Summer means there are days I have the mental space and time to piddle around. For the non-southerners in the room, thesaurus.com says piddling is “to spend time in unimportant matters, to work in a trifling way.” Isn’t it ironic (Alanis Morissette) that something so unimportant and trifling is what most adults say they long for? Even when we do get extra time, it’s hard not to fight guilt for being unproductive. But that’s another issue entirely.
In August I will return to my original love, teaching kindergarten, so I’ve been thinking a lot about PLAY. It’s the work of being a child. As I grew into adulthood, I, like many people, left that idea behind as something that no longer served me. People who did continue to play I labeled “funny” with a quick eye roll because “that’s just how they are.” Adults should only think about important things, like careers and mortgages and recycling. What a cop out and a good way to keep joy just out of reach. (Note: I will be kind to myself by acknowledging various other complicated reasons I wasn’t worried about frivolity as a young person. Again, another issue.)
I began to notice a pattern in my own behavior, with the help of my annoying fun-loving husband. Anytime our family of 4 found ourselves in the same room, enjoying something together, making silly noises, wrestling, having mindless fun, I would inevitably slip away and take care of a pressing household task. Usually, it was something I had been waiting to do when the kids were occupied because we all know things take way longer with children. It never occurred to me it mattered very much until my husband asked me to be “more present.” Initially, I was not the open, teachable soul before you today because how dare him! Eventually, I listened to understand and agreed that togetherness can be a form of love, of sharing, of strengthening relationships, and opportunities for it can be rare. The silliness wasn’t just piddling or trifling, it was solidarity and affirmation. Since then, I’ve tried to be intentional with play. That sounds ridiculous, given the nature of what play really is.
Here is how I played today. I found the seashells we collected from the beach last summer because I have been longing to go back. Overriding my urge to keep a clean table, I spread them out, examining and turning each one over in my fingers. I was immediately filled with awe at their intricate beauty and gratitude for having access to something so wonderful. Then, almost intuitively, I began to sort them. White, gray, purple, large, heavy, small, flat, shiny—the ways to categorize seemed endless. After some time, I began combining shells to make cool designs. This made me think of art pieces I have seen in souvenir shops, created from found objects. My mind started working faster, and soon I found myself crafting a mobile of hanging oyster shells. When my playtime ended, I had no idea how long I had been sitting at the table. It was pure, mindless work that left my heart feeling full and, counterintuitively, my brain rested.
THIS. I want more of this and I want it year round. This is what I want my classroom to lend itself to. I feel the usual pressure I put on myself as an educator ease just a little, knowing I don’t have to have all the best ideas or perfect lesson plans. My job will be to provide space, time, and interesting materials, and stay present with my students. The rest will more than take care of itself because children’s brains are above and beyond amazing.
With the shells as my “blocks,” I naturally discovered lots of satisfying ways to play with them, some logical and some creative. I made connections to prior experiences and imagined new possibilities. I wish I had my own personal MRI machine to observe the different parts of my brain lighting up at various times. Actually, I find myself wishing that a lot as a teacher, especially working with neurodivergence. Taking time to think about play has resulted in me saying “yes” more frequently when my son asks me to play with him, or listening when my daughter shares more details than one would ever need to know about Roblox. I may have laughed at the fart noises my husband and kids made as we snuggled Saturday morning. Joy is right there, just within reach. It always is. Sometimes you have to actually pause wearing the big girl panties (britches? underwear? I’ve never cared for that word.) Joy and connection with those we love (including ourselves) is so worth it.
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Come over and play with me friend!
I can tell this one took work 🥹🥹❤️ So inspiring! In a fast moving world, too many people overlook the fulfillment of creativity.