Editorial

It was Brian Sutton-Smith, the much admired and fondly remembered passionate scholar of play, who once observed that ‘as we enter a culture through one tiny vantage point, one tiny peep hole, much else comes into view’ (Sutton-Smith, 1986). Whether by accident or design, he chose a wonderfully layered image. It encompasses the smallness of the young, their often assumed social and cultural insignificance, and just a touch of Alice peering down the rabbit hole that will open up a madcap world with a remarkable resemblance – and challenge – to the adult world above ground.

Sutton-Smith was signalling the capacity of play, that core individual and collective engagement of children, to provide an enlargement and enrichment of our understanding of humankind: its social and cultural patterns, its linguistic adventurousness, its emotional and physical range. That has been a foundation perspective since I joined the editors of the International Journal of Play in its early planning days in 2011. Now that I am retiring, and writing my last editorial, I have been reflecting on how our contributors have turned the peephole into a magnifying glass, so that we can see more clearly – and question more effectively – the nature of play (for children and adults), its functions, its purposes, its possibilities.

We have published much to gladden the heart and – we hope – excite argument and renew exploration. The growing diversity of our contributors, both national and cultural, is especially welcome. So are our innovations, such as the section titled Memories of and Reflections on Play. The writer and critic John Berger, whose recent death, like Sutton-Smith’s, casts a large shadow, remarked that ‘a story is always a rescuing operation’ (Kellaway, 2016). The writers for this section of the journal rescue their playlife stories – each wonderfully individual and yet remarkably familiar. (John Berger again: ‘What two different people have in common will always, in all cases, be larger than what differentiates them’ (Kellaway, 2016).) The stories offer context, detail and reflection. Their subject is play, their themes are imagination, order and freedom, and their meaning reaches beyond the ‘useful’ categorisations of play which sometimes dominate discussion, especially of children’s play. We are wise to be reminded of the perceptive comment of the Russian writer Kornei Chukovsky: ‘The consistent aversion of the child to carefully established reality is universal’ (Chukovsky 1963/1925).

Another worthwhile innovation has been the development of an annual ‘special’ issue devoted to one major play subject. Each issue – Play and Wellbeing; Lifework and Legacy: Iona and Peter Opie’s Contribution to the Study of Play; Play and Playwork; and Histories of Play – has benefited from expert guest editors working with our support and encouragement. As it progresses, this innovation will build a library of subject-specific material that augments international research and writing on play. The willingness of the publisher, Taylor & Francis, to turn some of these special issues into book form is encouraging evidence of their value.

Many years ago, when I was writing a book about children’s folklore, I chose the metaphor of a double helix: ‘one strand representing the universal, ubiquitous features of child lore, the other the particular manifestations of children's play lives which result from specific circumstances’ (Factor, 1988). It has been a privilege and a pleasure to enlarge my understanding and appreciation of this double helix as an editor of the International Journal of Play. I have no doubt the journal will continue to flourish and enrich play scholarship, to the benefit of us all.