Showing posts with label high expectations; early childhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label high expectations; early childhood. Show all posts

Friday, December 1, 2017

The Art of Listening

Adults. We talk a lot. We're not always the best listeners when it comes to children. It's part of our nature to want to solve problems and impart our own wisdom. To teach, really. When it comes to young children, there are times when we, as teachers of life, just can't help ourselves.

But learning when to bite our tongue can also be a very powerful - and challenging - exercise.

The other day a child came to school with a problem that needed to be solved. The swings are a very popular place on the playground - often having a line of four or five children long - and there was no good way to save one's place to go to the bathroom, get a coat, or grab a quick drink of water.

Being the great problem-solver that she already is, this child came to school with a plan. She had written out the names of five friends on separate pieces of paper to place on the swings as "placeholders" should the need arise.

Every fiber in my adult/teacher being wanted to point out the potential problems to this well-meaning child:
How are the other children going to feel that don't have placeholders?
But these pieces of paper won't hold up ten minutes in a Pacific Northwest downpour!
It's not okay to save swings in the first place!

I ended up commending her for her attention to the problem and her attempt to come up with a solution. Then I suggested we talk as a group about other possible solutions to the problem. Our meeting went something like this:

Me: Hannah noticed a problem on our playground. There's no good way to save your swing or place in line if you have to go to the bathroom. Does anyone else see this as a problem?

Everyone raises their hand.

Me: So do you think we should be able to save a swing? Even if there's a line of people waiting?

Everyone nods unanimously and excitedly. (This took every ounce of restraint not to point out the issues with this)

Student: You can save your place inside but you can't save your place outside! (Hmmmm....never thought about that)

Me: So this is obviously a problem. What are some ways that we can solve it?

Hannah (showing the name cards that she made) explains her idea (solution #1)

Student: My name isn't in there!

Hannah: I could make a card for everyone in the class. (solution #2)

Student: What about the sand timer? (solution #3)

Me: How would you use the sand timer to solve this problem?

Student shrugs his shoulders. A few others solutions were then discussed, including teachers saving spots for students - an idea that was quickly dismissed by students for being too impractical.

Me: Okay, so we agree that we all want to be able to save our swing. Do you see any potential problems with Hannah's pieces of paper? (Part of me wishes that I had encouraged them to use the papers to see how quickly they would fall apart but we were having such a good conversation at this point and I saw it as an opportunity to deepen their thinking even more).

Student: We could lose them.

Student: They could get wet.

Student: What about a beanbag instead? Everyone starts agreeing.

Me: Okay, so we'll use a beanbag to hold places in line. Do we all agree on this solution? An overwhelming agreement finalized the meeting.



Within only five minutes, a teacher-guided / student-led conversation had resulted in a real problem being solved. Students felt validated. Cooperation was rewarded. A feeling of mutual respect was instilled. And while I can still see the potential problems down the road (how long can you save a swing or place for?), they will be rich sources for authentic conflict resolution strategies.

I encourage you to bite your tongue the next time you are around children willing and wanting to solve a problem. Guide them to think critically. Encourage them to consider their peers' viewpoints. Challenge them to come up with - and stick to/reconsider - their solutions. Doing this will result in genuine and authentic learning that will lead to autonomous, empowered citizens of the world.

Saturday, December 10, 2016

The S Word

There's a dirty word in preschool. Can you guess what it is?

No, not that one.

The word that I consider dirty in the preschool world - well, it may surprise you.  It's...

should

I hear this word all the time. From students. From parents. From myself. And it's one that I think about a lot. Maybe too much. So I'm going to try and get some of my thoughts on the subject out here.

For children, should implies a developing independence and autonomy. Surely, this is not a bad thing. But when it becomes a child's crutch for engagement in an activity, a certain level of intervention is necessary.

Should I add more colors? Should I be done with my picture now? Should I go play somewhere else?

When a child uses the S word a lot, it tells me that they look to adults for assurance and validation of their thoughts and feelings. During the early childhood years, it's critical for adults to take a step back from these invitations and encourage children to reflect and assess on their own. Only then can they start to strengthen that important self-evaluation muscle. Therefore, my approach to the S word in preschool is often just to respond with another question (or two, or three):

Should I add more colors?

What do you think? Is it done? How does it make you feel? 

For adults, should suggests that there's only one way something can be accomplished. It also implies a misguided focus on unrealistically high expectations.

Should he be writing his name by now? Should she know all of her letters and sounds by June? Shouldn't he be completely potty-trained by now?

It is so, so, so easy to get caught up in the "milestones" of childhood development. As parents, we are bombarded by information everywhere we look. We get caught up in conversations and comparisons with our friends. Deep down, we also truly just want our kids to be happy. And it's a logical conclusion that successful children are happy so we, as parents, should do everything in our power to help our children succeed in their happiness.

The only problem with this train of thought is that all children are different. Different innate personalities. Different backgrounds, resources, and family structures. Different coping mechanisms. Different birth stories. Different family values. The list could go on and on.

Despite being an educator for many years prior, it really took the bomb of becoming a parent to three children close in age for me to fully get this. My children really could not be more different. I have the extreme extrovert who thrives on being around people all the time. I have the extreme introvert with developmental delays who would happily spend all of his time at home. And then I have the perfect-on-the-outside-complex-on-the-inside child who needs more snuggles than the average human being. (And, yes, this is really minimizing their complex personalities). The point is, I found myself getting sucked into the never-ending whirlpool of childhood development shoulds and needed to find a way out.

So when I hear parents say the S word, I think it's important to take a step back. Take a look at the big picture. What are your child's strengths? Where can they use support? How can we get them that support? Is that support really necessary for a four year old?

What I have learned - and am still learning - is that children will get to where they need to go but they are all on their own developmental curve.

And living in a should world can be kind of should-y. So give yourself a break!