Weeks 27 & 28 2025-2026

“Play is often talked about as if it were a relief from serious learning. But for children, play is serious learning. Play is really the work of childhood.”

― Fred Rogers

This lovely sentiment from Mr. Fred Rogers is one with which many of us are familiar - especially folks who are lucky enough to share the company of young people on a regular basis. His words are often cited by educators, caretakers, play workers, facilitators…and, what does it look like in practice to believe they are true, for all children? Perhaps, for all of us? What is the role that fear plays in practicing the belief that this is true, that play IS the learning; it is not a break from "real" or "serious" learning, for us all?

What role does trust…play?

The adults in our community "played" some word games together at our most recent family potluck. We briefly reviewed Peter Gray's definition of "pure play" at the time, a definition accepted among play research circles. Were we playing by the definition of "pure play"? Were we being playful? Something else? Why does it matter?

These past two weeks here, the young people (and facilitators, to some degree!) most certainly played, in the purest form. Our play was freely chosen and self-directed. The purpose was the play itself, not some pre-determined goal, or adult-centered demand, e.g., "Make a rocket that can self-propel out of these materials! You have 30 minutes!" This time period saw the revival of Cardboard City - again, young people navigated civic roles, mayoral campaigns, commerce and currency, building construction, how to provide free healthcare, and more. Young people created and dressed up for an impromptu formalwear day, played baseball, invented forms of tag, ran up and across the mulch pile, romped on logs, experimented with shaving cream, and more. They implemented clear structure to their play that was all their own. They could opt in or opt out as needed, and, they were all motivated to continue the play. Their process was absolutely creative and imaginative, both. 

These experiences were entirely theirs. 

As we imagine the ages of the participants in this play, how old are they in our minds? Do we imagine mostly very young children engaging in this play? If we imagine participants being 13, 14, even 16 or 17…what happens inside? Do our chests tighten a bit with worry? How will this play translate to a transcript or a college experience or a career? Should "big kids" really "just" be playing?

We can feel this fear, and get both curious about it and interrogate it a bit. Where does it come from? What - and who - is it protecting? We have reams of data: PLAY IS LEARNING (even for "big kids," even for adults). So how do we press through our fear and into trust?

Playworkers with the cohort Rooted in Play, who make pure/free play accessible to all children in the Tampa Bay area, recently shared this question: "What if the thing your child needs most is the thing that looks the least productive?" (Spoiler: that thing is probably play). 

So even if our teens are "only" playing…they're doing exactly what they need to be doing to lay the groundwork for all of that other stuff we're so anxiously waiting for them to do - they're developing, as Stuart Brown with the National Institute of Play says, "executive function, emotional regulation, creativity, and conflict resolution." They're failing, trying again, negotiating and renegotiating, making mistakes, feeling frustrated…and more. "[Play] is doing more for your child than everything else replacing it" - Rooted in Play. 

The conditions necessary for developing confidence, healthy risk-taking…all the things we hope our children will possess as they launch out of our homes and into the broader world…the future planning, the taking steps towards "adulthood"...they'll come. And they're an outgrowth of what happens during play.

What other play, playfulness, (and learning!) took place these past two weeks? Several offerings: Embroidery with Sarah, foraging for & making pesto with chickweed, TCC Awesome Math, Poetry with Zoey, acting auditions with A and E, Micro-Terrariums with L. In the background: exploring an opossum carcass in the forest, H baking (another delicious!) cake, cake pops by A, mixing shaving cream/perler beads/food coloring, E and R writing music in the digital studio, hunting for fossils, exploring the creek, singing, gardening, and more. And we can't forget Dungeons and Dragons - our ongoing play campaign that offers space to foray into world-building, connection, and collective dreaming. What layers of richness this weekly gathering brings! As PhD student of social work Isaac Sanders reminds us, "A tabletop roleplaying game asks a group of people to do something most adults rarely get to do. Sit at a table. Agree on a shared fiction. Take turns. Improvise. Listen. Care about something none of you can see. This is not a small thing. It is the same set of skills required to build anything together." 

Play is powerful.

Play is radical.

Play is necessary in the pursuit of imagining a world beyond the one we're in, and is necessary in practicing that future in the present. 

We'll leave you with an affirmation for when fear takes hold and trust may feel out of reach:

"When my child plays, they're doing exactly what they need to be doing, both in this moment and for their future. 

I trust. I trust. I trust."

With love and care, go play.

Emily, Sarah, and Zoey