“Never underestimate the vital importance of finding early in life the work that for you is play. This turns possible underachievers into happy warriors.” – Sir Ken Robinson
My son started Kindergarten a week ago, and we knew it would be a transition since his previous care and schooling had been play-based, outside and less structured. Tonight, he refused to follow directions in two different situations, riding our bikes home from the store and bedtime, and he was just being an overall stinker. Finally, when he was in bed crying, it dawned on me: this is not about the bedtime routine; this must be about something else. So I asked the question, “Is Kindergarten hard?”
In return, I received a nod, big tears, and, “Yes, Kindergarten is soooo hard.”
Naturally, my next question: “What’s hard about Kindergarten?”
Through tears and sobbing he said, “I have to cut out really tiny circles, and I have to draw within the lines, and the lines are so small, and I have to write on the tiny dotted line, and it’s hard to find my spot at the carpet.”
“What letter do you sit on at the carpet?” I asked.
His response, with all the crying temporarily gone: “E.”
Crying returned. “And my seat is too small for my butt to fit on it,” he added, using hand gestures to form a square shape. “And I have to scoot in really close to the table to let people walk by, and if I don’t, people trip and everyone laughs.” More sobs.
I wanted to cry too. His sobbing and difficulty, I can totally relate. It’s change, and it’s hard. His world has been turned upside down, from basically playing all day long to now only playing before and after school, with all the other chores and activities mixed in. It almost felt like starting Kindergarten had been the end of playtime.
Of course, that isn’t true. I know there is playtime during the day and recess at school. But the idea of what this change represents is big, and his little body can feel it. This is just the beginning of the many transitions and major changes we go through in our lives.
I told him to let it all out, our bodies just need to release it sometimes, and he did, full body sobs. That’s advice I give myself as an adult too, allow myself to acknowledge my emotions, feel my emotions, and then release my emotions. For me, that can be through crying or physical activity.
Play isn’t just fun, it’s how children learn, process emotions, build social skills, and make sense of their world. For five years, his days were mostly shaped by movement, imagination, exploration, and freedom. Suddenly, he is in a school building, in a classroom with many rules and routines. He even told me between sobs that keeping up while walking in line was hard. Reflecting on this, as I watched him cry, it hit me, in his eyes, it’s almost like starting Kindergarten has been the end of playtime.
Can this be true? Does playtime end with Kindergarten? As adults, we trade free time and playfulness for productivity, checklists, and routines. We tell ourselves we’ll rest or play later, but later rarely comes. Play is planned for special events (e.g., birthdays, holidays, vacations) and not incorporated into our everyday lives.
Play isn’t just a break from learning, it is learning. For kids, it develops executive functioning, creativity, and resilience. For adults, it lowers stress, builds connection, and even increases problem-solving abilities. As Carol Dweck writes in her book Mindset (which I love), growth comes not from perfection, but from curiosity, persistence, and the willingness to try again when something feels hard. Play is where this mindset is born. In play, children experiment, take risks, fail safely, and discover new ways forward. They learn that challenges, even tiny dotted lines and small carpet squares, are not stop signs, but opportunities to grow.
So maybe what my son was sobbing about wasn’t just the hard things in Kindergarten. Maybe he was grieving the shift away from the freedom of play. His little body knows what many of us forget, that play is not optional. It’s essential.
Because play isn’t just about fun. Play is a vital part of creating a humane world. Through play, children (and adults) learn empathy, flexibility, problem-solving, and joy. Play breeds a reverence for life, plus interconnection with and care for others and the environment. When we play together, we practice being human in the best way possible.
That night, as I stroked his hair while he cried about tiny circles and small seats, he was naming something profound. Protecting play means protecting childhood joy, but it also means protecting resilience, a growth mindset, and the humane capacities that will shape how he, and all of us, move through the world. And he’s right: play matters.
In the end, Kindergarten isn’t the end of play. It’s the beginning of learning how to hold onto play, fiercely and intentionally, as life gets busier and harder. And maybe that’s a lesson worth remembering for all of us.
How do you continue to play in your daily life?