There’s a reason I’m writing this today. In 2025, an education authority is rumoured to be considering reducing the number of breaks in the school day. Let me be clear: please don’t do this. It’s wrong for students. It’s wrong for educators. And it won’t lead you where you think it will. It won’t raise academic achievement—it certainly won’t aid learning. What it will raise is the “temperature” in classrooms, the rate of school refusal, and the frustration of everyone involved. Ask any teacher—too many missed or indoor recesses in a row, and the whole school starts to feel like a pressure cooker. Breaks aren’t extras. They’re essential. Learn more before you go that route.

In one of the districts I worked in, many years ago, there was a push to raise reading scores—and fast. The pressure was intense. At the system level, decisions were made to remove science, social studies, and the arts from the daily schedule in Grades 1 through 3. The entire school day was restructured around language arts and math.

The belief was that these “core subjects” were the keys to improvement. The other areas, they said, could be embedded—science topics could be wrapped into reading comprehension, social studies could become part of writing prompts, and art would just naturally appear in creative assignments.

It Didn’t Work

Reading scores didn’t rise. If anything, things got harder. Gaps widened. Behaviour challenges increased. Students became more restless and less engaged. Teachers were running on empty, doing everything they could inside a day that had lost its rhythm, variety, and joy.

That experience has stuck with me because it revealed a fundamental misunderstanding that keeps showing up in education: that learning improves when we simply push in more content and cut what looks “non-essential.”

Lately, I’ve been hearing rumours of something similar—this time about cutting the number of breaks in the school day. I sincerely hope those rumours are false. If they’re not, I believe the people making these decisions need support—support to align their goals with what actually helps students learn. Outdated, uninformed strategies are not neutral—they’re harmful. They miss the mark on how learning and development actually happen.

Same Old Belief, New Packaging

The language and suggested solutions to “closing gaps” may be shifting, but the thinking hasn’t. Maybe we reduce the number of recesses. Maybe we cut back on so-called “downtime” or transitions in the name of maximizing instructional minutes. It’s the same old belief in new packaging—that more scheduled teaching time automatically means more learning. And it still doesn’t work.

Ask any administrator, any teacher, any school resource team, any education assistant, any school secretary, any custodian, any bus driver: A reduction in actual breaks after two or three days of– for example–indoor recess for bad weather reasons is palatable in the school. You can literally feel the difference it makes. Those who work in schools will know what I mean: it’s like the air is actually different and you can almost taste the pressure building. It’s almost  like feeling a weather system moving in. It shows up in the classrooms, the hallways, the washrooms, the office referrals, on the school bus–everywhere.

The Side Effects of Depleting Students (And Staff)

Here’s the kicker: Learning and achievement does NOT  increase when we overload students with nonstop content. The do more, more, more approach doesn’t work for children—and if we’re honest, it doesn’t work for me or you either. High-tension, bottomed-out energy states are not conducive to learning. You can have  educators  stuff in more content, sure—but if it doesn’t stick, it’s not learning. And the side effects of further depleting students’ “ batteries” is that behaviour issues escalate, then what schools are left managing isn’t more teaching and learning —it’s escalating stress responses in all their many forms. 

In case you are thinking this is just about recess and younger students, it’s not. Older students need breaks too. Teens may not run around playing tag, but they still need time to regulate and recover. More minutes of instruction won’t help if they’re already maxed out. 

And don’t forget the school team! They can’t co-regulate and lend calm if they are not calm! A lack of breaks will impact quality pedagogy too. Imagine hearing your name a thousand times a day and being “on” all day with just a couple of daily windows of breaks from this. Now imagine one of those is about to be taken away so you can get more minutes in and you know that stuffing more in will not deliver what they say it will and may lead to even more burnout for everyone involved. 

As the executive director of TMC, I  embrace this understanding of the importance of regular, ongoing breaks with the full team! Breaks for restoration are key so we can be our best selves and have the energy and balance to meet the demands of our work. Fun fact: respecting the wellbeing needs of your people tends to  raise productivity. I could share dozens of examples of the benefits of honouring the science in our TMC leadership expectations around human beings self-regulation needs. Where did this come from? Science, of course. But also Stuart himself!  Stuart sets a timer every 90 minutes to pause and regulate. When I am clearly in a high tension low energy state his advice is always the same: prioritize breaks and restoration.

If an adult brain needs that rhythm, imagine what kids need!

The 5 Domains, Pedagogy & Classroom Practice

Think about what students are carrying in their invisible backpacks—especially in classrooms where they’re expected to stay focused, follow routines, and absorb information, often passively, with limited breaks. This isn’t just about little ones. These stress loads build across all ages, often unnoticed, until they show up as behaviour, disengagement, or burnout. 

Self-Reg asks us to look beneath the surface and consider the five domains of stress, especially in relation to pedagogy and classroom practice:

Biological stress builds when students are expected to sit still for long stretches with limited opportunities to move, stretch, or reset. Add to that factors like noise levels, poor lighting, uncomfortable seating, hunger, or sensory overload, and the stress can quietly compound. In many classrooms, movement is still treated as disruption—even when it’s actually a student’s attempt to self-regulate.

Cognitive stress shows up when the mental load becomes too much. This can happen when content is abstract, overly complex, or delivered too quickly. It can also arise with multi-step instructions that aren’t understood, extended bouts of passive listening, and constant interruptions. Students with auditory processing differences, working memory challenges, or slower processing speeds can be especially taxed. What looks like zoning out is often a brain that’s over-capacity and trying to cope.

Social stress is embedded in almost every part of school life. It plays out during group work, partner activities, whole-class discussions, and even in subtle peer interactions like who gets included or left out. Navigating friendships, status, and unspoken power dynamics can create a low-level vigilance that makes learning even harder.

Prosocial stress affects students who are deeply attuned to the emotions and expectations of others. These are the kids who absorb the stress in the room—those who feel responsible for keeping the peace, worry when a classmate is upset, or feel distressed by unfairness. They often act as helpers or peacemakers. While their empathy is a gift, it becomes a source of stress when they carry that emotional weight without the supports to release it.

Emotion stress runs underneath it all. It includes fear of making mistakes, embarrassment after being corrected, shame from past failures, or the effort it takes to keep big feelings contained throughout the school day. When there’s no safe way to express those emotions and get relief from the stress load and/or insteral stress state tied to those emotions, the pressure builds—and often leaks out in ways we interpret as misbehaviour.

Now imagine …

… all that stress playing out in a school day with no real break—no chance to move, breathe, or reset. Just one expectation after another.

In those conditions, we’re not increasing how much is actually learned—we’re layering stress. Some kids manage. Others—like me once upon a time—will struggle. Sitting still for long periods of time was hard for me. It still is. And for so many students, including neurodivergent learners, those struggling with overwhelming anxiety or those carrying invisible stress, a missed break isn’t a small thing. It’s the thing that tips them over. Overdoing the ”more, more, more” leads to  energy zapping and can show up as limbic braking or it may spill over beyond the school day and show up after school in more maladaptive modes of self-regulation–all those wellbeing areas we hope to reduce some of the urges for, not drive more young people towards. 

The takeaway? 

• Breaks aren’t extras. They’re a break in the tension, a chance to restore. They restore the very conditions learning depends on. 
• Real learning happens when the brain is in a state of balance—when stress is manageable (or better yet, “just right”– not all stress is negative!), attention is engaged, energy is available for thinking, and there’s time and space to consolidate and integrate new learning.
• So before we cut breaks in any way, let’s ask: Are we supporting real learning—or just filling time?

Ask the educators who live this. Ask the students. Ask your own body—how do you feel when you’ve gone too long without a pause?

I’d love to hear your thoughts. What happens in your classroom, your school, your life when breaks are honoured—and when they’re not? Let’s keep this conversation going. Because our kids—especially the ones who need us most—are depending on it.

—Susan