Critically Playing in the City

     This trip into Philly was full of change. This helped me “critically play” because it was different from my normal routine. Mary Flanagan, in the introduction to her book Critical Play, defines play as “central to human and animal life; is generally a voluntary act; offers pleasure in its own right (and by its own rides); is mentally or physically challenging; and is separated from reality” (Flanagan 5). Some aspects of this trip that were different from my normal day include the food, the atmosphere, and the transportation. 

     My average day is spent in classes, at a desk studying, or eating the dining halls’ consistent but decent cuisine. The occasional escape from this normalcy is treasured. One very easy way to break this routine is through food.  Although Bryn Mawr’s food is delicious, trying new flavors and textures helps interrupt the monotony of the school year. For dietary exploration, I turned to the city of Philadelphia.

     This past trip into the city, we walked around, letting serendipity guide us.  But we did have a few destinations in mind, one of which was Franklin Fountain. Franklin Fountain is an old-fashioned ice cream parlor sporting homemade ice cream treats, and employees clad in the clothes of yesteryear.  Not only was the ice cream delicious, but the complete transportation into an antique soda and ice cream parlor truly fit Flanagan’s description of play being separated from reality.

     Another change which helped me to escape reality, and to play critically, was hunting down the Franklin Square carousel. My group’s general plan was to walk around historic Philadelphia; no exact plans were made other than to visit Franklin Fountain. We were reminded of reality when we reached the Visitor Center in Historic Philly, and found it closed due to the government shutdown. After aimlessly and dejectedly walking around for a few minutes, we found a tourist magnet in the form of a tacky and patriotic gift shop, where we found many free brochures offering information on our surroundings. One of the brochures had a picture of a carousel.

     Walking four blocks may have been overkill, but we did it. And they were long blocks. We finally saw the spinning horses, and heard the gleeful riders. We watched for long enough to get good pictures and short videos, and then we walked on, letting serendipity again guide us along the streets of Old Philly. We ran into another group from our class, and the groups merged. Together, we embraced the coincidence, and moved on with serendipity and impulse.

     Another change from the norm was the mode of transportation. This, however, made it harder for me to enjoy the trip. The extra travel time, and the nauseating rockiness of the one-car train ride led to added stress. I also felt less independent because I had never traveled on that line before. I found myself relying on sources like my group mates and the descriptive YouTube video. I much prefer the septa. This particular separation from my reality did not lead to play.

     It was an unconventional trip; going into the city with no real plans, but I think it worked because it was so far out of the realm of the usual. By embracing the spontaneity of just about everything we did, we were able to collectively escape reality, and critically play in the city.

Work cited

Flanagan, Mary. Critical Play: Radical Game Design. Cambridge, MA: MIT, 2009. Print.