Boundaries need not apply: playgrounds are exceeding the Americans with Disabilities Act's guidelines on accessibility.

bound*less (adj.): having no boundaries or limits; vast; infinite.

It was a typical day at the playground by most accounts--kids were swinging, playing and happy to have something new to try out. Parents Amy and Peter Barzach watched their two young sons, Daniel and Jonathan, navigate the new setting. The whole family was happy to be out of the house.

But as Amy looked around, she noticed an atypical sight--a little girl at the edge of the playground with tears in her eyes. She was in a wheelchair, and couldn't participate in the fun. Although Amy and Peter wondered what they could do for her, it wasn't until their own tragedy hit that they soon realized how the image of that little girl would affect them.

A few months later, the Barzachs' youngest son Jonathan was diagnosed with a rare neuromuscular disease and died shortly afterward. Struck with grief, the Barzachs sought an outlet to express their emotions through a project dedicated to their son. They instantly thought of that excluded little girl on the playground, and what Jonathan might have experienced had he grown up in a wheelchair. It spurred them to action, and set them to work on creating a more inclusive playground.

After spending nearly two years fundraising for the $350,000 needed, the idea for a "boundless" playground became reality in 1996. After Time magazine published an article about the Connecticut-based playground that same year, hundreds of requests poured in, asking the Barzachs for their help to create these barrier-free playgrounds in communities across the United States. The positive response prompted the couple to form the National Center for Boundless Playgrounds in 1997. Since then, the nonprofit group has helped build 73 boundless playgrounds in 20 states and one Canadian province, with more projects developing everyday.

What makes boundless playgrounds different from regular ones is that they up the inclusion factor. A playground built to the Americans with Disabilities Act's (ADA) guidelines will only have 50 percent of its elevated decks accessible, mostly through transfer decks. This level of accessibility forces a person in a wheelchair to abandon his or her equipment in order to participate. The playground also must allow a child in a wheelchair to access 25 percent of the elevated elements.

While this may satisfy the minimum requirements for people with disabilities, the designers behind boundless playgrounds want to do better. Tiffany Harris, co-founder and executive director of a California-based boundless playground organization, says that many park and recreation directors think that ADA guidelines equal accessibility. "That is a fair assumption to make, but ADA really just gives the minimum for accessibility," she says. "We build to the spirit of the law, not to the letter of the law."

Boundless playgrounds allow children in wheelchairs to play on 70 percent of the equipment available. Unlike ADA-accessible playgrounds, this access is given without forcing the person with a disability to leaving his or her equipment behind. It also uses creative thinking when incorporating ground-level play elements, and moves them up to chair level. For example, most boundless playgrounds include an elevated sand table where kids in a wheelchair can build sandcastles.

But the boundless concept doesn't just apply to people with mobility issues--designers have worked to also include sensory play equipment to allow children who have a vision or hearing disability to be involved. Designers create colored paths that make noises as kids jump, roll or step on them. They also have discovered that children with developmental disabilities, such as Down syndrome, benefit from balancing activities, and have added those elements to most play environments.

The real goal of boundless playgrounds is to create an environment where children with disabilities can play alongside their peers. Boundless playgrounds will many times include elements such as stepping blocks placed next to a ramp to allow children who are able bodied and with special needs to play together. At a boundless playground in Los Angeles, creators painted a pathway to look like a racetrack--children in wheelchairs will race their able-bodied friends who are using scooters or skates.

The response to this type of creative play equipment has been overwhelming in most cases. In St. Mary's County, Maryland, therapeutic recreation specialist Christina Bishop was looking for an inclusive playground to add to the county's growing list of community offerings. After being chosen from 30 different organizations to receive a $75,000 grant from the state, work began to design the High Hopes Playground in Lancaster Park. To involve the community, the park and recreation department asked children in various summer camps what they wanted from the new playground, and also held planning parties to discuss ideas for elements.

Bishop knew the innovative playground would be a hit, but she didn't expect the kind of reaction it caused in the community. "The community loves it," she says. "I take summer camps there and I know that they are playing together." Bishop recalls the time when a member of the park and recreation department was in the hospital, and told her nurse about the new playground. "The nurse just started crying and said that her child can now play like other kids," Bishop says. "It still gives me goose bumps."

In California, Catherine Curry-Williams and Scott Williams experienced the same kind of emotion at the grand opening of the boundless playground they created in memory of their son, Shane. Shane's Inspiration opened in Los Angeles with help from Harris, who has known Curry-Williams for more than 20 years. Like the Barzachs, the Williams lost their son to a muscular disease at a young age. Once they heard the story of boundless playgrounds through a support group, they wanted to create the same type of playground on the West Coast.

Starting with no money, Harris and Williams began fundraising by hosting 5K races, holding galas and submitting grant proposals to local philanthropy groups. Eventually, they raised the $850,000 needed to build the 80,000-square-foot boundless playground.

Harris says she's heard stories from parents who drive more than two hours to bring their children to Shane's Inspiration. "We always knew what the impact would be on families who have children with special needs, but we didn't know the impact we would have on able-bodied children," Harris says.

Overwhelmed by how many people in the community and the state were looking for a playground like this, the pair started an organization named after Shane's Inspiration that now provides programming, transportation and educational services to help promote unbiased play and accessible playgrounds.

Taking the boundless playground idea further, the organization will begin implementing a program in Los Angeles schools that helps promote disability awareness. The program asks able-bodied children to write their feelings down about children with disabilities. They are then paired with a special needs friend, play together on a boundless playground for two hours, and are then asked to discover what they can about their buddy. They return to the classroom and complete another writing assignment on their experience. Harris says the test results have been astonishing. In the first writing task, the participants of one classroom wrote the word "sad" about children with disabilities 90 times. In the writing assignment proceeding the play time, the word was only used five times.

"In the eyes of these students, the children [with special needs] went from sad beings to children with lives and something to share," Harris says. "These playgrounds help shift the bias and changes their lives from then on."

No one can argue that these boundless playgrounds are changing lives, but it doesn't come without cost. They can range in price from $65,000 to $1 million, which can seem like a lot of money to spend for a small community on one playground. The High Hopes playground in Maryland cost $215,000 to complete. Although Bishop says St. Mary's County had already set aside the money, the extra cost was worth every penny. In addition to adding accessibility, the boundless playground educates the park and recreation staff on accessibility, which Bishop says is priceless. "Now that we've learned about the process of how to make this kind of playground, our maintenance department can repair rubber surfacing because they learned so much," she says, adding that the park and recreation department staff is applying this knowledge in everything they do--from park path design and surfacing to constructing new playgrounds.

Harris agrees that the money can be tough to find, but it is a misconception that a small community cannot build boundless playgrounds. She says that towns can find a design to meet any budget, and that with local partnerships and state assistance, the project can become reality. "There is so much available out there as far as money," she says. "We started with no money, and were able to accomplish it."

What began as a memorial project to honor one son, has now turned into a nationwide movement to include as many sons and daughters in creative play as possible. With organizations like the National Center for Boundless Playgrounds and Shane's Inspiration, parents can look forward to more opportunities for able-bodied and special needs children in the years to come. "I can't imagine the loss of a child, but the legacy that these two women have created is amazing," Harris says.