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.

Process and Product

"My child used to do this coolest projects at her old school," said a parent during my first year teaching preschool.

"Like what?" I asked.

"At Halloween she made a bat hat that was so cute! I should show you the picture of her class with their bat hats. Oh, and they made this pillow for Mother's Day and she painted I Love My Mom on it. I still have it on my couch."

 At the time, all I could do was smile and nod (and try to hide some hurt feelings because of her implication that our projects were not "cool.").

It's actually taken me a while to fully grasp the reasons and importance behind our school's philosophy about art. And that is...

preschool art is not about the end result, or the product.  It is about the journey, or the process.

When a child is given materials and encouragement (rather than explanations and directions), they are free to create and explore using their own background knowledge and interests. Somewhere along the way they learn to make their own choices. They learn autonomy. They learn persistence and determination and resilience. They learn self-reflection. They learn to be risk takers. They learn that what they create may be different from others and that's okay.

By limiting the amount of adult micromanagement, children learn the value in the process of creating for creation sake. They begin to make their own judgments and require less adult feedback to feel validated and empowered. As our children continue throughout life, this intrinsic motivation and positive self talk is what is going to help them thrive.

Just to be clear, just because we focus on process art at preschool does not mean that I don't have several objectives for each activity in the back of my head. Rather than making sure that children put the appropriate number of legs on their spiders, I focus my attention on individual goals for individual children: For some children, I take note that they came on their own to even try the activity (unfamiliar can be intimidating!). For others, it's a success if they worked longer than one minute. For others, it's can they try it again but using a different technique? This list goes on and on.

As you can see, process art is not lazy or thoughtless. It's actually just the opposite.

Sometime art is messy and all over the place! It's multiple colors - all over each other - until they fill the entire paper and even the clips have to be moved because it just would not be done until every square inch of paper is covered!

Sometimes art is reflective and works to make sense of concepts being learned in the classroom and in life. It requires sitting down. Sometimes we can even see something that we recognize.

Sometimes art shows clear developmental stages, follows patterns, and is "neat." The take away here is this: no matter what art looks like, for preschoolers, it is always purposeful.

Check out this site for helpful ways to talk with your children about their art: http://creativityintherapy.com/2016/07/how-to-talk-to-kids-about-their-art/

Trial and Error

As parents and teachers, our first instinct is often to be proactive when it comes to potential problems that our children might encounter.

We provide reminders throughout the day ("be careful!"). We remove potential hazards from the area. We create rules ("slides are only for going down, not up") that we think will provide order to an otherwise busy and unpredictable environment.

I'm certainly not discounting the gut instincts of parents who deem these actions important for certain children in certain situations.

However, for most of the 3 - 5 year old children at our school, a certain amount of risk is healthy and important for cognitive development. We have real hammers and nails. We have uneven (and sometimes tippy) logs for imaginative play. We often work with sharp wood pieces and messy - sometimes uncomfortable - art materials. Through supportive "supervision without constant intervention," we allow children to explore the world around them and, yes, even make mistakes.

When we back off on some of our less critical rules and provide opportunities for children to make their own, this is where real growth and learning occurs.

Case in point:

Despite multiple attempts by the parents (and teachers at times) to persuade her otherwise, one girl adamantly arrived at school every day in flip flops. While mom and dad and I had discussed the issue (we run! we climb! we're outside a LOT!), it had become a battle that the parents had wisely decided to relent. It was time for her to figure it out on her own.

Fast forward to yesterday and a group of girls were in the middle of a fabulous game of something-or-other that involved going up the slide, down the rickety ladder, up the stairs, and then backwards down the climbing wall (all the "wrong" way to do those things, right?).

Friend 1 went down the wall. No problem. Friend 2 when down. No problem. Friend 3 went down. No problem. And then the girl with flip flops went down. Except her flip flop caught on the top "step" and down she went - on her back - and landed with a thud on the ground.

Oh boy, it hurt. She cried. Nearly all of the children abandoned their games and ran to see if she was okay. She got a drink of water. The teacher gave her some hugs and some cool band-aids.

And then there was the take-away - oh so pointedly claimed by the girl herself - that flip flops were not the best choice at school.

On the outside, I listened to her and even maybe gave her a little nod. On the inside, I jumped for joy that she had some to this conclusion on her own. I was so proud of her! Despite my natural inclination for wanting to validate her, I also wanted her to totally own this experience and take away without an adult's "final word". And she did! (And I think the other children learned a little something from her mistake as well).


AMENDMENT: yep, you guessed it. She came to school in flip flops again. Got to love the predictable unpredictability of preschoolers!