Just Play: Inspiring Adult Play in Early Childhood Education

Introduction

Sometimes there comes a moment in life that changes everything you do and who you are. For me, that moment happened not too long ago. I begin this book by sharing a story that has propelled my personal and professional life. I call this story Chasing the ‘Best.’ Even though sharing this tale with readers is not easy, I think it illustrates how many of us have felt for a long time. By starting this book with this story, I hope that we can set forth a pedagogy of play and hopeful transformation.

Chasing the Best

My life has long been guided by the profound need and intense desire to please my family, community, writing partners, daughters, friends, and professors so that they would accept me for who I am. Basically, I needed to please the world. For a long time, I felt small. Even my voice was small; I spoke in a whisper. I wanted to be liked, so I compromised my being to please others. I believe this is something most of us tend to do. We follow, we agree, and we go along until something makes us realize that it is time to change.

Do you remember a time when you held back your voice, ideas, or desires so you would be accepted? Maybe when you were growing up, you wanted to blend in with the popular group in school. When we are continually looking for acceptance, we agree to many things we don’t accept or want for ourselves. Perhaps now is the time to be the unique person you are and let your voice soar.

For me, it got to the point that no achievement was enough, and no success or award nurtured me enough. In my mind, I had not reached the best. I lived with a constant pit in my stomach, an empty feeling I continuously needed to fill with unhealthy habits. I wanted the next best thing so badly because I wanted people to accept me and like me. I fell into despair, and I was emotionally wiped out. My life felt chaotic. I needed that acceptance so intensely that I sank lower and lower.

I became angry, and that anger manifested itself in unexpected moments. It was like an uncontrollable electrical charge. It burned me, and in the process, I burned others. It came out of blame, anxiety. It showed up in the destruction of my creativity and a feeling of profound desperation. I craved what other people had and wanted to be them. I imitated them and worked hard at it because, in my eyes, they were the best, better than me. However, it did not feel right. So, I leaped into presenting myself as larger than life, showing everyone that I was the expert who knew it all. Yet that did not feel any better. I was not showing my capacity for loving, caring, and giving. I stood tall but in anger. I saw the world as being out to get me. I took everything personally and became defensive. These emotions knocked me to my knees, and I cried in silence. I slept, ate, and basically self-destructed. I was in a chaotic pursuit to fulfill what everyone else told me was the best. I was not chasing my best.

In my worst moments, I often find solace in reading my favorite book, The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. I read this book often, and every time I find golden nuggets of wisdom and guidance. During a low moment when I was reflecting on what I needed to do to change my perspective, this particular quote caught my attention, All grown-ups were once children, but only a few remember it (Saint-Exupéry 2019, Kindle location 64). The simple, wonderful quote raced through my every neuron. I sprang out of my chair and said out loud, I have been given a powerful gift, and it is time to use it. I had seen this gift in my observations of children playing and my research and writings, and I had come to realize it is one of the most powerful things humans have: our innate instinct and powerful urge to play. When children play, they find joy—the exhilaration of each moment of discovery and the laughter that comes from deep inside their bellies. They go into a flow where their passion and interests take over and nothing else matters.

I realized that I had lost my urge to play. Thus, I had lost my joy, my passion, and my creativity. After this revelation, I sent my mind to my fondest memories when I was joyful and creative. I remembered the days I spent in my jewelry shop, playing with metals and watching in fascination as the fire from the torch fused them together. I remembered how I used to freely play, not looking for perfectly measured jewelry. Instead, I allowed the fire and my creativity to determine the final product. I knew I needed to reclaim that feeling.

As I continued to look for ways to reconnect with my creative and playful spirit, I brought out a collection of Loose Parts and spent days just playing, just being present in the process. I was not looking to learn or to discover a hidden message. I just wanted to play. As I played, I let go of expectations, I let go of fear, and I became present in my whole being. I had reclaimed the playful side of my personality—that part of me that finds joy and humor in life.

So many of us adults have lost the power of play, and I fear that we will push children to lose it too if we do not reclaim it. Play has become an important part of my life, and my search to develop a playful attitude will continue to guide my journey to chase my best. Now I come to embrace daily moments of play, and I allow myself to be joyful and fully present. I am still chasing the best, except this time, I am pursuing my unapologetic whole best—a best grounded in courage, vulnerability, gratitude, and playfulness.

This book is timely because it comes when education is in disequilibrium and perhaps ready for sustainable change. Disequilibrium (that moment when what you know is challenged by new knowledge or information) is essential to the process of creativity and innovation because it pushes us to find new solutions and keeps us striving to find our passions and pursue our dreams. Disequilibrium propels us to ask questions without fixating on finding specific answers because new information sparks our curiosity and keeps our interest engaged. Fortunately, this disequilibrium can lead us to moments of powerful insight, the aha! moments that emerge with passion and creativity.

Throughout this book, I plan not only to engage you in reflection but also offer possibilities to reconnect to your childlike characteristics. The ensuing boost in creativity and innovation increases our support for children’s right to play. This book offers a collection of tools, theories, ideas, and stories that I hope will support your efforts to play and rediscover your playful attitude. This book is designed to inspire and regenerate playfulness and creative leadership in all human beings who want to create a more playful pedagogy in their practices. They include educators, administrators, staff, community agencies, families, educational development companies, play therapists, educational franchise companies, coaches, directors of curriculum development and professional development, associations, and public and private educational entities.

The first chapters cover the research on adult play. I define the characteristics of play and the different play archetypes. I set a framework to deepen our understanding of adult play to help us create play ecosystems and change the culture of our organizations.

The second part of the book offers practical ideas you can implement in your organization. We start with redefining professional development to make it more playful while engaging staff in discovering their childhood genius. I walk you through steps to redesign the adult spaces in your program to elicit more play and playfulness. I then highlight a number of explorations and invitations to play both outdoors and indoors. I also offer ideas to rethink professional development conferences to break from the existing approach and increase opportunities to play and find joy.

Throughout the book, I remind us that play and playfulness are not forced or imposed. Instead, they require the thoughtful and intentional designing of a culture that embraces play and playfulness and invites people to find their whole best.

CHAPTER 1

A Call to Just Play!

We don’t stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.

— attributed to George Bernard Shaw

I want to share the gift of playfulness with you. I want to share the power of play so that you can give it to children and to others. I want you to chase your best and let go of expectations that say you need to fulfill outcomes dictated by society. I hope you can learn to trust that inner you. Most important, I want you to recapture your childhood genius. And I want you to give children the gift of play so that they can discover their passion and hidden genius. Children know their own best, and the role of adults is to trust that knowledge. But before we can allow children to be their best, we must find our own best selves in all its definitions, manifestations, and representations.

I ask:

•Are we pushing ourselves and our children to chase the best that is imposed on them?

•What are the long-term repercussions of that constant external push for the best?

•Can we change our perspective and accept the authentic best in ourselves and in each child?

As I started to explore the idea of bringing play back into adulthood, I came across the concept of neoteny, or the retention of childlike behaviors into adulthood. Neoteny allows an adult to grow young by nurturing qualities that maintain playfulness and youthfulness. When we are growing up, we want to shed our childlike behaviors and embrace a grown-up attitude. Perhaps this desire to morph is derived from our need and want to be accepted. In the book Growing Young, author Ashley Montagu discusses the significance of neoteny in our social development and retaining juvenile physical characteristics into adulthood: When this process is carried over from physical traits to behavioral patterns, human beings can revolutionize their lives and become for the first time, perhaps, the kinds of creatures their heritage has prepared them to be—youthful all the days of their lives (Montagu 1989, Kindle locations 75–77).

When we observe children, we see some characteristics that as adults we should aspire to embrace. Curiosity is high on this list because it leads to positive change through innovation, imaginativeness, playfulness, open-mindedness, willingness to experiment, flexibility, humor, energy, receptiveness to new ideas, honesty, eagerness to learn, and, perhaps the most pervasive and valuable of all, the need to love (Montagu 1989).

Play is crucial in adulthood because it fosters adaptiveness, creativity, role rehearsal (trying out new roles or possible careers), and mind-body integration. When adults engage in play and creative endeavors, they find their childlike center that cultivates happiness and joy. Play is affirming because it allows us to enter a natural, safe, and caring environment where we freely explore our inner thinking and desires. For example, I enjoy dressing up in different period costumes. I have created a persona that represents my personality but also challenges me and allows other traits to emerge. When I role-play, I begin to make sense of moments I am facing in my real life and I find more flexibility in my decision-making. Being in a playful and inspired flow, such as when we dance or engage in some sort of creative activity, allows us to cultivate happiness and joy. We discover new ways to make meaning in the world, and we also realize how liberating it is to let go of constraints.

If you ask me how I learned that play is essential, I could not give you a single answer. I went to college to learn about human development and counseling. I studied under renowned scholars and grew my practice with incredible mentors, and I am still not sure that I can tell you how I learned to value play. I have seen many children (including my own) engaged in play, laughing and existing entirely in the creative flow. It got me closer to an answer, but I still can’t say this is how I learned that play is essential. That’s probably because the answer is multifaceted, and sometimes we are confused by play’s complexity.

Here is what I do know …

Because we create our own identities, each of us is unique in the way we approach play and learning. No single perfect answer or experience validates what we know. Only an inquisitive attitude allows us to see things from multiple perspectives. We play to be, perhaps to explore the possibilities of being someone different. We play to dream about who we will become. We play because it is transformational. We learn from play because our hearts, souls, and minds are open to diverse perspectives and realities. When we play as adults, we are able to see children for their unique way of being in the world.

I also know …

The images we see daily (in art, advertising, or symbols) require us to reflect on our experiences and the ever-changing nature of our perceptions. When we see a work of art, we have to carefully analyze our reactions, emotions, and perceptions to give meaning to what we have seen. The same happens when we observe children or adults at play. However, what is essential is that we value play as freedom and liberation from societal constraints. Play and learning happen as we explore, connect, and reflect on our experiences. When we explore and connect with the experience (the materials, the people, the space), free of mandates and standards, we become more curious and intentional in everything we do.

I am learning that …

Transformation happens in a community when we know that we belong. When we play and learn in relationships, we discover our strengths, open our minds to new possibilities, and cocreate new realities and more hopeful futures. In play we engage in relationships that both value and invite our contribution. We often talk about socializing children and designing programs that we believe will make them more accepted by society at large. I have learned that programs and strategies are not enough to help children develop social skills. We also need to create a community where everyone’s contribution is valued and we can share in the joy of having meaningful relationships.

I have learned the meaning of practice …

In practice we make room for mistakes to be celebrated and revisited. When we practice, we find what we are capable of and what we need to change. When we see play and learning as freedom, we create ecosystems that allow us to practice and test our theories. Play and learning are about praxis, or taking a hypothesis through prototyping, testing, discovering, and redesigning. Play and learning happen in the process, not when we focus on outcomes. I believe that results will not occur until we engage in the process of play and learning.

I know that we must redefine the meaning of learning to move away from simplistic approaches, such as teaching the ABCs and 123s or prescribing specific thematic concepts. Instead, we need to implement an education that liberates the power of creativity and joy.

I also know that when adults play, we become more inspired to promote the value of play. We understand more deeply how it is a central part of our humanity. Play is not a luxury; it’s a basic need that we must ensure is available to all. That is why we must change our professional development to embrace the power of play.

However, we must acknowledge differences in children’s and adults’ perceptions and play needs. Children play instinctively, while adults make a conscious choice to play. As adults, we often have time constraints and prefer to schedule specific times to play, precluding more spontaneous types of play. We adults may be reluctant to engage in play wholeheartedly in front of other adults for fear of being ridiculed. Encouraging other adults to play requires us to consider how they will make a choice to play and how they will stay engaged, so appreciating the distinction between child and adult play is crucial when designing play spaces for adults. Play for adults has to remove barriers by creating a trusting space where people are free to play and be silly without the fear of being ridiculed. Creating playful spaces requires leaders to remove