Every year when school opens, it takes me back — in my case, way, way back — to my own school days and the four R's: Readin', 'riting, 'rithmetic and, my favorite, recess.

As students at Fulton Street Elementary School in Ephrata, we had four recesses per day. We romped on the playground before the opening buzzer in the morning and again after lunch before the afternoon session. Plus we had midmorning and midafternoon recesses.

We thought this was just the school's way of letting us burn off excess energy, when, in fact, it was a chance for our teachers to down a stiff round of drinks.

We did things kids can't do today. For example, we could run.

We ran out of the building at the start of recess. We ran during recess, and we ran back to the building at the end of recess. Today, if kids run on the playground, teachers blow so many whistles it sounds like a lifeguard convention.

We also played tag. I've read where some schools have banned tag because — get this — they're concerned that the kid who is "it" at the end of recess will suffer a blow to his ego. See? That's what happens when you have too many liberals in education. (Yes! You heard it here!) Hey, educators! Take it from one who always seemed to be "it." It's not true.

You know this means war

At our school, we also played war. Naturally, this was back in the days when, at least in Lancaster County, being "politically correct" simply meant you voted Republican. We'd choose up sides and launch major attacks, charging across the playground and using closed fists to "stab" the enemy, saying "cha" (short for "gotcha) as we slashed. Then we'd resurrect our own "dead" by touching them and saying "fix."

With today's zero tolerance, our fists would be considered a weapon and we'd be suspended.

Cannonball was played with playground balls. Half a dozen kids would throw the balls at the rest of us as we ran back and forth along a solid brick wall, like ducks in a shooting gallery.

If a ball missed, it bounced off the wall and back to the thrower. But if a thrower hit a kid, the two switched places. The only danger was being slammed backward into the brick wall by a hard-flung ball, which is why a wise runner left himself some recoil room.

Sure, games like war and cannonball drew blood on occasion, but we were kids. We healed and went back for more.

Best of all was "Machine-gun," in which one kid had an imaginary Tommy gun. As we charged him one by one, the "gunner" mowed us down. He then selected the kid who died the best, who would then be the gunner for the next game.

Try that one on a playground today.

Here's how you play

Recess was all about letting kids exercise their bodies and imaginations, which is why today recess has become a lost art. Adults want to structure every aspect of a kid's life, and that's simply wrong.

Some schools have even gone to the extreme of hiring firms, such as California-based Playworks, to provide "recess coaches." Do we really need grown-ups to teach kids how to play? That's like hiring someone to teach Alex Rodriguez how to hit home runs.

The theory is that the coaches help curb bullying, foster social skills and address concerns over obesity. Hey! Concerned about obesity? Let them run! That works.

As for social behavior, it's recess, for goodness sake, not the prom. And we've always had bullies — only in my day, teachers made them sit in the hall as punishment. (By today's standards, that's "demeaning," but a little embarrassment for some youngsters is not always a bad thing.)

Kids have been playing since children were invented. We adults just need to let them.

lalexander@lnpnews.com