The Power of Play
“Do not keep children (adults) to their studies by compulsion but by play.”
During a graduate study course that condensed a semester’s worth of work into three weeks of eight-hour days, we—as students—cracked. We became a good teacher’s nightmare. We disconnected, zoned out, and ‘served our sentence’. The professor recognized our shift from engaged and thoughtful students to something some educators would ignore. They, too, would just power through with lecture or lesson—serving the time but, in reality, serving no one. The professor turned to her disengaged audience and asked one of the most thoughtful questions I had ever heard an educator ask, one I would use over and over in my own classes: “We are in a rut. Anyone have any ideas on how to get out of it?” (Because we were adult grad students, she added, “That does not involve alcohol or skipping the rest of class.”)
Because this highly-skilled professor had developed relationships with her students and did not view them as just bodies within the room, but as companions in the learning journey, she was brave enough to acknowledge the breakdown in engagement and communication. As she reminded all of us, “Just because I’m teaching, does not mean you are learning.” Something different needed to be done.
As a mother of young children, along with snacks, Band-Aids, Neosporin, and extra sweatshirts, I kept sidewalk chalk and a big red ball (perfect for four-square) in the trunk of my car. I suggested our class give me just a few minutes to run to my car and chalk out a 16-square court for the 20 or so students in the class. Five minutes later, a chalk court was hastily drawn on the school’s parking lot. After a fellow teacher reminded our cohort of how to play a popular recess game that many had not played since their elementary school years, we began. We were moving our bodies, laughing, and joking together. We took 20 minutes of our class time and added immeasurable amounts of connection and joy.
As we returned to the classroom, recounting our prowess and failures on the court, we quickly settled in and committed to the lecture on academic research theories—Freire, Bloom, Skinner. That day was a reminder that no matter your age, play is essential.
I have often wondered why that particular group of adult students had so much fun, all while we worked so hard. We earned our Master’s degrees in one calendar year. In no way was the degree easy — we did not have any ‘throw away’ courses. We dug deep, read much, and wrote even more, but—on that day, when we were given permission to venture outside to tap into a world of play—we created a precedent. The cohort reputation was there; we were excellent students, bright, engaged, supportive of one another, and insistent that we add play to our lengthy classes.
Twenty minutes, a stick of chalk, one red ball, and a professor smart and brave enough to recognize something new was needed—and we totally changed the trajectory of our academic experiences and, ultimately, those of our own students, as well.