I was surprised to learn that even in Jamaica, playtime or recess as we knew it, is slowly disappearing. During my early school days, we looked forward to it. We had two recesses and time to play before and after school. In those days, play was as essential as reading and writing, it was part of our growth. Some teachers today are telling the kids, “I don’t want any dirty, sweaty, kids in my class”. So, to avoid playtime they skip the recess.

Back then, many of us in rural Jamaica walked long distances to and from school. Some of us walked from Kellits to Sandy River, about 4 or so miles or so, each way, sometimes even back and forth if that one early bus missed us. And it was okay. It made us strong, fit, and resilient. That daily journey was its own form of play, filled with laughter, storytelling, anancy and duppy stories, skipping stones, and racing friends along the way.

Today, things have changed. Children often take a bus or taxi for distances as short as a block. Recess, especially in urban schools, is being taken away altogether, sometimes as a form of punishment, other times because teachers feel there’s just no time to spare. And when children do get a break, the play looks very different. Instead of running, jumping, or playing games, many are sitting in corners, heads buried in devices—scrolling, texting, or online gaming. In some cases, instead of play, the schoolyard becomes a stage for fights, recorded on phones and shared like trophies.

Even during the pandemic, when we encouraged students to go outside, to breathe and unmask for a while, many chose instead to stay glued to their screens. The joy of open air, movement, and laughter seemed to lose its charm. I remember cold days when getting them outside was like pulling teeth. During Gym time some students who refused to play, girls especially, would give every excuse imaginable: “I’m having my period,” “I don’t want to chip my nails,” “My hair will sweat,” “I didn’t bring my gym clothes.” Some went as far as to get “doctored” letters to say why they can’t participate, and the parents were part of the scheme.

I must admit, I too once used gym time as a form of punishment. “No recess until you finish this work,” I would say. But over time, I realized that by taking away play, we were also taking away an essential part of childhood, the part that fuels creativity, cooperation, and emotional well-being.

Today, physical education in many schools has become an afterthought. Without trained teachers or structured programs, gym periods often descend into chaos. Some students play roughly, others sit out, and too often, accidents or fights erupt. It’s disheartening, but it’s also a wake-up call.

Play is not a luxury, it’s a necessity.
Through play, children learn teamwork, problem-solving, self-control, and empathy. Play helps them manage stress, build confidence, and develop social skills that no device can teach. It strengthens their bodies, sharpens their minds, and nurtures their spirits.

When we remove playtime, we’re not just cutting a break, we’re cutting a vital thread in the fabric of childhood. We are creating generations who can swipe and tap but struggle to connect, who can text faster than they can run, and who know the world through screens rather than through touch, laughter, and shared experience.

It’s time we bring back play, real play. The kind that leaves children sweaty, happy, and full of stories to tell. Let’s remember that recess is not wasted time; it’s invested time in the health, joy, and wholeness of our children.

To quote Albert Einstein, “Play is the highest form of research.”

So, let’s make room again for laughter, movement, and joy. Because when children play, they’re not just passing time; they’re building the strength, imagination, and heart that will carry them through life. And as psychologists will tell you, “play is the language of the child”.