Playground Power Plays
By Ross Scafidas

Picture the world as one big playground at recess — a colorful jumble of kids, toys, and the occasional tantrum…

Donald: The Self-Proclaimed Coolest Kid in the Yard

Meet Donald, a loud kid in a bright red cap who firmly believes he’s the main character of this playground story. He’s determined to make sure he is the coolest, richest kid around — and he’ll tell anyone who’ll listen. Donald struts around boasting about his awesome toys and huge stash of candy (after all, his family gives him the biggest allowance in the whole school ). If there’s a new game, he demands to go first. If there’s a club, he has to be the president. In Donald’s mind, the playground sort of revolves around him.

Despite his bluster, Donald isn’t actually a fan of full-on fights unless he thinks they’re absolutely necessary. Sure, he’ll shout and shove in the lunch line (throwing around threats of a food fight), but he’s hesitant to start a real brawl. He’d much rather everybody know he could win a fight than actually have to prove it. He even prides himself on a record of “no new fights started on my watch”, bragging to the other kids that he kept the peace (mostly) during his turn as class monitor. When smaller troublemaker kids act up — say, one kid in the corner playing with firecrackers (looking at you, Kim) — Donald tries a bit of tough talk, but he’s also the type to invite that kid for a one-on-one chat behind the slide to strike a “deal.”

In the sandbox drama, Donald’s style is “ His turf first”. He’ll share toys only if he gets something better in return, and he’s been known to take his ball and go home if he feels cheated. (Climate club game? Unfair . he’s out. New rules he doesn’t like? He’ll tear them up.) But for all his chest-thumping about being the coolest, Donald oddly craves approval. He wants the other kids to admire him ,or at least respect his dominance. He’ll avoid a fistfight, but he won’t hesitate to push the rules: cutting deals at the lemonade stand, making side agreements with the school bully, whatever it takes to keep him on top. In short, Donald is that kid who talks big, struts bigger, and is determined that no matter what, his team wins and his flag flies highest.( he has been spotted pulling the odd ponytail too!)

Vladimir: King of the Sandbox Tantrums

Over in the corner is Vladimir, who rules a sandbox like it’s his personal kingdom. Vlad (as the other kids carefully call him) has a bit of a possessive toddler streak. He’s been playing in that sandbox since forever, and he does not like other kids creeping toward his territory. When the neighboring kids (let’s call them the “NATO gang”) started inching closer, joining forces and building sandcastles nearer and nearer to Vlad’s fence, he began to fume. In fact, over the years 16 new kids joined that rival club after his old gang fell apart , and to Vlad it feels like they’re trespassing on his turf. Every time another kid wanders over to join the NATO friends circle, Vladimir basically sees red (and not just on his flag).

Like a true sandbox czar, Vladimir reacts to encroachment with theatrical tantrums. If someone even touches a toy near his side of the yard without permission, he’ll snatch it or smash it rather than let them have it. When a smaller kid named Ukraine talked about hanging out with the NATO gang, Vlad went and grabbed one of Ukraine’s favorite toys (a nice shiny shovel called Crimea) to make a point. He’ll shove, kick sand, and throw punches (literally, in Georgia and Ukraine’s cases) to keep what he thinks is “his” part of the playground safe from outsiders. Other kids whisper that Vlad’s acting like a bully who can’t share, but from his view he’s the victim ,a poor kid whose play area keeps getting shrinking because those NATO kids “promised not to come over here” (a promise the NATO kids insist they never really made).

Vlad also has a long memory. He remembers when his family (the old Soviet gang) used to dominate half the playground. Ever since that gang broke apart, he’s been a bit grumpy watching former pals make new friends. So now, he’s laser-focused on guarding his sandbox border. He’s built a little toy fort and draws a line in the sand, effectively saying “Mine! Keep out!” to anyone who approaches. And if the playground supervisors (like the UN teacher) tell him to calm down, Vlad just crosses his arms and insists he was provoked. In our dysfunctional playground family, Vlad is the moody middle child who hates sharing and might flip the whole table (or sandbox) if he doesn’t get his way.

Xi: The Quiet Kid Building a Mega Slide

On the other side of the yard is Xi, the quiet, strategic kid from China who doesn’t get into shouting matches but is always up to something big. While Donald is busy showboating and Vlad is jealously guarding his sandbox, Xi is busy building the biggest and best playground equipment anyone’s ever seen. He’s got blueprints for a giant slide that loops around the entire school, a network of swings and tunnels connecting every corner of the playground, and even a cool treehouse for secret meetings. This grand project is known around the yard as the “Belt and Road Initiative” — though the kids just think of it as “Xi’s super amazing play set.” Quietly and methodically, Xi has been constructing this for a while now, installing new pieces bit by bit. By now, his play set extends through over 150 different spots where kids hang out , and everyone is at least a little tempted to try it out.

Unlike Donald, Xi isn’t loudly bragging about his masterpiece — he’d rather let the shiny new equipment speak for itself. He’s the kind of kid who offers you a ride on his brand-new swing, maybe even shares some candy, and in return you’re expected to play by his rules on his turf. One by one, other kids are convinced to play on Xi’s equipment because, well, it’s the biggest and newest game in town. Need a new seesaw in your yard? Xi will build you one (he’ll even pay for it!) and all you have to do is promise to be his friend. It’s a sweet deal… at least until you realize you kind of owe him favors later, like supporting him in the school election or giving him access to your lunch snacks. But hey, by then you’re already having fun on the slide.

Xi’s strategy is slow and steady: win friends and influence playmates by offering them cool stuff instead of picking fights. He’s not flashy on the surface , often sitting quietly with a polite smile , but behind that calm exterior, he’s keeping track of everything. He knows which kid likes what candy, who needs a new ball, and he’s ready to make a trade that benefits his agenda. Some of the more cautious kids whisper that Xi’s mega slide might come with strings attached (like, “play with me or you can’t use the slide”), but many can’t resist at least a quick turn. In the grand family drama of the playground, Xi is the clever cousin who doesn’t raise his voice at the dinner table ,he’s too busy quietly rearranging the seating chart to his advantage.

Euro: The Exhausted Babysitter Everyone Ignores

Watching over this unruly crew (or at least trying to) is Euro, the overworked babysitter or peacekeeper on the playground. Euro — is constantly intervening with a tired smile: “Now children, play nice…let’s use our indoor voices…no grabbing!” She sets rules for fair play, organises group activities like climate change pledges or trade agreements, and honestly just want everyone to share the sandbox peacefully. The problem? The rambunctious kids often ignore the babysitter completely.

Euro tries hard to keep the peace. She comes armed with principles and paperwork: a rulebook of international law, peace treaties for conflicts, offers of cookies (trade deals) if everyone behaves, and time-outs (sanctions) for the naughtiest kids. In fact, Euro’s strategy for calm can be summed up as:
• Setting Playground Rules- She loves her resolutions!
• Mediating Quarrels: When Donald and Xi start sniping over who has the better toy, or when Vlad shoves a neighbor, Europe steps in with “Let’s talk this out over a cookie, okay?”
• Scolding and Pleading: Euro isn’t as strong physically as the biggest kids, but boy can she lecture. She reminds everyone about “the rules we all agreed on,” wags a finger at infractions, and occasionally threaten to tell the teacher if things get worse.
She also loves group projects: eg Paris Climate Agreement et al

The trouble is, while Euro means well, the playground all-stars often tune out these well-intentioned lectures. Donald rolls his eyes and focuses on his own game, Vlad openly mocks the babysitter behind her back, and Xi nods politely but carries on as he pleases. Euro sometimes feels like the exasperated parent at a chaotic family dinner: wiping spills, breaking up fights, and getting zero thanks for it. She warns Vlad “stop or you’ll get a timeout!” ( which he mostly shrugs off) and she urges Donald “please don’t leave the table” (when he goes back on an agreement, for example). Occasionally Euro scores a small victory — persuading everyone to agree to a small pact ,but enforcement is a nightmare. In this dysfunctional family playground, Euro does her best to referee, but more often than not ends up muttering “I’m too tired for this shit” while the chaos.
After all the squabbling, one would think these kids could never get along. But funny enough, whenever the teacher (let’s call her Ms. UN) isn’t looking, the biggest troublemakers sometimes huddle together for secret chats. It’s like an unofficial club meeting under the old oak tree at the edge of the playground. In whispers and code words, they start sketching out a sneaky deal.An informal pact to divide the playground into spheres of influence – just like their grandparents did in 1945. They figure if they each control their own corner, maybe they can pretend to play nice (and stop giving the babysitter a migraine).

In this covert playground summit, Donald, Vlad, and Xi size up the yard and stake their claims. Donald insists on holding onto the prime real estate – the big swing set in the middle and all the coolest hangouts (he calls it “freedom and democracy zone,” but really it’s where his buddies are). Vladimir demands everyone acknowledge his exclusive rights to the sandbox and a buffer of space around it — no more kids from that side of the street meddling there. Xi quietly marks out the areas connected by his shiny new equipment; if you’re using his slide or his monkey bars, you’d better not let Donald or Vlad dictate the rules there. They nod in agreement that each big kid gets their sphere of influence: a piece of the playground where they’re the boss.

So what happens next?

On the surface, this informal playground pact looks civil enough. The big kids even shake hands (probably with fingers crossed behind their backs). They assure the weary babysitter, “See? We’re cooperating now, all good!” and they might even pose for a nice group photo at the school assembly, smiling like they’ve become best friends. But as any seasoned playground observer (or family therapist) knows, the drama is far from over. The moment the teacher’s back is turned, these kids go right back to stealing each other’s toys and pulling pranks in secret. Donald will slyly encourage Xi’s playmates to ditch the new slide and come back to his team. Xi will lend Vlad a fancy shovel on the side, expecting a favor in return later. Vlad will quietly scheme to poke holes in Donald’s football when no one’s watching. Each promises to stay in their lane, but each just can’t resist testing the boundaries when the opportunity arises.

All told at the end of the day, we’re all stuck on this playground together ,so perhaps we’d better find a way to get along before the recess bell rings for the 3rd time.
#randomstuff #nonfiction #randomcuriosities #politics