Okay, I’m definitely not a parent and I don’t claim to be an expert on kid spaces, but something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately is how kids growing up in cities today are getting even less connection to nature than I did. And that’s saying something, considering I spent most of my childhood indoors playing video games.
I grew up in a pretty typical Atlanta suburb – nothing fancy, but at least we had trees on the street, a backyard, and I could walk outside whenever I wanted. My mom had her little garden that I mostly ignored as a kid. I took all of that completely for granted. But now, living in this tiny Chicago studio with basically no natural light, I realize how much access to nature is actually a privilege that depends on where you live and how much money your family has.
The whole reason I got obsessed with plants and bringing nature into my apartment was because I felt so disconnected from anything green or growing during the pandemic. And I’m an adult who chose to live this way. I can’t imagine what it’s like for kids who are stuck in small apartments or neighborhoods with no green space, especially when they don’t have any choice in the matter.
**Why Kids Need Nature (And Why That’s Harder in Cities)**
I’ve been reading about this thing called “nature-deficit disorder” – it’s not a medical diagnosis, but Richard Louv talks about it in “Last Child In The Woods” as a way to describe what happens when kids don’t get enough time outside. Basically, all the behavioral and attention issues that seem to be getting worse as kids spend more time indoors and on screens.
Growing up, even though I wasn’t particularly outdoorsy, I still had access to nature in ways I didn’t appreciate at the time. Playing in puddles, collecting weird rocks, watching clouds, hearing actual birds instead of just car horns and sirens. Those experiences shaped how I think about the world, even if I didn’t realize it then.
The thing is, when you’re living in affordable housing in cities, you often don’t have access to quality outdoor spaces. The apartment buildings are designed to pack as many units as possible into small spaces, which means tiny windows, no outdoor access, and communal spaces that are basically parking lots. Kids in these situations are getting way less nature exposure than kids in suburbs, and that’s not fair.
**Schools Trying to Make It Work**
Some schools are doing really interesting things with biophilic design – basically bringing natural elements into spaces where kids spend most of their day. I’ve seen Instagram posts from schools in places like Finland and Denmark where they’ve figured out how to blur the lines between indoor and outdoor learning.
These aren’t fancy private schools – they’re regular public schools that have prioritized natural light, plants, and outdoor learning spaces. Huge windows, living walls, materials like wood instead of plastic everything. Kids learn outside when weather permits, and even when they’re inside, they can see trees and sky instead of just concrete walls.
I’m not an educator, but from what I’ve read, kids in these environments show better concentration, less anxiety, and more creativity. Which makes sense – when I added plants and better lighting to my apartment, I felt way less depressed and could actually focus on work.
The problem is that schools in lower-income areas often don’t have the budget or administrative support to make these changes. So again, access to nature-friendly learning environments becomes about what neighborhood you live in and what your parents can afford.
**Playgrounds That Actually Work With Nature**
Traditional playgrounds are kind of terrible when you think about it – just metal equipment on rubber mats or concrete. Hot in summer, no shade, nothing growing. I remember thinking playgrounds were boring by the time I was like eight because there was nothing to discover or explore.
But I’ve seen photos of these incredible nature-based playgrounds that use logs, rocks, streams, plants – basically turning play areas into mini ecosystems. Kids can build forts with branches, balance on fallen logs, explore actual biodiversity instead of just going down the same slide over and over.
There’s this playground in Norway that I saw on Reddit where you honestly can’t tell where the forest ends and the playground begins. Kids are learning about their local environment while they play, developing problem-solving skills, using their imagination in ways that plastic play structures don’t really encourage.
The challenge is that these types of playgrounds require more maintenance and community buy-in. Someone has to tend the plants, replace natural materials as they break down, deal with seasonal changes. In communities where people are already stretched thin working multiple jobs, that can be a hard sell.
**Real Talk: The Obstacles**
When our building was working on the rooftop garden project, we ran into so many unexpected issues. Allergies were a big one – some residents had kids who reacted to certain plants we’d chosen. We had to research which varieties were safe, figure out drainage so we weren’t creating mosquito breeding grounds, deal with weight restrictions on the roof.
Safety is always a concern when you’re mixing kids with natural elements. Maintenance is expensive. Making sure spaces are accessible for kids with different abilities takes planning and money. And in lower-income communities, there are always competing priorities for limited resources.
The other issue is that a lot of biophilic design examples you see online are from wealthy areas or private schools with big budgets. It’s great inspiration, but it doesn’t help much when you’re trying to figure out how to bring nature into a Title I school or a public housing development.
**Community-Based Solutions**
The most successful projects I’ve seen happen when communities are actually involved in the planning and maintenance. Our rooftop garden works because residents volunteered to help design it, maintain it, and deal with problems as they come up.
I’ve read about school gardens where parents and community members help with planting and upkeep. Neighborhood groups that advocate for better playground equipment and green space in parks. Community organizations that run outdoor education programs for kids who don’t have access to nature through their schools or families.
These grassroots approaches take longer and require more coordination, but they’re more likely to actually serve the kids who need them most. And they address the reality that bringing nature into kids’ spaces isn’t just about design – it’s about ongoing community investment.
**What This Actually Looks Like**
Some children’s hospitals are incorporating healing gardens and outdoor spaces because they’ve figured out that exposure to nature actually helps with recovery. Schools are creating outdoor classrooms and indoor environments that feel less institutional.
But the most promising stuff I see is community-driven. Residents turning vacant lots into pocket parks. Parent groups fundraising for school gardens. Neighborhood organizations creating nature-based programming in whatever outdoor space they can access.
It’s not about creating Pinterest-perfect spaces – it’s about giving kids regular access to growing things, natural light, outdoor air, and environments where they can explore and discover.
**Moving Forward**
I don’t have kids, and I’m definitely not qualified to design educational spaces. But I do know what it feels like to be disconnected from nature and how much better I felt when I found ways to bring it into my living situation, even with major constraints.
The conversations happening around biophilic design for kids’ spaces need to include voices from communities that don’t have access to fancy design solutions. Parents living in public housing, teachers in underfunded schools, community organizers working in neighborhoods without green space.
If you want to learn more about this stuff, Richard Louv’s books are a good starting point. “School’s Out: Lessons from a Forest Kindergarten” is a documentary that shows what’s possible. There are organizations working on green schoolyards and nature-based education that could use support.
Making sure kids have access to nature shouldn’t depend on their zip code or their parents’ income. But right now, that’s mostly how it works. The design solutions exist – the challenge is making them available to everyone.
Robert is a retired engineer in Michigan who’s spent the past few years adapting his longtime home for accessibility and wellbeing. He writes about practical, DIY ways to make homes more comfortable and life-affirming as we age — from raised-bed gardens to better natural light.
