On Subsequent Inspection...

While we were walking downtown recently looking for signs of fall and useful print, a man on the street made a comment that caught me off guard. "Those are some well-disciplined children!" Now, if you had asked me, I would have said they are disciplined. I also would have said they know what to do and we work well together. They know how to be safe in the road, we went out at a time when they weren't yet hungry or tired so they had the brainpower to follow street safety rules and staying to the sides of the road. Undoubtedly the man was commenting on the children between me and my assistant (I was up front holding hands with the two youngest walkers, then there was a preschooler sandwich of four children paired up holding hands, then my assistant pushing the stroller with four infants and toddlers) who were walking carefully and safely. I have argued before that we should be using the term "discipline" rather than guidance, because of it's stress on

The last week of my program has seen a sudden burst of "I hate you!" from a couple of our preschoolers. I can understand the appeal to three- and four-year-olds; it's a very powerful phrase. Efficient, ruthless, and maybe a little daring. Gets a reaction from surrounding adults. My coteacher and I were discussing how we are handling it, and what, if anything else, we should be doing. After some reflection, we decided that acknowledging "It looks like you're really angry that I/she/he/they (fill-in-the-blank here with the offending action). If you want to cool off and be alone, you may go somewhere else for as long as you need to." This has been working rather well, with the children taking the opportunity to find a place by themselves, whether that's their cot, the porch swing, or just a quiet corner that no one else is presently occupying. We're also working with the children on the receiving end on how to let the child be by themselves when they

I ha ve trouble articulating what exactly it is that I do all day- let alone what I should be doing. It's easy enough to brush off my activities as wiping noses and putting away toys. But- it's Sunday evening, I've had a few moments to reflect, and I've settled on a metaphor, The job of the adult in this setting is to be a trampoline; support the child and move them to greater heights than they could achieve on their own, while maintaining a reliable safety net. As each child “touches down” or checks in with me, whether to tell me about their plans or to ask a question, I try to expand their thought process, add vocabulary or materials that will propel them higher in their thinking.  This is a journey for me as well as for the kids, and we're all learning along the way. The day I stop questioning and redesigning and tweaking is the day that I need to find something else to keep me out of trouble during the day.

Just so that's in your head. For what it's worth, when applied to most of life, I hate that song. I am ambitious. If I don't like something, I change it. If I can't be "with the one I love", then damnit, I'm not going to be with anyone. I don't have that choice with my students. Despite the occasional fantasy of a child who is constantly on task, follows all directions to the letter, and never yells for a butt wipe (this is preschool, after all), I couldn't just take on those kids, even if they existed. Better writers than I have hammered home that children are too often held to higher expectations than adults. People who are worse equipped to handle sleep deprivation, hunger, thirst, and other discomfort and also expected to eat on a strict schedule, nap at nap time, play but not too rough or for too long or too loudly... you get the idea. So when one comes into my home, all booger nosed and ornery, we talk. As the adult, it's my j

I don't need to rally against typical preschool crafts, many   writers and satirists  and educators have taken up that cry for me. I try to take a balanced view- what are we trying to teach? And what are the children learning? A search for "octopus craft preschool" turns up many results like these: (credit to iheartcraftythings.com) Many are billed as "fine motor practice", "letter O recognition", and "numeracy" either on the initial webpage or in the notes of Pinterest pinners. And these are worthwhile goals! But what do the children learn about octopuses? What did they do to get roped in here? They're cute and all... but they don't really have much in common with this fella; I would like to present you all with a wonderful gift I received recently. A hand made octopus that exercised fine motor skills, required understanding of numeracy, and involved some processing of what exactly an octopus IS: Okay, this doesn't l

My program is play based. When I say this, people seem to think that it is Lord of the Flies. The mud-covered clothes the children tend to leave in don't do much to dispute this. So what exactly is a play based early childhood curriculum? My lesson plans revolve around materials, not instruction. For example, the math center currently has a set of Picasso Tiles, a measurement set with a variety of standardized measuring tools, counting beads, and a Counting Cars board game. Do my plans for the week involve standing in front of this group of 3-5 year olds and quizzing them on each shape in the tile set, the addition and subtraction facts in the board game, and the names of the units of measure found in the measuring set? They could, but there's not a 5 year old in the world who would sit still for that. Instead, we play together. When looking for a dress to fit a certain baby doll, we measure how many inches tall the baby is to find something that fits. When building a ro