave him a few pushes as he hung there, the way you’d push a swing. It seemed somewhere between helpful and the opposite.

After about three pushes, the boy fell. He started crying, and the girl quickly squatted down to comfort him.

Then the dad ran over. And everything changed.

He moved the girl away and proceeded to comfort the boy himself. The girl was left with nothing to do. So the dad lifted her so she could reach the rings.

In that short moment that would have probably seemed sweet to anyone else, my head gave a little shake. The adult had just stopped almost every developmentally rich, beautiful, human thing that had been going on:

1. The two tots trying to figure out how to make something happen on their own — jumping, climbing, scrambling to reach the rings. Innovating. Failing. Innovating anew.

2. The tots interacting.

3. The older girl soothing her younger brother. (Even if she also made him fall. Life is complicated.)

4. The two of them depending on their wits and each other.

When the dad arrived, they lost all agency. Now someone was mediating the relationship. That same someone was helping them skip over the hard work — and sweet reward — of getting to the rings by dint of will, invention and practice. 

Also missed? The opportunity for the girl to grow in empathy and grace as she took on the role of comforting her brother.

Was this a tragedy? Of course not. The dad was just being kind. It’s almost impossible NOT to jump in if you see a tot hurt or struggling.

Which is why I know the biggest mistake of our generation is almost always being with our children.

So much growth happens when children have to figure things out for themselves — everything from how to reach a goal, to how to be a friend, to how to deal with frustration, disappointment and some pain.

With adults present, tots miss out on the “class time” that is unstructured, unsupervised free play. The time Mother Nature expected them to spend being scared, hurt, brilliant, creative, mean, collaborative — basically learning to be successful humans. Which inevitably includes some setbacks.

Our culture has made it practically taboo to leave tots unsupervised. They could get hurt! We have to be there to give them the benefit of our wisdom and caring.

Yet how did we get so wise and caring?

We had some time, as tots, when no adults were around.

Our hands couldn’t reach the rings, so we had to improvise.

Our siblings got hurt, so we had to comfort them.

We looked out for each other because a grownup wasn’t.

We owe our tots that same gift: some unsupervised time. For their sake, we can’t always be right there. Even when they get hurt.

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