On Subsequent Inspection...

This blog's title, On Subsequent Inspection, is meant to reflect the many times I've said something, only to later recognize the inconsistency of that idea with my ideals. Today was a good reminder of that. I've been considering the ways in which girls' play, like women's labor, is undervalued in even my own head. I'm not sure what sparked the realization; perhaps reviewing my documentation and noticing more photos of stereotypical masculine work than feminine. It's true; the girl examining the dead fly had many more photos and much more of a write up than the girls and boys making birthday cakes from playground mulch. And the boys using plastic pipes to transport water got more "air time" than the girls decorating for a party. I realized, in my frustration over needing pink legos to engage some children, that be focusing on the pink, I'm devaluing children's genuine likes and interests. Why am I excited when a boy tells me his favorite c

Have you ever been so tired that you didn't wash the dishes in the sink before going to bed? Or left laundry out for someone else to fold because you had other things to do? So why are you expecting an exhausted three year old to put away his lunch dishes instead of just laying down on his cot like his body needs to? What possible way could fighting this need meet a goal for you or the child? If we want children to grow into people who respect what their bodies need, and trust others to help them, what purpose does this serve?  I want to be the early educator who can respect a child's humanity, who can understand that just because the clock says 12:10 and the schedule says nap time isn't until 12:45, the child's need for rest overrules this piece of paper.  I want to be the type of person  who can give a little grace and humanity to an environment that rewards quiet compliance. Because right now, we need a little more questioning of the status quo,

 Friday afternoon, I walked back into my classroom to a scene that is not unusual in any group of young children. One child had just hit another (both three years old), attempting to get a coveted toy. I walked over to the two, and as I always do, I looked at the crying child who had been hit and said, "Wow, it looks like Y is really hurting." Then, I recognized that wasn't the whole picture, and looked at the child who had hit (this time), who was already averting their eyes, and said, "It looks like A is hurting too." A turned around, stunned at my ability to perceive what was obvious to them. This time, at least. "Yeah!" They exclaimed. Y stopped crying and looked at A. I offered hugs to both, and attempted to sportscast what I saw. "A wanted that toy, and Y had it! Y didn't want to be hit." A looked at Y, and said, "Yeah, and I really wanted the truck, but I didn't want to hurt you." Both children found a spot i

I saw an interaction this morning that stopped me in my tracks. A child, newly three, was crying because he had lost a toy in the car. Then he began yelling. Then kicking. The upset kept intensifying as his caregiver watched, not wanting to stop him from getting through his feelings (as she told another adult who asked if she could assist). She's surely been told somewhere along the line that accepting children's feelings means not stopping them. Yay!...But she's missing some follow -up. Children need to know that it's okay to be angry or sad or excited or whatever else they feel. But they also sometimes need help getting through to the calm after. An adult standing by, mute, communicates a lack of interest, not acceptance. The child intensifies, needing guidance and reassurance. The adult, so good - heartedly eager to accept the child as they are, remains unphased. The child cries out more for the centering that occurs when an adult they're attached to can initia

At a site today, I overheard a well-meaning teacher of two-year-olds tell a child at a water table, "Don't put those bubbles on your face, you might get them in your eyes or mouth!" I resisted asking the teacher whether or not she had ever had bubbles in her eyes or mouth, as my presence there was not in a capacity that allowed for much input from me. However, her insistence that it hurt, coupled with the presence of both her eyes, implied that she had in fact gotten soap in her eyes and successfully recovered. Meanwhile, the child was exploring the sensation of bubbles on his face. Minutes before, we had been discussing how he looked like daddy shaving, and how those same dangerous bubbles tickled his cheeks. While I'm not disputing that there a few things I'd prefer in my eyes to bubble bath, the fact is that this teacher shut down some great sensorial and language learning opportunities for the fear of... temporary discomfort? Needing a towel? The molecules

There is a lovely and well-meaning article that has been making the social media rounds recently entitled To My Baby's Day Care Teacher , found on the Oklahoma City Mom's Blog. My first reaction was in line with most childcare providers; we are seen! We are appreciated! Working 9 to 12 hour days for minimum wage is worthwhile! Then I realized that as a field, early childhood educators could be both emotionally appreciated and appropriately compensated. As a (former) family child care home operator, I was open from 7 AM to 5:30 PM, with about 30-45 minutes on each side for preparation and tear-down. I planned my weeks on Saturdays and Sundays, typically grocery and supply shopping for 3-4 hours and planning for an additional 3-4 hours. My personal time off was limited to one week per calendar year and three sick days. This was more generous to myself than many providers, who don't take vacations or sick days. For this, I was compensated about $4/hour (depending on the numb