On Subsequent Inspection...

Why do we think children need to be told what they don't know? In my years of working with children, I've yet to meet one who needs to be told that they can't read yet. Or use scissors. Or walk. Children know their limitations just as well as they know what they can do, if not better. (Who hasn't had "I do it!" Become "Oops"?) This morning, while the children were working on their art (One was cutting confetti, one was drawing with both hands while trying to stabilize paper, one was making lines with the glue stick and trying to find a way to make it show up better on the paper, one was tearing for the sheer joy of noise, and one was trying his hardest to operate the scissors one-handed) it hit me. I didn't have to tell the confetti-cutter that she needed to learn how to control her scissor snips. I didn't have to tell the scissor explorer that he needed to practice aligning the blades with the paper. The children saw what needed to be do...

Why? Why? Why? If you've been around a child for any length of time, you've probably heard this more than you care to count. Toddlers and preschoolers use it when they're curious, testing limits, and just to extend a conversation. Just today, I've heard "why?" in response to: a request to pick up puzzle pieces, an announcement that it's almost time to put shoes on, a line from a story I was reading, a request to bring a glass of milk away from the edge of the table... and about 400 additional times. Sometimes the answer is obvious, sometimes less so. Sometimes it's because the child clearly wanted to contribute verbally but didn't know what else to say. So, why  do I love it? It's a reminder to me, as their educator, to build intentionality into every action. If my goal is for them to understand phonics, why  would I give them sight words rather than more letter sound practice? If my goal is for them to learn about spiders, why would I gi...