Visit a Danish School Playground With Me
-- because in Denmark, we're all allowed to do that!
Denmark has really been showing off, weather-wise, this spring, and so a few days ago, a friend and I decided to take advantage of the sun and have a picnic in her backyard. Before that, though, we thought we’d walk through a nearby open-air market, just in case there was cheese or flowers or coffee or something that we needed. And as we made our way there, my friend suggested that we walk through the school playground — it’s a nice shortcut, with the added bonus that we might get to see her cute little boy.
As an American, alarms were going off in my head. Cut through the playground? We wouldn’t be able to do that! We’d have to sign in at the front office, show identification, get visitor badges. Secretly, I thought my friend was nuts. But, I’ve been wrong about so many things here (we jokingly refer to these things as the Danish IQ tests we’ve failed) that I said nothing and decided to see what happened.
And the most amazing thing did. Readers, we walked right through the playground.
The school is at the end of my neighbor’s street, and as we approached it, I was floored to see that while there was a stone wall around the playground, there was no fence, no gate, no apparatus to lock it up. It was wide open, and we walked right in.
I was first impressed by the size of this playground. It’s huge! And so fun. No sad set of two swings and one slide here — enough swings and slides for everyone, along with multiple monkey bars and obstacle courses and sand boxes and game courts. There are so many things to do, and so much space to run and play.
Enough room even for animals! They have birds, bunnies, and a goat — maybe more, but those are the only animals I saw while I was there.
Also, really loved the kid-made signs advising me to take care of the school grounds and animals.
There were a ton of kids outside playing. (I went back later, during non-school hours, to take these kid-free photos.) It was noisy and rambunctious — kids chasing each other and kicking soccer balls and riding scooters and burying each other in the sand. It all looked like a lot of fun. There were teachers outside, too, and they were really letting kids play — not being overbearing or strict at all.
This makes a lot of sense. Early education in Denmark is play-based. This is especially true in kindergarten, which is generally made up of kids 3-5 years old. They spend most of their school day in free play and outdoor activities. Formal schooling — folkeskole — begins for kids at age 6, but this is very relaxed compared to education in the States. Danish schools avoid things like class rankings and testing, instead placing emphasis on having students work in groups and develop problem solving skills. And there’s still quite a lot of time spent playing — outdoors mostly, but there are play spaces inside the school, too.
Back to the playground. I fully expected a teacher to talk to us — to ask what we needed or why we were there. They did not. They actually seemed to take little note of us at all. Maybe they recognized my friend as a parent (maybe) but I was a complete stranger, and they were entirely unconcerned about me. Even when I started talking to my friend’s son and waved at some of his friends I’d met before. There were also other adults there, just walking, and no one seemed concerned about them, either.
I’ve written here before about how foundational trust is in Danish society, and this is just another prime example of that. The default reaction is to trust that people are doing the right thing. Even strangers on a playground.
Maybe most amazingly, this trust isn’t just for adults; kids are also trusted to do what is right. As we walked around the playground, I took note of multiple open entrances/exits, none of which had gates or fences on them. Not only can anyone walk in — they can also walk out, and that includes all those boisterous kids outside playing. But, they don’t. At each of these places, there’s a yellow paint line. This signifies to kids that they’ve gone as far as they’re allowed to go.
While we were there, I didn’t see any kids breaking the yellow line rule. And I would guess that if it were a problem, the school would adopt a different policy or approach. Which means kids are doing the right thing, reliably, every day. (I’m not saying I think kids have never crossed these lines, but I am saying that I think they mostly don’t.) I can’t help but wonder if making kids feel trusted like that encourages them to act so responsibly. Danish schools seem pretty intentional about fostering great relationships between students and teachers — so much so that students call teachers by their first names.
The playground seems like a perfectly natural extension of what I’ve learned about Danish pedagogy. The curriculum moves at a slower pace, but it is rigorous and inclusive. For example, students here don’t start learning to read until Year 2, when kids are 7-8 years old (unlike the U.S., where this generally starts at 5 years old), but this is also when all students here begin learning English. (I once ran into a group of 10 year olds on a field trip who wanted to pet Lily, and they were all able to seamlessly switch into English to talk to me. It was impressive.) In year 6, they can also begin learning a third language! Students are also taught practical skills, like how to use a knife, build a fire, and cook. Students take sports in all years of school — in fact, 45 minutes of exercise is required every day. And, field trips are incredibly common. They also are done without permission slips and can be very spur of the moment. For example, a teacher can decide that it’s a pretty day, so they’re going to go learn about trees at a park, and off they go! It’s really that simple.
While all of that will sound very different, and possibly nuts, to my American readers, it’s worth noting that Denmark’s education system is highly regarded; schools are very safe; and the country boasts a 99% literacy rate.
When my friend and I walked through the playground, I couldn’t stop talking to her about how different all of this was from what I’m used to at home. I can remember security being so tight that a campus officer would have to unlock gates to let me leave during the school day. My friend was shocked by that. She has lived in both Norway and Denmark, and she can’t imagine schools having systems that rigid.
I realize that I’m talking about very different countries here. Denmark is so tiny compared to the States, and it really is apples and oranges in a lot of ways. But I can’t help imagining an alternate universe where schools at home are like this. A place where kids can run and play and feel safe at school and not spend every minute stuck in a desk preparing for a state test. A place where parents can send their kids to school (often alone on bikes!) without worrying about what will happen that day. A place where teachers and students and parents and the community all trust each other, and everyone acts in way that preserves and honors that trust.
It’s amazing, isn’t it, how much a grown up person like me can still learn from a playground.
Love your writing style and getting to follow your experiences here 🫶
A bit off-subject, but this article reminded me of the first day I dropped my son off at preschool (vuggestue). To my chagrin, he immediately toddled over to another child and took the ball that child was playing with. I apologized for his bad behavior and told him to give the ball back. The Danish pedagogue then explained that they do not intervene, unless things get really out of hand, because they feel it is important for the children to establish their own hierarchy. We’re talking about 1-year-olds here. That was a real eye-opener for me; the first of many!
This one almost made me cry. My mom asked me the other day whether it would be scarier to teach elementary kids about what to do in an active shooter event, or to leave them unprepared. Here I am worrying that Logan will figure out what I did to the wasps in the backyard. It would be so wonderful to live in a place where kids aren’t just preparing for state tests and lockdowns. 🙁
I do love Logan’s school though. It is a Montessori school that does things very similar to the Danish way (but they still have to take the STAAR).