Dr. Matta reminds us that climbing a tree is not merely a physical feat; it is a profound neurobiological exercise. Children standing at the base of an oak tree, must decide and assess their environment independently before they climb.
President’s Message
By: Mark Matta, DO, DFAPA
Climbing Trees
As we welcome the lush, vibrant summer months across Pennsylvania, a familiar seasonal shift occurs. The structured days of the academic year dissolve, leaving a sprawling canvas of free time for our children and adolescents. Yet, as mental health professionals, we are acutely aware that this canvas is increasingly painted over by the relentless glow of digital devices and the rigid itineraries of highly organized summer programs. As President of the PA Psychiatric Society, I want to take this opportunity to advocate for a return to a fundamental, though rapidly fading, pillar of childhood development: unstructured, risk-taking play.
In our field, we value free association as a therapeutic pathway, allowing thoughts to organically connect without the constraints of logic or expectation. Children desperately need a physical equivalent of this free association. When left to their own devices—without smartphones, without coaches, and without hyper-vigilant adult choreography—children learn to interact with their physical environment in deeply creative ways. They invent games with fluid rules, build makeshift forts from fallen branches, and let their imaginations wander without a pre-programmed digital narrative dictating their every move.
Crucially, this unorganized play must involve an element of risk. Climbing a tree is not merely a physical feat; it is a profound neurobiological exercise. When a child stands at the base of an oak tree, they are forced to assess their environment independently. They must calculate which branch can bear their weight, navigate the visceral fear of heights, and experience the autonomous exhilaration of problem-solving.
From a neurodevelopmental perspective, navigating manageable physical risk is paramount. The prefrontal cortex—the seat of executive functioning, emotional regulation, and decision-making—thrives on these organic challenges. By engaging in risky, unstructured play, children develop self-efficacy and emotional resilience. They learn that they can fall, sustain a scraped knee, and get back up.
Conversely, when we insulate children entirely, we deprive their developing brains of the friction required for healthy growth. Whether we confine them to perfectly sanitized playgrounds or allow them to retreat into the frictionless, low-risk dopamine loops of digital gaming, we are doing them a disservice. In the digital realm, a mistake simply requires
hitting “respawn.” In the physical world, navigating a misstep builds true grit and teaches a child the actual limits and capabilities of their own body.
As practitioners serving communities from Pittsburgh to Philadelphia, we have an authoritative voice and a unique clinical platform. I urge you to use your sessions this summer to have candid conversations with parents and caregivers. Encourage them to embrace the uncomfortable quiet of a child’s boredom, for boredom is the fertile soil from which imagination springs. Counsel them that while preventing catastrophic injury is obviously important, developmental safety requires letting go just enough to allow for a few bruised knees and wounded prides. As Dr. Jonathan Haidt author of “The Anxious Generation” states, we need to “keep them as safe as necessary, not as safe as possible.”
This summer, let us collectively prescribe less screen time, fewer organized leagues, and more unstructured time in the woods, backyards, and parks of our beautiful state. Let’s encourage our young patients to get outside, free associate with the natural world, and climb a few trees.