At Discovery & Adventure Zone Inc., you’ll hear us say something often:
“Play is the work of childhood.”
It’s not just a cute phrase—it’s a powerful truth that guides everything we do.
When we picture “work,” we often think of something serious—something with effort, outcomes, and purpose. That’s exactly what play is for children. It’s their way of testing ideas, solving problems, expressing emotions, and figuring out how the world works. To them, play isn’t a break from learning. It is learning.
I once watched a child stack blocks for what felt like forever. He knocked them down, built them back up, added a truck, removed a truck, and started again. To an outside observer, it may have seemed repetitive. But to me, it was a masterclass in engineering, persistence, creativity, and focus. He was working—seriously and joyfully—at understanding space, balance, and gravity.
It can be tempting to rush past these moments in favor of more “academic” activities. When we sit children down for structured, didactic instruction too early, they may learn to memorize and regurgitate facts and appear more advanced on the surface. But without the deep, foundational understanding that play naturally builds, those early gains can fade. By the time they reach the higher grades, some begin to struggle—not because they aren’t smart, but because they were never given the chance to construct real knowledge in a meaningful way. Just like building a tall tower, you need a solid foundation first—or it all starts to wobble.
We don’t interrupt play with worksheets or formal lessons. Instead, we observe, document, and reflect. Our job is to nurture curiosity, not replace it. We create an environment that invites exploration and responds to what children are telling us with their actions and ideas.
When a child puts on a cape and becomes a superhero, they’re not just pretending. They’re exploring identity, power, empathy, and courage. When a toddler dumps water from one cup to another, they’re experimenting with volume, cause and effect, and sensory input. These aren’t distractions from real learning. They are the foundation of it.
Our educators are trained to notice the learning embedded in these moments. We scaffold gently when needed—but more often, we step back, listen, and trust the child’s process.
Because play is messy. It’s loud. It doesn’t always come home in a backpack. But it leaves lasting impressions on the brain and heart. It’s how children build the skills they’ll need not just for school—but for life.
So, if your child comes home and says, “We just played today,” take a moment to smile. Then ask, “Tell me about it.” You might just discover they’ve been hard at work all along.
Rosetta
