Community Post: What Happened to Recess?

“Men do not quit playing because they grow old; they grow old because they quit playing.”
― Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr.

If I close my eyes, I can remember where I felt most myself.

I was in kindergarten and my teacher announced free time right after lunch. I had already surveyed my options. In one corner was a small-scale kitchen complete with plastic food, an oven and counter space. In another, young artists would soon gather around a table of crayons and finger paints and the Etch-a-Sketch. Costumes were tucked in trunks. Tonka toys and Lincoln logs awaited creative hands, and a rug and pillows were placed for reading.

When the sun was high and streaming through the window, I found joy in building things with bricks or constructing stories in my mind as I leafed through Dr. Seuss picture books. I knew that after free time came penmanship, and that soon, I would trace letters in capital and lowercase, practicing hard. But, for now, in the room of opportunities, for a small piece of time, I was free to gravitate to my passions. We all were.

In fourth grade, our time for play came in the form of recess, just after cafeteria lunch and ice cream sandwiches. I walked from the linoleum floor straight to the brown patch beside the monkey bars. I waited my turn in line and then hung upside-down, curly hair hanging down. I watched the boys kicking the soccer ball against the wall and the social butterflies talk at the fence. Hopscotch had begun, and the jump rope spun. Even Mrs. Gardenia's frown looked like a smile from that perspective. When my turn was over, I jumped down and immediately back in line. I only fell once from my perch that I remember. With my back on the grass, I heard my teacher's words but I responded only in mouthed whispers, the breath knocked out of me.

Inside I smiled, because this was the definition of brave.

I found courage and calling in these places. I learned to be bold and brave, how to forgive and share. I dreamt and discovered. I did daring things and began to really see the world around me.

I wonder if a peek into kindergarten classrooms and grade-school recesses, art rooms, band practice, and baseball fields gives us a glimpse of our gifts. If we reach way back can we get a hint of what God himself placed inside us--the thinker, the builder, the artist, the caregiver, the teammate, the leader, the cook, the encourager? Just maybe our callings were there all along, gently pulling us to the corner on the playground where we belonged.

Years have passed since I glanced over my backpack in the hallway and waved goodbye to my mom, looking forward to recess. The calendar has spun many times since I rode a bike and discovered myself out in the first spring air with my younger brothers. I scarcely remember how it feels to know how many minutes I can hang upside down or how long it takes a daddy-long-leg spider to climb a sunflower stem.

I’m still a reader and a mission-builder and a perspective-seeker just like six-year-old Amy. But sometimes, my inner child gets buried beneath my “to-do” lists and day-to-day responsibilities.

But I miss seeing my world upside-down. So I’ve re-committed to finding time for “recess.” Time to remember the passions and the perspective that God placed in me. Because taking time for this ultimately reenergizes all the other areas of life. He placed a spark of passion unique to each of us.

And we found it on the playground.

Amy is a writer and blue jean girl from Augusta, GA. God calls her wandering, inspired soul be•lov•ed, two beautiful souls call her mom, and a grace-filled man calls her wife. She is the Co-Founder of The Lydia Project, a non-profit organization that supports women with cancer. Her work has been featured in Chicken Soup for the Soul and Guidepost Magazine. Amy blogs at BelovedinBlueJeans.com and is a Co-Visionary and contributing writer at OutsidetheCityGate.com .

The Work of Play

Play is not just for kids. If you are under pressure in your work, a spirit of play can lead to balance, creativity, and good health. In our hyper-productive world, we need to learn how to play again--at home, on the job, and even in worship. This article is part of our series “The Work of Play.” If someone you know needs to rediscover the joy of play, invite them to the conversation on The High Calling.