Raising Kids on a Military Base? Surprise!

Samantha Gassman – Sam — is an Air Force veteran, military spouse, and mom of three who writes about the military transition, military spouse employment, PCS life (a.k.a. relocating), and the hidden systems military families learn to navigate along the way. Her Substack is here, her website is here, and her observations about raising kids on a military base are right here! 

After years of living in civilian neighborhoods, our move onto a military installation gave my kids something I hadn’t realized they were missing: a neighborhood where independence is normal.

By Samantha Gassman

I am an Air Force veteran and military spouse currently living on a military base in Wyoming. Since moving here, I’ve noticed an interesting phenomenon: a return to childhood independence.

Military life asks a lot of kids. We move. A lot. My 8-year-old has already moved seven times across six states. Military children repeatedly leave friends, schools, teachers, and communities behind. Every two to three years, families rebuild their lives somewhere new. Kids learn early that houses, schools, and even the friends they see every day can change.

In a couple of years, the military will send our family somewhere else, and we’ll start over again.

And yet, in at least some military communities, this lifestyle also gives kids something increasingly rare.

Here, it’s completely normal for children to play outside more or less unsupervised.

Groups of kids on bikes and scooters ride around the neighborhood, go to the playground, and start pickup games. They knock on doors to see who can play, wander from yard to yard, and come home when they’re hungry, thirsty, hurt, or desperately in need of some obscure object required for whatever game they’ve invented.

And the adults mostly let them.

I’m not sure if parents feel comfortable because we’re protected by gate guards and military police, or because military communities make us more comfortable trusting our neighbors. Maybe it’s both.

At first, I was the one looking around quizzically at other parents, asking, “Are we all okay with this?”

After hearing repeatedly, “Yes, my kids ride around here all the time,” and “Yes, all the kids go to the park on their own,” I realized I had to face my own discomfort and let go of my own anxieties.

After a while, it started to feel normal.

I wonder how much of the decline in childhood independence is driven not by parents believing their kids are incapable, but by living in communities where nobody wants to be the first parent to let go.

When five kids are already riding bikes down the street, sending yours out to join them doesn’t feel reckless. The social norm shifts, and pretty soon, there are kids everywhere.

Some of my fondest childhood memories are from long summer days that were mine to shape. I could draw, listen to music, play with my brother and our neighbors, or just sit and pet my dogs.

No one was trying to make the time productive. No adult was standing nearby trying to improve our game, settle our disagreement, or turn whatever we were doing into a “learning opportunity.”

We were just kids. Putting on plays. Kicking a ball around. Making things up.

The playing was the learning.

As a parent, I want to give my children those same opportunities: to explore their interests and be curious without an adult lingering nearby with a time-boxed calendar.

So when I see my two oldest, ages 8 and 6, outside with friends figuring out how to catch a grasshopper, trading Pokémon cards, or creating little cartoons, I feel no need to step in.

More importantly, I feel grateful that here, on base, I can step back without feeling pressure or judgment from those around me.

Independent play gives them opportunities I can’t manufacture through an organized activity. They learn to join a group, get bored and invent something to do, try something, fail, feel uncomfortable, adjust, and try again.

My youngest is 3, so her radius of independence is smaller. I hope that as she grows, she’ll have her own adventures, friendships, and places to explore.

In the meantime, I get to watch my kids disappear down the street on their bikes with a roving pack of semi-feral neighborhood kids.

I get to hear about the bugs they caught, the games they invented, the arguments they had, and the problems they solved without me.

And yeah, sometimes I worry about whose month’s supply of chicken nuggets they’ve decimated. Or whether they’re experimenting with “alternative” gardening techniques in the base commander’s roses.

But mostly, I am so glad they get to have the experience… of being kids.

Let Grow here: If you’d like your kids to have more adventures and freedom, please check out our Let Grow Community Toolkit. We’ve got all sorts of ways for you to find and band together with other families  to let your kids go – and grow!