By Liat Schultz
Nearly one month ago, I said my see ya laters to a giant striped circus tent in Exeter, England.
For four days, that tent became home to nearly 100 people who had travelled from around the world to ask one deceptively simple question: How can we build a more playful society?
And several follow-up questions: What does a playful society actually look like? What would need to change? How do we design it so everybody belongs? What would it feel like? What if it failed? Who do we have to convince?
Hosted by the University of Exeter, Playposium 2026 brought together researchers, teachers, coaches, artists, lawyers, CEOs, early childhood educators, students, and practitioners. While our backgrounds were wildly different, we all arrived with a shared curiosity about the role play can have in shaping our lives, our communities, and our futures.
It was unlike any conference I have ever attended.
As someone early in my academic career, I have quickly learned that conferences can feel intimidating. They are often spaces filled with brilliant people tackling impossibly large problems. Conversations revolve around grant funding, publication timelines, and the next research question waiting to be answered. Those conversations matter, but they can also leave you feeling depleted; like you’re climbing a mountain that never stops growing. And maybe you’d be better off if you were to just turn around.
But Playposium was nothing like that.
Instead of beginning with what was broken, we began with one another.
Our first task was simple: create a miniature version of ourselves out of clay. Then, using paper, build a little den for our tiny selves—a space that represented who we are and what helps us feel safe.
Finally, we were each given a few small paper flags. On them, we wrote one or two things that would help others understand how to include us. What helps us join in? What sometimes makes it harder? Maybe you need time to think before speaking. Maybe you occasionally zone out. Maybe you get a little hangry. As for me? I discovered that I function much better when I can spend at least a little time outside each day.
Rather than introducing ourselves through our titles, institutions, or accomplishments, we introduced ourselves through our needs, our quirks, and the conditions that help us thrive so that we could begin building the kind of trust and understanding that meaningful collaboration depends on.
And from that moment forward, the play could begin!
We sang together. We learned improv. We negotiated rules. We shared stories. We laughed. We moved. We reflected. We asked questions. And in all of this, there was play!
My favourite definition of play goes a little something like this:
“Play is an ancient, voluntary, ’emergent’ process driven by pleasure that yet strengthens our muscles, instructs our social skills, tempers and deepens our positive emotions, and enables a state of balance that leaves us poised to play some more” (Eberle, 2014).
Notice how Scott Eberle calls play a process, rather than an activity?
That’s why play can exist in everything that we do. It’s a way of being; an attitude towards living that lets you live a little more. And it’s completely biological. Play is essential to how humans and other species develop, function, and innovate (The National Institute for Play, 2026).
And that was palpable, because even in 35oC heat and 95% humidity, participants were smiling, laughing, dancing, performing, learning, and connecting.
And I don’t know about you, but I usually start frowning and searching for air conditioning when the temperatures hit 30oC.
But play was kind of like the air conditioning, a sun hat, and a crisp cool Gatorade all in one. It energizes us and refreshes us in miraculous ways.
On day 3, everyone met at the Exeter Phoenix – a beautiful multi-media community art space with galleries, theatres, workshops, and spaces to just sit and chat. This day was called a city takeover. And throughout the day, we would be attending 5 different participant-led sessions. And I kind of wish that we could have way more of these because wow there were so many cool people with neat brains and awesome knowledge present and so many awesome sessions to choose from. Feedback for next year!
The first session I attended was all about rediscovering your creativity.
The second session was actually my session! So obviously I had to go.
My session was a slightly modified version of the session I plan to run at the end of August as part of my master’s research. The project investigates how play and playful engagement impact how emerging adults, ages 18-29, come to experience, relate to, and connect with place. In human geography, we make a distinction between space and place. Where space is the objective, physical location; place embodies the lived, experiential dimensions of that space. Place considers all the meanings that we might attach to a space, such as the memories we make, the stories we are told, and the people we meet. While space stays relatively fixed, place is constantly evolving and transforming. So, my session was all about making public space feel more like a public place. And we would do that through some epic play. And that we did!
In the unbearable heat and humidity, five incredible participants enthusiastically threw themselves into action. They experimented with their environment, moved through it in silly ways, played with the rules, and reflected openly.
Of course, I had hoped for a larger group. The weather certainly wasn’t on my side. But those five participants gave me something even more valuable: thoughtful feedback, new ideas for improving the session, and my first glimpse of what this research might uncover.
And if those early experiences are any indication, I think I might be onto something. Play really might have the power to strengthen our relationships—not only with one another, but with the places we share.
Then I attended an improv class.
Yes, and… it was so much fun!
Next was a session all about the “hidden curriculum”. This refers to the unwritten, unofficial, and unspoken social rules, values, and cultural norms that students learn – or don’t learn – in school. While the formal curriculum focuses on biology or algebra, the hidden curriculum teaches obedience, punctuality, and how to navigate institutional power structures, often favouring students from privileged backgrounds. This session was eye-opening and thought-provoking, and of course, playful!
And finally, for my fifth session, I joined the Department for Future Friends! This was a lovely and relaxed way to cap off the day (unbeknownst to me, there was a silent disco immediately after). We sat around a table and got to know each other. It was wonderful.
A week later, I’m still thinking about that striped circus tent.
I left Exeter with pages of notes, new friends, fresh ideas, and a renewed sense of purpose. But perhaps the most important thing I brought home was the reminder that building a more playful society is not only possible, but it is already happening! All around the world, passionate people are planting seeds in their own communities, classrooms, workplaces, and public spheres. And when those seeds take root, they grow into places where people of all ages feel safe enough to be themselves, curious enough to try something new, and playful enough to imagine that things could be different.
But gardens don’t grow themselves.
Scott Eberle describes play as something that leaves us ready to play again. Maybe that’s how change works, too. One playful moment inspires another. One invitation becomes many. One small act of curiosity ripples outward until it becomes part of how people experience the world around them.
See you later, big top. Thanks for the reminder!
