Phillip Marvin

When I had my two children, it prompted conversations about how I want to educate my children and the opportunities I had growing up. This is one of those conversations. Everyone is aware that raising children is the single most complex, costly, and rewarding thing that you'll likely embark upon in your life. Providing them with the best opportunities and support is of paramount importance when it comes to raising a well-rounded and regulated child. I'm sure you'll hear plenty of science-backed testimony today, such as how recess is important for development and how missing unstructured time is detrimental to the development of children; let's not forget common sense and the plain obvious though. When I was five, my parents moved my family from North Carolina to New Zealand, which is a whole world away. I grew up knowing that I'd go outside at least three times a day for small snack breaks and a long lunch recess period, and this time was largely unstructured. We'd play with friends, climb trees, work on extracurricular activities, or form teams and play pickup games. Sometimes I'd use my time to catch up on work I'd forgotten to complete or put extra effort into a project that I particularly liked but couldn't find extra time for. All these things ensured that I was able to achieve my own goals and manage my own stresses and emotions, and they all required that I find unstructured time within my day alongside my friends. I remember this time fondly, and even today I use breaks like this during my day to break up the complexity of my adult life so that I can come back refreshed and ready to proceed. While my wife and I talked about how we wanted our children raised and which schools they should go to, it became clear that my experience of school was very different to the average school in the US. I remember walking out to meet my friends when we'd eat our lunches, eat, talk, and roughhouse. By contrast, I heard stories of waiting in long lines for lunch with only close classroom fellows and just enough time to wolf down the food and return to class. A contrast like this is alarming for me. These recollections are not fond like those of my childhood; instead, they are traumatic. I relied on those periods of unstructured time to build my own ability to solve problems in my own life; how is my child supposed to learn to be a self-reliant, inquisitive, and productive member of society if they are not guaranteed the same? As a parent, I'm keenly aware of my children's behavioral states as things change for them. Maybe they've skipped a nap, maybe they've spent too long watching TV, maybe they haven't gotten to move about because it's storming outside. All these things directly result in primarily negative behavioral changes, that is the plain obvious. It's as clear as when they skip a nap! You simply know that they will be crankier than if they'd napped. It is clear when they have not been able to burn off energy just the same whether it's Bluey on a stormy day or not getting enough recess at school. You simply know that they will act out more when cooped up than if they'd been able to burn off the energy. This is what happens to a child when they cannot exercise their body and mind, on their own terms, during recess. They are crankier, they have pent-up energy, and they are uncomfortable, which is the perfect storm for ruining the classroom for the children and the teachers. Common sense shows us what we need to ensure for our children. We need to guarantee them that outlet to burn off that energy, a safe place to play, a place to solve their own problems and achieve their own goals on a daily basis. We need to ensure this minimum amount of recess.