A Walk Down Memory Lane

 

My best cousin and I

As I walked towards my training destination yesterday morning, something unexpected happened. A sudden wave of memories swept over me, pulling me into a time long gone but still vivid in my heart. I realized I was on a road I had walked for over twenty years — my familiar road. The same path that once led me to school, to neighbors, to endless games, laughter, and childhood dreams.

I passed by our old house. It looked almost the same — frozen in time — yet something felt different. The entrance had changed. The tiny walkway where we once played for hours, chasing each other and drawing with chalk, was no longer ours. It had been claimed by the government and renamed as a public lane. But in my heart, it will always be a part of our home — a sacred piece of my childhood.

I could almost hear the echoes of our laughter — innocent, wild, and free. It rang in my ears as if calling me back. I paused for a moment and asked myself, Where has all that laughter gone? Where are those carefree children who once turned narrow paths into magical playgrounds?

Today, childhood looks different. So many children sit silently in front of screens. If they are not quiet, but instead full of energy and movement — running, jumping, questioning — we label them. We diagnose them. We try to fix what may not be broken.

Sometimes I wonder: if the children from my era were growing up today, would we all be diagnosed with some disorder? Would our energy, noise, imagination, and even mischief be pathologized?

Maybe the problem is not the children. Maybe we have forgotten what it means to be one.

As I reached my destination, I carried a quiet reminder with me — to protect what remains of that joy, to create spaces for children to be children again. To laugh loudly. To play freely. To live fully.

Psychological Reflections and Social Impact

From a psychological perspective, this shift in childhood experience raises real concerns. Decades of research in developmental psychology show that play — especially unstructured, outdoor play — is essential for emotional regulation, cognitive development, and social skills. According to Piaget and Vygotsky, play is not a luxury but a necessity; it builds problem-solving, empathy, resilience, and even moral reasoning.

When children are restricted — physically or emotionally — or constantly plugged into screens, their brains adapt differently. Their ability to concentrate, manage emotions, and develop healthy social interactions can be compromised. Over-pathologizing normal childhood behavior may also have long-term consequences on a child’s self-esteem and identity.

Moreover, the rise in anxiety, depression, and attention disorders among young people today cannot be viewed in isolation. It reflects societal shifts — how we live, how we parent, and how we define “normal.” When natural childhood behaviors are met with adult expectations of stillness and obedience, we risk crushing the very essence of growth and creativity.

The impact extends beyond the individual child. It touches families, schools, and communities, shaping future generations. If we do not intentionally create environments where children can thrive as children, we risk raising generations that are emotionally disconnected, creativity-deprived, and silently burdened.