Skip to main content

Ceci n'est pas un Octopus

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 look much like the real guy either. But a self-motivated child took scissors and ribbon and paper, and folded the paper to look like the head of a squid from a book she'd read. With this not-quite-octopus, I had a jumping off point to connect with the child, to assess her knowledge of sea creatures, and to find out what else she wanted to know.

Lisa Murphy says "The children are the curriculum".  A child's boundless enthusiasm for anything they find interesting is so valuable for its own sake- not to mention how important curiosity and love of learning are in this nebulous concept of *school readiness*. Don't be afraid to follow the child, even if neither of you know exactly where you'll end up!

Take a breath. Put down the pin board.


P.S. Another difference from the top octopus crafts? I didn't spend an entire night punching even holes in paper cups, or cutting circles and adding eyes. I'm going to go out on a limb and assume that parents really don't want MY crafts hanging on their refrigerators.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Ornamental People

Imagine you're in bed, about to fall asleep. Your significant other is cuddled up to you (or on the other side of the bed, maybe you prefer a little space), your blankets are right where you need them, and you can barely keep your eyes open; not that you want to. Suddenly, your neighbor walks in. You're on good terms with your neighbor, but they're not your best friend or anything. Why are they in your room? Even more to the point, why are they stroking your hair and telling you how old and fat you're getting? This is rapidly encroaching on illegal, right? Why is this socially acceptable to do to people who can't speak up to protest? Why are there people who feel the need to pick up, pat the head, or tickle the feet of every small child they encounter? Why are strangers more willing to touch a strange baby than a strange dog? It seems to come back to the image of the child, and the idea that they are less human and more ornamental. It takes a perspective shi...

Sit Down and Shut Up!

As an advocate for viewing children as competent, whole humans, I spend a lot of time reflecting on how to ensure the children get that message from what I say and do with them. It turns out the best way I've found so far to convey this is to sit on my hands and bite my tongue. Now, of course, those hands have plenty of uses, turning pages, fetching necessary supplies, providing endless hugs and "uppy"s, but when a child is engaged in a project, it is my job to keep those same hands as far away as possible. When the Duplo block is not pushed all the way onto the one below it, would it be simple and nearly unnoticeable to push it the rest of the way while the child was searching for the next piece? Of course. But if I did that, the child would miss out on the chance to notice it themself, and either correct it or not. By not correcting, that child will learn One way that structure is susceptible to outside forces like gravity.  To notice where the structure broke, wh...

Well, Duh.

 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...