Play is a cornerstone of childhood development, promoting creativity, cooperation, and resilience. Scholars across planning, geography, and childhood studies emphasize that children’s play is not simply entertainment but an essential social practice that fosters skills of negotiation, adaptability, and community-building.1Roger Hart, Children’s Experience of Place (Irvington Publishers, 1979); Brendan Gleeson and Neil Sipe, Creating Child Friendly Cities: Reinstating Kids in the City (Routledge, 2006). In pre-modern and mid-twentieth-century urban contexts, the street often functioned as the primary playground, an informal, accessible, and unregulated space. Yet, as cities modernized, urbanization and motorization redefined the very structure of public life, systematically sidelining children from streets and limiting the opportunities for free play.2Lia Karsten, “It All Used to Be Better? Different Generations on Continuity and Change in Urban Children’s Daily Use of Space”, Children’s Geographies 3, no. 3 (2005): 275–290; Helen Woolley, “Freedom of the City: Contemporary Issues and Policy Influences on Children and Young People’s Use of Public Open Space in England”, Children’s Geographies 4, no. 1 (2006): 45–59.
Istanbul is a particularly vivid site in which to examine this transformation. Once a city alive with the spontaneous play of children, its streets have been reshaped by decades of urbanization, real estate speculation and infrastructural change. What happens to a city when its children can no longer claim the streets as their own? This question guides the present article, which explores the interplay of urban planning, memory, and childhood experience in Istanbul through the lens of the Etiler neighborhood (Figure 1).
Etiler is not just one neighborhood among many. Chosen deliberately as the case study, it embodies a hybrid trajectory: initially founded in the 1950s as a suburban cooperative project for state employees, it evolved into a prestigious upper-middle-class district by the late twentieth century. Its history captures many of the broader forces shaping Istanbul; state-led housing, suburban aspirations, rapid densification, privatization, and the commercialization of public life. At the same time, Etiler was characterized by abundant informal spaces; fields, slopes, and forest edges where generations of children developed play cultures that persisted until redevelopment displaced them. By focusing on Etiler, this study highlights how memory, play, and urban space intersect in a neighborhood that embodies both the promises and contradictions of modern Istanbul.
The analysis draws on three main sources: oral histories, site visits, and archival material. Between 2024 and 2025, I conducted twelve interviews with current and former residents of Etiler. Interviewees ranged in age from 42 to 82, with an equal balance of men and women. All had spent at least part of their childhood in the neighborhood, and their recollections focused on everyday play, neighborhood dynamics, and perceptions of spatial change. These oral histories were complemented by field visits to sites such as Çamlık, Nisbetiye Street, and the remnants of old play fields, as well as by photographic materials.
This mixed methodology allows for a textured reconstruction of street play across decades. Oral histories provide affective depth what spaces meant to residents and how they were used while photographs supply spatial grounding. Taken together, they reveal how Etiler’s streets and open areas served as vital stages for play, how these environments were reshaped by urbanization, and how memories of play persist as an enduring cultural reference even after spaces themselves have disappeared.
Historical Context (1950s–1970s): Streets as Playgrounds & Early Etiler
The story of Etiler begins in the mid-twentieth century, when Istanbul was undergoing its first great wave of modern urban transformation. The 1950s witnessed both the expansion of suburban residential projects and the penetration of automobiles into everyday life. Under Prime Minister Adnan Menderes, Istanbul was reshaped through massive infrastructure projects: boulevards were cut through historic districts, new bridges and roads were planned, and suburban housing projects were initiated to accommodate a growing middle class.3İlhan Tekeli, Modernizm, Modernite ve Türkiye’nin Kent Planlama Tarihi (Ankara: Tarih Vakfı Yurt Yayınları, (2009), 211–214.
Etiler emerged within this broader context. Etiler’s urban development began in the early 1950s with the establishment of the Etiler Housing Cooperative, conceived as a suburban enclave for state employees on the northern edge of Istanbul. Nestled between the forests of Rumeli Hisarı and the emerging commercial axis of Levent, the neighborhood offered both natural beauty and relative distance from the dense, chaotic city center. Initially characterized by low-rise homes built by Etibank employees, Etiler soon saw a surge of housing developments from various cooperatives, including star-shaped apartment blocks such as Basın Site and Uçaksavar Site, alongside multi-story complexes like Dilberzâde Site and the Istanbul University Professors’ Site, reflecting early ambitions for a balanced, livable urban environment.4Hakkı Göktürk, “Etiler Mahallesi,” İstanbul Ansiklopedisi, vol. 10 (1967): 5392–5393. One resident recalled:
The streets were practically ours. There were hardly any cars, so we used the slopes as our playground. We played ball, ran races, and invented games that spread across the entire neighborhood.5Interview with H.G., male, age 72, conducted in Etiler, May 2024.
In this setting, play was inseparable from space. The dirt roads became soccer fields; the slopes turned into makeshift sledding tracks in winter; and the vacant lots doubled as arenas for hide-and-seek or improvised sports. This pattern mirrored broader childhood experiences in Istanbul, where newly developing neighborhoods often had vast unregulated spaces that children appropriated for play.6Lia Karsten and Willem van Vliet, “Children in the City: Reclaiming the Street,” Children, Youth and Environments 16, no. 1 (2006): 151–167.
By the 1960s, Etiler’s cooperative housing had expanded, but the area retained much of its semi-rural character. Oral histories frequently refer to specific zones such as the Çamlık (Pine Grove) (Figure 2), the Şalgam Area, and the Alt/Üst Zerren, which became legendary play sites. These were not designed parks but neglected or in-between spaces that children claimed. The pine grove offered shade and the thrill of climbing trees; the Şalgam Field, with its uneven terrain, invited football games; and the Zerren sites served as meeting points for larger groups (Figure 3).
A striking feature of these memories is the improvised democracy of play. As one interviewee put it:”We had to make up rules and agree on them. It was like a democracy in action.”7Interview with S.K., female, age 68, conducted in Etiler, June 2024. Children not only played but negotiated, arbitrated disputes, and collectively organized games that might involve dozens of participants. In the absence of adult supervision and formal playgrounds, play itself became an exercise in community-building and self-regulation.
The 1970s brought subtle but important shifts. Etiler began to attract wealthier families, and new apartment buildings slowly replaced earlier garden houses. The neighborhood’s reputation as a prestigious address grew, especially after the construction of Nisbetiye Street as a commercial spine (Figure 4). Yet, in this decade, cars were still few enough that the street largely belonged to children. Oral histories recall lively scenes of marbles, hopscotch, and ball games unfolding on the asphalt, often halting only when an occasional car passed.
At the same time, the first pressures of urbanization were felt. Some open fields disappeared under new construction, and children were increasingly pushed into smaller pockets of play. Still, the 1970s are remembered by many as the “golden years” of Etiler play culture: a time when streets, slopes, and fields still supported spontaneous games, and when the sense of neighborhood intimacy was strong. These decades laid the foundation for Etiler’s distinctive play culture. The neighborhood was defined by in-between spaces; streets not yet dominated by traffic, slopes not yet built over, and fields not yet commodified. Children’s memories of these years testify to the importance of spatial looseness: it was precisely the unfinished, open-ended character of the neighborhood that allowed play to flourish.
By the early 1980s, Istanbul was entering a new phase of urban development. The liberalization policies of the Özal era, rapid population growth, and speculative real estate investment reshaped the city’s landscape. Etiler, once a semi-rural cooperative settlement, was drawn into this vortex of transformation. Its spacious gardens and open slopes were increasingly targeted for apartment construction, while new infrastructure integrated the neighborhood into the expanding metropolitan grid.8Murat Güvenç, “A Metropolis at the Crossroads: The Changing Social Geography of Istanbul under the Impact of Globalization,” in Of States and Cities: The Partitioning of Urban Space, ed. Peter Marcuse and Ronald van Kempen (Oxford University Press, 2002), 201–217.
Oral histories describe the 1980s as the decade when Etiler’s gardens began to vanish. Detached houses with generous plots gave way to multi-story apartment blocks. This shift profoundly affected children’s play. One resident recalled:
In the 1970s, we still had fields and slopes. By the 1980s, every year one of them disappeared. First a construction site, then an apartment. We lost the playgrounds one by one.9Interview with A.T., female, age 61, conducted in Etiler, May 2024.
For children, construction sites temporarily substituted for lost fields. Interviewees remember climbing scaffolding, playing hide-and-seek among concrete pillars, and racing across half-finished lots. Yet these were fleeting opportunities: as soon as buildings were completed, the spaces were closed off, privatized, or fenced.
Another defining feature of the 1980s and 1990s was the arrival of automobiles as permanent residents of the street. With rising incomes and expanding credit, car ownership increased dramatically across Istanbul.10Plan-bleu, Urban Mobility in Istanbul (2008), 33. Streets that once functioned as communal arenas for play were increasingly colonized by parked cars and through-traffic. One interviewee reflected:
We used to play ball in the middle of Nisbetiye Street. By the mid-1980s, it was impossible. Cars lined both sides, and there was no space left for us. Parents began to warn us: ‘Don’t go near the road.’ The street no longer belonged to children.11Interview with M.Y., male, age 53, conducted in Etiler, January 2025.
This change was not merely spatial but also cultural: the car became a symbol of prestige and mobility, and its presence carried an implicit message that children’s games were subordinate to adult circulation.
During the 1990s and 2000s, Etiler entered a new phase of gentrification that significantly reshaped its urban landscape. Formerly central open spaces, such as Etiler Field (now the site of Akmerkez) (Figure 5 and 6), Nisbetiye Field, and Philips Field, once served as venues for football matches, school events, and public celebrations. These communal grounds were gradually replaced by high-rise developments and commercial projects. The opening of Akmerkez in 1993 marked a turning point, as shopping malls and luxury apartment complexes began to redefine the neighborhood’s identity. Gated communities like Alkent, Sarı Konaklar (Figure 7), and Maya Sitesi introduced a privatized model of leisure: children now played in monitored playgrounds and sports courts, accessible only to residents, reflecting a broader shift toward exclusivity in urban life.
Municipal planning documents from the period emphasize infrastructural modernization; widening roads, improving transit connections, and facilitating high-density development yet little attention was given to preserving informal spaces for play.12Beşiktaş Municipality, İmar ve Şehircilik Müdürlüğü Raporu (Beşiktaş Belediyesi, 1995). The assumption seemed to be that play could be outsourced to malls, private clubs, or gated compounds.
For many families, this privatization produced stark inequalities. Wealthier children gained access to secure but enclosed playgrounds, while others were left with shrinking scraps of public space. As one resident observed, By the 1990s, play was no longer a neighborhood thing. It became fragmented. Some kids went to sports clubs, others just stayed home. We lost the sense of community that came from playing together on the street.” 13Interview with T.K., male, age 78, conducted in Etiler, January 2025.
Memory, Resistance, and Municipal Responses
The cheerful chorus of “Ayşe, pabucu yarım, çık dışarıya oynayalım” has been muted, not only by concrete and congestion but by urban policies that have systematically devalued informal public life and childhood presence in the streets.14Translation: “Ayşe, your shoe is torn – come outside and play!” Across Turkey, children who wanted to call their friends out to play, especially those with two-syllable names, would chant the playful phrase “Ayşe pabucu yarım, çık dışarıya oynayalım” adding their friend’s name at the beginning. It was a fun, familiar way to start a game. As Istanbul entered the twenty-first century, Etiler had already undergone profound changes. What had once been a suburban enclave of gardens and open fields was now a densely built-up district defined by luxury housing, shopping malls, and heavy traffic. Yet the memory of play continued to linger powerfully among residents. Oral histories reveal that even as physical opportunities for street play diminished, the cultural memory of childhood games persisted as a touchstone for neighborhood identity and intergenerational storytelling.As Istanbul entered the twenty-first century, Etiler had already undergone profound changes. What had once been a suburban enclave of gardens and open fields was now a densely built-up district defined by luxury housing, shopping malls, and heavy traffic (Figure 8). Yet the memory of play continued to linger powerfully among residents. Oral histories reveal that, even as physical opportunities for street play diminished, the cultural memory of childhood play persisted as a touchstone for neighborhood identity and intergenerational storytelling.
Residents interviewed between 2024 and 2025 frequently returned to the theme of lost landscapes. The Çamlık, once the site of endless games, is now overshadowed by apartment blocks. The Şalgam Area, where children improvised sports on rough terrain, has been built over. Nisbetiye Street, remembered as a site of hopscotch and ball games, is today choked with traffic. One interviewee remarked:
When I pass by Çamlık today, I see nothing of my childhood. But in my mind, I still hear the shouts, the running feet, the games we played there. It’s a strange feeling—the space has vanished, but the memory remains alive.15Interview with E.D., male, age 70, conducted in Etiler, January 2025.
This disjuncture between memory and urban form is not unique to Etiler but resonates with global debates about memory, nostalgia, and the erasure of childhood spaces in urban settings.16Karen Malone, “The Future Lies in Our Hands: Children as Researchers and Environmental Change Agents in Designing a Child-Friendly Neighbourhood,” Local Environment 18, no. 3 (2013): 372–395.
In recent decades, Istanbul’s municipalities have increasingly acknowledged the importance of children’s rights to the city. Following international frameworks such as UNICEF’s Child Friendly Cities Initiative, some districts; including Beşiktaş Municipality, which encompasses Etiler have introduced strategies to enhance children’s access to public space. Policy documents from the 2010s highlight investments in small neighborhood parks, playground equipment, and community sports fields.17Beşiktaş Belediyesi, 2020–2024 Stratejik Planı (Beşiktaş Belediyesi, 2020).
However, the oral histories collected suggest a persistent gap between policy and lived experience. While playgrounds have been installed, residents argue that these often fail to replicate the spontaneous, democratic character of earlier street play (Figure 9). One mother reflected:
Yes, there are playgrounds now, with slides and swings. But they are fenced, small, and standardized. Children play for a while, then get bored. It’s not like before, when the whole street was our playground.18Interview with N.A., female, age 42, conducted in Etiler, May 2024.
At the same time, large-scale redevelopment projects continue to reshape Etiler in ways that undermine child-friendly planning. The most controversial example is The Residences at Mandarin Oriental Etiler, a luxury high-rise complex whose construction in the 2020s replaced lower-density housing and further congested the area (Figure 10). Urban planners and residents criticized the project for ignoring the ecological and social character of the neighborhood, noting that it “overshadows surrounding low-rise buildings and deepens the privatization of space.”
Conclusion: Toward a Playable Neighborhood
The history of street play in Etiler illustrates a broader socio-spatial trajectory of Istanbul. From the 1950s onward, the neighborhood transformed from a semi-rural cooperative settlement into a densely built, high-income district, reflecting broader trends of suburbanization, real estate speculation, and infrastructural modernization (Figure 11). Across these decades, children’s access to public space evolved from unrestricted streets and open slopes to highly managed playgrounds and privatized recreational areas.
Oral histories collected in Etiler demonstrate that play was never just recreational: it was formative, social, and political. Children negotiated rules, resolved disputes, and learned communal responsibility in spaces that were not designed for them but which they collectively claimed. These practices exemplify Henri Lefebvre’s notion of the right to the city, in which inhabitants actively appropriate urban space to fulfill social and cultural needs, asserting claims beyond formal planning regimes.19Henri Lefebvre, “The Right to the City.” In Writings on Cities, edited and translated by Eleonore Kofman and Elizabeth Lebas (Blackwell, 1996), 147–159.
The transformation of Etiler also highlights the consequences of urban planning that prioritizes efficiency, real estate, and vehicular mobility over the needs of children. By the 1980s, densification, rising traffic, and privatization displaced informal play, producing a city where children’s presence in public life became increasingly invisible. This mirrors a global pattern in which neoliberal urbanism marginalizes unstructured, child-directed activities while emphasizing controlled, market-oriented alternatives.20Bengi Sullu, “Geographies of Children’s Play in the Context of Neoliberal Restructuring in Istanbul,” Children’s Geographies 16, no. 2 (2017): 1–15.
The resilience of play persists in two forms: first, as lived improvisation, where children continue to claim leftover or adapted spaces for recreation; and second, as memory, in which older residents preserve and transmit the cultural and emotional significance of street play. As one Etiler resident reflected: “Even if the space is gone, the games live on in our memories. We tell our children, and in that way, the streets remain ours, if only in story.”21Interview with C.K., male, age 77, conducted in Akaretler, January 2025. These narratives highlight that play is a vital barometer of urban health and social equity. The decline of street play reflects not only the physical transformation of neighborhoods but also the erosion of social ties, intergenerational interaction, and community-based negotiation skills.
Etiler’s trajectory offers lessons for contemporary urban planning. First, childhood presence must be considered in spatial design: streets, parks, and open spaces should allow for flexible, self-directed play rather than being entirely pre-programmed. Second, planning must balance density and mobility with accessible communal space, preventing the privatization and enclosure of the urban commons. Finally, memory and local knowledge through oral histories, community mapping, and participatory planning can guide the creation of spaces that reflect lived experience rather than top-down visions alone.
In conclusion, the story of Etiler illustrates the entanglement of childhood, urban form, and memory. Street play is not simply a nostalgic artifact; it is a living indicator of social and spatial justice. By understanding how children once inhabited and appropriated urban space, planners and policymakers can better design neighborhoods that sustain social cohesion, support creativity, and uphold the right of all children to inhabit the city. The challenge remains: how can Istanbul and cities like it reconcile the demands of modern urban growth with the enduring need for playful, child-friendly spaces? Etiler suggests that the answer lies not only in policy but in the recognition that children’s play is a fundamental claim on the city itself, one that must be defended, preserved, and nurtured for generations to come.
Notes
| ↑1 | Roger Hart, Children’s Experience of Place (Irvington Publishers, 1979); Brendan Gleeson and Neil Sipe, Creating Child Friendly Cities: Reinstating Kids in the City (Routledge, 2006). |
|---|---|
| ↑2 | Lia Karsten, “It All Used to Be Better? Different Generations on Continuity and Change in Urban Children’s Daily Use of Space”, Children’s Geographies 3, no. 3 (2005): 275–290; Helen Woolley, “Freedom of the City: Contemporary Issues and Policy Influences on Children and Young People’s Use of Public Open Space in England”, Children’s Geographies 4, no. 1 (2006): 45–59. |
| ↑3 | İlhan Tekeli, Modernizm, Modernite ve Türkiye’nin Kent Planlama Tarihi (Ankara: Tarih Vakfı Yurt Yayınları, (2009), 211–214. |
| ↑4 | Hakkı Göktürk, “Etiler Mahallesi,” İstanbul Ansiklopedisi, vol. 10 (1967): 5392–5393. |
| ↑5 | Interview with H.G., male, age 72, conducted in Etiler, May 2024. |
| ↑6 | Lia Karsten and Willem van Vliet, “Children in the City: Reclaiming the Street,” Children, Youth and Environments 16, no. 1 (2006): 151–167. |
| ↑7 | Interview with S.K., female, age 68, conducted in Etiler, June 2024. |
| ↑8 | Murat Güvenç, “A Metropolis at the Crossroads: The Changing Social Geography of Istanbul under the Impact of Globalization,” in Of States and Cities: The Partitioning of Urban Space, ed. Peter Marcuse and Ronald van Kempen (Oxford University Press, 2002), 201–217. |
| ↑9 | Interview with A.T., female, age 61, conducted in Etiler, May 2024. |
| ↑10 | Plan-bleu, Urban Mobility in Istanbul (2008), 33. |
| ↑11 | Interview with M.Y., male, age 53, conducted in Etiler, January 2025. |
| ↑12 | Beşiktaş Municipality, İmar ve Şehircilik Müdürlüğü Raporu (Beşiktaş Belediyesi, 1995). |
| ↑13 | Interview with T.K., male, age 78, conducted in Etiler, January 2025. |
| ↑14 | Translation: “Ayşe, your shoe is torn – come outside and play!” Across Turkey, children who wanted to call their friends out to play, especially those with two-syllable names, would chant the playful phrase “Ayşe pabucu yarım, çık dışarıya oynayalım” adding their friend’s name at the beginning. It was a fun, familiar way to start a game. |
| ↑15 | Interview with E.D., male, age 70, conducted in Etiler, January 2025. |
| ↑16 | Karen Malone, “The Future Lies in Our Hands: Children as Researchers and Environmental Change Agents in Designing a Child-Friendly Neighbourhood,” Local Environment 18, no. 3 (2013): 372–395. |
| ↑17 | Beşiktaş Belediyesi, 2020–2024 Stratejik Planı (Beşiktaş Belediyesi, 2020). |
| ↑18 | Interview with N.A., female, age 42, conducted in Etiler, May 2024. |
| ↑19 | Henri Lefebvre, “The Right to the City.” In Writings on Cities, edited and translated by Eleonore Kofman and Elizabeth Lebas (Blackwell, 1996), 147–159. |
| ↑20 | Bengi Sullu, “Geographies of Children’s Play in the Context of Neoliberal Restructuring in Istanbul,” Children’s Geographies 16, no. 2 (2017): 1–15. |
| ↑21 | Interview with C.K., male, age 77, conducted in Akaretler, January 2025. |
Aylin Kartal holds a PhD in History and Theory of Architecture from Yıldız Technical University in Istanbul. She is currently an Assistant Professor in the Department of Interior Architecture and Environmental Design at Istanbul Nişantaşı University. Her research and teaching encompass architectural theory and history, with a particular emphasis on modernism and the early twentieth century. She investigates how architectural practices, especially within early twentieth-century and modernist frameworks, shape the experiential and social dimensions of urban life, contributing to the understanding and enhancement of contemporary urban environments.
