Business School Showed Me the Value of Playtime
The last two years I spent 200+ hours choreographing, teaching, and dancing for Stanford GSB’s annual tradition, the Show.
As Dance Director, I spent my morning commutes blasting Rihanna and embodying her spirit as I imagined dance moves to choreograph for her song “Birthday Cake.” I squeezed one-hour dance rehearsals between classes to teach eight women how to unleash their sassier selves. I doodled little Xs for dancers in my black notebook as I toyed with new dance formations. I created a seven-slide guide on how to cosplay as Gen-Z.
The Show may be the biggest co-curricular time commitment at business school, but it is a far cry from a resume enhancer or career opportunity.
As I grieve the end of my tenure with the Show, I am trying to process why this silly little role meant so much to me. Perhaps, it is because the Show was the perfect embodiment of adult playtime. The Show may be the biggest co-curricular time commitment at business school, but it is a far cry from a resume enhancer or career opportunity. By all definitions, the Show was work and it wasn’t always easy. But, being part of it satisfied a deep desire rarely met in business school: being carefree.
Because in the relentless pursuit of external reward at business school -– be it a higher salary, a shinier job title, or the admiration of one of GSB’s celebrity professors — the Show was the one activity where the reward was entirely internal. A place where the urgency of my to-do list paused and a new world with new rules could be imagined; a place where I gave myself permission to play. Perhaps, I’ve realized, the best antidote to the stress of adulting is turning to my inner child.
Research has shown numerous benefits of play on well-being including lower stress levels, increased creativity and problem solving skills, job satisfaction, and even enhanced coping mechanisms. In fact, we all experienced first-hand during the pandemic that play is even more important during times of distress. The distraction of baking banana bread or completing a paint by numbers was the best way to stay resilient.
As defined by Dr. Stuart Brown, founder of the National Institute of Play, “Play is state of mind that one has when absorbed in an activity that provides enjoyment and a suspension of sense of time.”
That means it’s less about the activity (i.e. traveling or playing pickleball) and more about connecting with a sense of playfulness.
Play is also not simply about joy, it’s about satisfying a deeply primitive drive, like sleeping and eating. In other words, it’s essential.
Instead of hiking as a workout, we can hike to frolic in nature. Instead of simply walking a dog, we can race our pup to the end of a sidewalk. We can turn weeknight dinner-making into a cooking competition. We can do things that don’t become Instagram stories, don’t end up on resumes, or impress anyone.
Play is also not simply about joy, it’s about satisfying a deeply primitive drive, like sleeping and eating. In other words, it’s essential. For a long time I thought of the Show as a fun activity to supplement my GSB experience -– the icing on my sometimes bitter cake. Now, I see the Show as crucial to my business school experience–the eggs that provided stability and flavor to my otherwise bland cake.
Hours of rolling on the floor with my friends was the counterweight to my rigid financial statement analysis class. Choreographing provocative dance moves that will be forgotten in a month was the yin to the grind of cold emailing yang. Gathering 60 dancers on stage to celebrate six global genres of dance in 15 minutes was the exhale I needed from the breath I was holding in thinking about my unknown future.
Many of us came to business school to re-engage with play; a necessary recess from life and an acknowledgment of the value of exploration in our careers. We would be remiss to underestimate the impact of play in our everyday lives.
I likely won’t be performing for 1100 people any time soon, but I will be busting out an “in memoriam” twerk every time my Spotify decides to play “Birthday Cake” in my bedroom speaker, just because.
Editor: Emy Makakalala
