Places should be for everyone: designing places for children and young people and why it makes life better for everyone

At edge we believe that places should be for everyone, and we instinctively know that great places bring joy to everyday moments. When we design with children and young people in mind, we don’t create places just for kids, we create places that are calmer, healthier, more welcoming, more resilient and more joyful for everyone!

In our recent post “We all need to play!”, Izzie made the case that play isn’t a kids-only activity, and that our public realm too often removes the permission to be playful unless you “pay to play”. And then in “Children in the Design Process”, Ella argued for something even more basic – if we’re shaping places for the long term, then children and young people deserve a real say because they experience the built environment differently, every day. This piece is the follow-on….what does that look like in practice? What should we design? How do we test it? And how do we avoid it being just a usual tick-box exercise?

I grew up with Swedish values, and two words that resonate with me when it comes to placemaking are:

Friluftsliv – literal translation “open-air life”; meaning a connection with nature and outdoor life as a normal part of everyday living, not a special treat.
Barnperspektiv – literal translation “child perspective”; meaning understanding a child’s point of view to make decisions with the goal of acting in the best interest of the child.

To sanity-check this, I asked my toughest critics – my children, Oscar and Emily. When they’re not at home, their favourite things to do are playing in the park and playing with friends. They love where we live because it’s “a very calm village” and their favourite place to go is Sweden (in particular, our holiday house on the west coast), because it “feels safe, there’s lots of space to run around and explore, and there are loads of woods”.

I also asked the wider edge team about childhood memories, frustrations, and the most child-friendly places they’ve visited. The themes were beautifully consistent with Oscar and Emily’s perspectives:

  • Fond memories about freedom – exploring woods, climbing trees, building camps, roaming with friends, and being trusted to go a bit further.
  • City memories were colourful – remembering the excitement of museums, hustle and bustle, public transport, and learning through movement.
  • Frustrations were mostly about access and independence – parks too far away from home, buses that didn’t connect, nowhere to go as a teenager and sports spaces where they felt excluded.
  • Child-friendly places were described very simply – safe, spacious, lots of nature, things to do, inclusion, and community.

That’s the brief, sounds simple! So why are there so many examples of this going wrong, and sometimes so very wrong?!

Here’s how we can translate it into design right from the outset in order to ensure we create places that are for everyone, making life better for everyone.

  1. Make safe and intuitive mobility the starting point, not the afterthought

If children can’t safely get to the places that matter, like school, parks, friends, and the corner shop, then we haven’t made a neighbourhood, we’ve made a collection of spaces and buildings.

We should therefore design:

  • Direct and obvious crossings where people actually want to cross, not where it’s convenient for vehicles;
  • Continuous footways, step-free routes, and safe junctions;
  • Safe cycle and scoot routes that don’t require bravery and constant supervision; and
  • Speed management that creates trygghet, that Swedish sense of everyday safety and calm.

This is where initiatives like School Streets can be genuinely transformative, alongside the integration of a hierarchy of streets that puts children’s daily movement first.

  1. Treat play as an everyday layer, not a fenced destination

In “We all need to play!”, Izzie wrote about permission. People play when a place feels welcoming, when it offers small invitations, so it’s vital we don’t make places feel judgemental.

When asked if they could design their dream place to live, Oscar and Emily didn’t ask for a compliant play area, they asked for the “biggest park ever, plus a water fountain”. To me that sounds like they are asking for a place that is fun, imaginative and playful. They want places that don’t limit sociability and foster a sense of community.

We should therefore include:

  • Playable edges including steps, low walls and seating you can climb on;
  • Loose, nature-based elements including logs, boulders, sand, and water;
  • Routes that are more than movement corridors including chalkable surfaces, small challenges, lots of colour, and art to inspire and interact with; and
  • Spaces that are flexible whilst offering freedom and choice.

Formal play equipment has its place, so this is about creating interventions where play is a choice that feels normal and natural.

  1. Build friluftsliv into the daily routine, not a nice to have

My kids love Sweden for the woods, the space and the freedom they feel when they are there, because outdoor life is baked into the everyday. Spending time in nature helps us feel happier and more connected. Being happier and more connected make us feel healthier. What’s not to like?! We can and should do more to remove the barriers.

At the heart of our designs we should therefore:

  • Put green and wilderness on the daily route including pocket parks, street trees, rain gardens and woodlands;
  • Connect homes to nature with safe, legible routes and a wider green infrastructure strategy; and
  • Provide for year-round use including shade, shelter, drainage and lighting.

This isn’t just nice to have, it’s a low-cost, high-impact way to support mental wellbeing, physical activity, and social connection.

  1. Design for teenagers, not against them

At every public consultation event that I have attended over the years, people’s frustrations about the lack of things to do for teenagers is always high on the agenda. If we don’t provide legitimate places for teenagers, they will still gather, just in spaces that are likely to spark conflict.

We should therefore design:

  • Sheltered seating, lighting, and places to be without needing to spend money;
  • Multi-use spaces that support hanging out and activity; and
  • Sports and games areas that are shared and welcoming.

Teenagers are the next generation of creators and decision makers, so we must allow them the spaces to support their identity development.

  1. Make inclusion the baseline, not the upgrade

Our ‘Made for Me’ winning entry to the NLA’s Reimagine London competition reiterated that “disability is the only club you can join overnight”. This is why it’s fundamental that places are for everyone and in order to achieve this, we need to ensure places are equitable, safe and provide dignity for all.

At edge, we therefore ask ourselves:

  • Are routes and surfaces usable, comfortable, and obvious?
  • Can children play together, not separately?
  • Is there a mix of stimulation and calm?
  • Does it work for everyone including disabled and neurodivergent children, carers, grandparents, pushchairs, wheelchair users?
  • Do the practicalities work?

This is jämlikhet, that foundational Swedish concept of equality and fairness. Places should be for everyone, so everyone’s needs should be considered and catered for.

Barnperspektiv as a method

In “Children in the Design Process”, Ella referenced the child-rights approach and the simple idea that child participation creates belonging and a point of view that is highly valuable. I stand by that! Children who feel heard are more likely to care for their place as they grow, and children that are consulted are likely to provide us with ideas and imagination that benefits everyone. Oscar and Emily have shown me that.

The goal is not child-friendly features, rather a place where children and young people can say: I feel safe, I belong, I can get there, I can play, I can breathe. And if we can achieve that, we create places that are truly for everyone!

Written by Sarah Murray