What If We Never Stopped Playing? How My Healthcare Students Reminded Me Why Joyful Learning Matters

At the Joyful Learning Collaborative, we often celebrate play in early childhood classrooms—but what happens when play reemerges in adulthood? In this guest post, Amanda Price, educator and Radiologic Technology Program Director, reflects on how laughter, empathy, and role-play shape deep, lasting learning in her lab-based college classrooms. Through vivid storytelling and thoughtful inquiry, she reminds us that joyful learning isn't just for children—it’s a practice with lifelong power.

One recent afternoon, a group of Radiologic Technology students gathered in the lab to practice a trauma scenario involving a patient with a hip fracture. These are not rare cases; they knew the mechanics of the exam and could walk you through it without hesitation. Many, however, had never actually performed the exam. That gap between knowing and doing is where the magic happens.

In groups of six, students took turns role-playing as either the technologist or the patient, each with a made-up backstory, dramatic pain levels, and elaborate medical histories. The ease in the room allowed learning to unfold naturally. Their imaginations and creative sides were out to play. Laughter echoed as some “patients” acted grumpy or confused, while others cooperated. Future technologists practiced listening, empathizing, explaining decisions, and adjusting their plans in real time. Each interaction became a mini-lesson, and by the end, students who had never performed the exam 90 minutes earlier had six rounds of practice under their belts. It was fun, time flew by, and the impact was immeasurable. Whether or not they would call it play, these students were engaging in something very close to it.

These sessions happen organically. Students do not always arrive with the college-readiness skills to succeed, but in these moments, it feels easy. I wonder why some learning is so natural and, in other spaces, feels so out of reach. There are few days in South Georgia when the weather is just right. Not long ago, there was a nice breeze, comfortable temperatures, and no clouds in the sky. My office and classroom have large windows, and I remember thinking how nice it would be to go outside. I made tentative plans with students to hold a class day outdoors.

On the same rare, perfect weather day, I asked when they last remembered learning through play. Most could not recall beyond pre-k or kindergarten. I thought about my children and how the playground after second grade was reduced to a single swing set and a few balls tossed out during recess, which is so short that they barely had time to organize a game. I asked the students if they saw the lab as a place where play could happen. As mature adult students, they did not use that word to describe their important work. That perfect-weather day, however, reminded me how environments shape mindsets and how rarely students are allowed to play.

I wondered if the absence of play conditioned these students to view it as something only pre-k children could engage in. When did the definition change? The time I spent as a member of a Radiologic Technology cohort was filled with moments of enjoyment, rarely seen in the moment as serious or practical. By their definition, they did not play; they learned through enjoyable experiences and exciting discourse. They recalled the session fondly when answering the test question. They did not play–but they were successful. They learned a lifelong skill, and if they continue “not playing,” I am excited to see where life takes them.

This program may occasionally be loud, messy, and full of laughter, but the deepest learning happens in those moments. Students feel safe enough to take risks, make mistakes, and learn from them in real time. The faculty members are facilitators, happily reduced to holders of an educational space. They sit back admiring the learning, prepared to interject their expertise if necessary. Playful learning builds the flexible, collaborative skills students need. The classroom shifts from traditional instruction to something more powerful: active, joyful learning that sticks. Just as play happens in early childhood, where joy fuels exploration and the knowledge that follows, for technical education students, reflection on the next test, or with the next patient, becomes more meaningful, more memorable, etched in real, joyful practice.