Journey On

"You cannot change your journey if you are unwilling to move at all." (Ally Condie)

New Year's Eve has come to represent new beginnings. It's a time to reflect on the past year and look forward to the future. As a teacher, I used to mark the start of a new year by the academic calendar rather than New Year's Eve. This made sense as I spend time preparing a classroom and anxiously waiting the moment when I would meet my new students and their families.

To an extent, I still mark the start of a new year by the academic calendar. September seems to be another time of new beginnings as school starts, a new semester of grad school begins, and volunteer projects jump into action. And yet, seven years ago I also began to mark New Year's Eve as a time of new beginnings. Seven years ago, on New Year's Eve, I moved to Chicago for a new teaching job. This was a significant point in my journey. I was moving past the comfort of living within close proximity to my friends and the safety of working with a mentor teacher in the same school to a large city that I had only ever spent brief moments in without knowing where I would live or having the safety of having my closest friends nearby.

I can still vividly remember arriving at a college friends's apartment in the dark and snow and craziness that tends to reign on New Year's Eve. More scared than excited, I brushed it off and sent my parents on their way. I remember thinking, "what have I done", as friends counted down to the New Year. I spent the week in a haze and then all of sudden Monday was upon me and it was time to venture to a new school, a new set of colleagues, and a new set of children and families.


I've learned a lot since that crazy move seven years ago. I have learned how to navigate life in the city, how to grocery shop when you rely on the train to get around, and I learned how to teach. In the past seven years, I have learned the type of teacher that I want to be, what beliefs I hold about education and young children and their families, and how to fight for what I believe to be the best for my students.

And now, on the eve of another new year, I reflect on all I still need to know, on the things that I still need to wrestle with and make sense of. Seven years after nervously leaving the small city where I went to college, I am on the verge of graduating from grad school. I feel poised and well equipped to move onto the next stage of my journey. If only I could figure out what that next stage will be.

I am so fortunate to be at an internship that allows me to try new things and allows me the opportunity to get to know faculty and staff at my grad school more deeply. I am blessed that the several part time jobs I hold are at such places as a large not-for-profit that works in support of young children and at a children's museum. I know that these opportunities are amazing and are preparing me for the future and I am so lucky that these opportunities have also made my presence known to many influential people in the field of early childhood education.

And so now it is up to me. It is up to me to reflect on my journey and to open myself up to the future. Maybe I'll end up back in the classroom. Maybe I'll end up overseas. Maybe I'll end up as a teacher coach. The possibilities do seem endless. And maybe that's okay. Maybe it now becomes my job to filter these possibilities and allow myself to pick a direction. Because it seems that whichever direction I pick will be a good choice and will help me continue to work in defense of play, learning, children, and teachers.


Happy New Year!

Pushing Past the Darkness

"It is the small things, every day deeds from ordinary folk, that keep the darkness at bay. Simple acts of kindness and love." (Gandalf, The Hobbit)


Like everyone in the nation and across the globe, I am devastated by the school shooting in Connecticut last week. This devastation felt especially hard in the education community. As I sat and watched the news, the toddler that I teach and care for on Fridays was safely asleep in his crib, peacefully unaware of the evil that can permeate the land. I sat in his living room sobbing; heartbroken over the fact that our youngest children were attacked and grateful for the teachers doing all that they could to protect the children.

Even in their own incredible fear, the teachers continued to put their children first. This is what teachers and other caregivers do every day. They put their children first. Day after day and year after year. And I will always be grateful for this. I will always champion and support this incredible love.


At the end of the day on that Friday, the toddlers parents came rushing in to the house, relieved that their baby was safe and spared from tragedy. I left among tears and gratitude for keeping their most precious baby safe. Then I went to an event with a set of friends not inside of the education world. Saddened beyond comprehension, I was hesitant to go, but was hopeful that the company of friends would help. Not one of them knew what had happened in Connecticut. Not one of them was sad or scared or heartbroken.

And I then felt so terribly alone.


I left the event early and went home and cried myself to sleep. The next day I took to Twitter for distraction and found a community full of sadness and fear and confusion. I found those people that I always find to remind me that I'm not alone in the feelings I have. Those wonderful and varied educators and parents that make up a global learning community. I later read @happycampergirl's candid blog post that you can and should read and felt as though it would begin to be okay.

Not right away and not all at once, but I will be able to help my broken heart heal. We all will slowly heal. We won't forget. We should never forget. But we will begin to heal.

We will begin to heal as we do when every crises and small moments of fear and sadness envelop us. We will begin to heal by doing good. We will continue to do the little things every day that push the darkness away.


For classroom teachers that means that you will continue to teach and inspire and protect and love your students. You will continue to do everything you do that makes your student's days a little brighter and a little safer. For administration this means that you will do what you can to support your teachers and students and to do it all in love and hope.

The small moments of love-the smiles, the hugs, the little notes to let each other know that we are not alone-these will be the catalysts to chase away the darkness.

And then we will continue, or begin, to do the big things that will further encourage hope and light. We will serve others in need. I often tell people that the reason I volunteer so frequently is because social justice is not an option, it is an obligation that we all must participate in. I believe this more than ever and have to have faith that in our large and small acts of social justice that we will begin to heal and that we will begin to enact change.

For if enough of use are able to heal and then bring that healing to others, think of all the change and hope that can arise.

The Words We Speak

“Words are like eggs dropped from great heights; you can no more call them back than ignore the mess they leave when they fall.”  (Jodi Picoult)

Words hold a deep power.  We can encourage, teach, comfort, share, and create with words.  If we let them, words can also belittle, deflate, hurt, and shame.  With this power of words, comes a great responsibility to choose our words cautiously and to use them with respect.  I believe this to be especially true of educators.  As educators, we have a great influence over children, parents, and each other.  We need to be mindfulness of this influence and how the words we speak shape our influence.

When the school year started this year, I was astounded by the amount of posts that were popping up with the theme "what teachers wish that parents knew".  I was more astounded by the largely negative tone these posts took.  Earlier this month, I was engaged in a discussion on the appropriateness or not of homework in kindergarden and was again confronted by the use of very negative descriptions of parents.  

Words matter.  Even when written down and you think that certain people won't see them, words still matter.  They matter because when said out loud or written on paper they are given life.  And that life makes them true to the speaker (writer) and to those who the words were directed at.  Even if that person never hears or sees the words.  Think about that for a minute.  By using derogatory words to talk about a parent or parents as a whole, even if the parents don't hear or read the words, you are making them true in your mind.  This is because words are an expression of our thoughts, otherwise they wouldn't be needed.

Everything that it said and written about parents becomes true in our minds.  So if you are writing that parents are clueless and lazy, this representation of them becomes true to you.  Once it becomes true, it becomes impossible to act as though it is not true.  This means you start to teach and behave in ways that are not respectful of parents.  And from this the children learn that you don't like them.  Because, to a child, they are their parents.  Whether you intend to or not, when you use hurtful and demeaning words to talk about parents, you are being hurtful and demeaning to the children.  

And then what happens to the positive relationships?  They begin to disappear.  And without relationships, there cannot be learning.  This is the power of words.  Words can create or destroy relationships and in turn encourage or dismiss learning.  

So let us remember that the child is part of the parent.  Let us remember that it is our job to build strong relationships with both the child and the parent.  Let us remember to be mindful of the words we use.

Authenticity and Cultural Relevance: Holidays in the Classroom

This post was inspired by a twitter friend and fellow educator @hechternact who spoke up about the inappropriateness of the way many early childhood teachers present the holiday of Thanksgiving to their students.  Every time a holiday season rolls around I cringe because I know that there will be an onset of holiday themed crafts, worksheets (which are cringe-worthy in and of themselves), baking activities, games, and the oh so dreaded themed bulletin boards and classroom decorations.  With the United States' Thanksgiving right around the corner, the internet is ablaze with colored turkeys, inappropriately portrayed Native Americans, Pilgrims, and corn.  Classrooms across the nation are bogged down with out of context and culturally insensitive activities revolving around turkeys and a one-sided account of a historical occurrence.

No, this post is not about the political correctness-or not-of Thanksgiving in the United States.  This post is about bringing authenticity and cultural relevance into the way holidays are presented in classrooms.

Best practice in teaching young children revolves around context, we know that young children learn the most successfully when what they are learning is context based so that they can build on prior knowledge.  By interrupting a topic of study to interject a teacher led holiday agenda, we are disrupting the carefully placed scaffolding that the children have been building within their topic of study and risk throwing of the balance of the classroom creativity and exploring all so that we can bring in activities that are outside the context of the current day to day within the environment.

Our children also deserve to be active participants in authentic activities.  The holiday themed coloring sheets, cookie cutter craft projects, and commercialized decorations are so far removed from the realm of authenticity.  The activities that so typically represent what teachers bring into the classrooms for holidays are not developmentally appropriate, nor cognitively challenging.  By introducing them to the children we are wasting their time; time that could be instead spend investigating the world as it is happening around them.

The onslaught of teacher led holiday activities are also not culturally responsive.  By dedicating days and weeks to the completion of these types of activities, we are not respecting the children and the families in our programs and classrooms.  Our children represent an ever increasing diversity and this diversity should be celebrated in everything that happens in the classroom.  This means that teachers need to save their holiday exuberance for their homes and families.

Finally, the materials and stories that most teachers are using to talk about holidays is not historically accurate.  Instead they are presenting the commercialized versions of the holidays (I'm looking at you Thanksgiving Turkeys-how do you even make sense?).  This is done at a huge disservice to our students who deserve to learn about the correct historical significance and contexts behind holidays and celebrations.

I'm not saying that we should ignore holidays.  Holidays and celebrations are a part of children's lives and are interesting to them.  What we should do, however, is make sure that we are teaching about holidays in a way that is respectful to all children, is not commercialized, is within the context of the curriculum, and is historically accurate.

Instead of dedicating precious time to insignificant and inappropriate holiday bustle, we can make celebrations an everyday part of our classroom life by asking families to share photos and stories of how and what they celebrate.  We can talk about the history behind celebrations with our students. There is much we can do to make sure that holidays are authentic and culturally relevant-let's embrace those ideas and let go of the old ways of thinking that include holiday crafts and out of context information.    

Active Listening Does Not Require Sitting "Criss-Cross Applesauce"

Today, I came across a poster that a preschool teacher had posted that had a child sitting with his legs crossed and the words "Good Listening" written across the top of the poster. There were then labels pointing to various parts of the child with what the teacher had determined to be traits necessary for "good listening". An arrow towards the eyes with the words "eyes forward", an arrow toward the ears with the words "ears open", an arrow towards the hands with the words "hands in lap", an arrow towards the mouth with the words "mouth closed", and an arrow towards the legs with the words "sitting criss-cross applesauce". Not only do I find these types of posters quite disrespectful to children and classroom communities and in stark disregard to child development principles, but this particular poster is also an inaccurate representation of quality active listening; which is what we should be teaching children to engage in.

Active listening does not require a child to be sitting in a particular position, or even to be sitting at all. The position of a child's body in no way influences whether or not they are engaged in a lesson or conversation. Consider this, when you participate in a workshop or a meeting adults are sitting in many different positions. Some are sitting cross legged, some with both their feet flat on the floor, some with a leg tucked under their bottom, some leaning against the wall while standing, and some pacing in the back of the room. Different people are comfortable in different positions and it's expected to accommodate these positions so that everyone is comfortable and able to participate. The same needs to hold true for children. So long as a child is not interfering with another child's comfort, there is no reason they should be required to sit in a prescribed manner. In fact, by requiring them to sit a certain way, we force them to spend more effort and thought worrying about how they are sitting rather than what is being said.

Active listening also does not require a child to keep their hands in their laps. Again, it comes down to an issue of comfort and personal choice. Who are we to tell anybody, including children, how they should hold their body. If the intent behind this is to prevent children from harming others, then be explicit about that. Talk with the children in your care and discuss boundaries and a person's right to feel comfortable and safe and as a result we need to be careful of the way and when we touch people. By forcing children to sit in group times with their hands in their lap, we are again forcing them to focus more effort and thought on where their hands are than engaging in a conversation.

By requiring children to keep eyes "up front" we are making the assumption that all children are visual learners and need to be facing the teacher or a particular manipulative at all times. Rather than insist that children are only looking at the front (I take this to generally mean the teacher in the cases where these posters are present), teach the children how to focus attention so that they can learn how to look at a person who is talking to them or at an item that is of importance for a particular moment in time.

It's also a misinterpretation of active listening to require children to have their mouths closed. A large part of active listening is asking questions and responding to what the other person said. How are children going to learn to listen and then respond in a relevant and respectful manner if we insist that they just quietly sit there? Instead, we need to model and prompt them in engaging in a back and forth dialogue that creates the skills of critical thinking and collaboration.

Ultimately, what it comes down to is what we are teaching the children. If the goal is to teach children how to be active listeners who know how to question, debate, and respond to conversations then we need to teach them the skills to do so. And these skills are not what is taught when we require children to sit like quiet statues.

Reflecting on the NAEYC 2012 Annual Conference: The Role and Responsibility of NAEYC

(I just want to put the obligatory disclaimer out there: As with everything on this little blog of mine, this post represents my opinions and observations. While I am a member of NAEYC, I am in no way an official voice for the organization.)

This year's experience at the conference was a different one for me. As my professional role is shifting from direct work with children to supporting teachers, I spent the conference exploring a few traits of my new professionalism. As a result, I went to less of the pedagogy and activity sessions and to more of the ethics and policy sessions. It was an enlightening experience and one that I know I will continue to reflect upon, but for now, here are some initial reflections.


This morning I went to a public policy forum regarding the very early stages of drafting a position statement on the role of play in early childhood. I went because I am interested in research and quite passionate about play and am quite surprised that NAEYC hasn't issued an official statement regarding play. Of course, play is mentioned in statements regarding development and developmentally appropriate practice, but there is not a position statement dedicated to play. As a leading organization for early childhood education, this should not be the case. The forum was eye opening. For one, I was the only participant under the age of 45. This was a bit discouraging as the younger generation of early childhood professionals needs to step up and create change, not be absent from policy discussions. Secondly, I observed that even in a room of professionals passionate about play, participants were unable to agree on a common language regarding what constitutes play and the role it plays on a child's development and cognition. Finally, from what I heard, the majority of the participants were reluctant to collaborate with kindergarten through third grade professionals and spoke of a divide between the birth to age five children and the kindergarten to third grade age children. This is not okay for many reasons, the pure fact that early childhood education is defined by birth through age eight for one, but mostly we must see a collaboration among the infant-toddler programs, the preschool programs, and the elementary programs if we are going to see sustainable change. As I mentioned, the organization is in the very early stages of developing a draft position statement. I am curious to see how the process develops and will continue to provide reflection and hopefully we will have the opportunity to share our thoughts and provide guidance and influence towards the creation of the draft.


During the second part of my morning, I was invited to attend a focus group regarding NAEYC publications. Much of the session was spent sharing what we liked and didn't like about the book offerings for members and brainstorming in regards to topics for further publications. What I found most interesting was the response of the focus group when I spoke of my desire to be able to purchase e-books directly from the NAEYC store or even from offsite sellers because currently books published by NAEYC are not often available to be downloaded. I expressed my thoughts on the convenience and commonality of e-books and how I personally didn't buy as many NAEYC books as other published professional books because I prefer to buy e-books. The good majority of the focus group disagreed and said that they didn't think there was a need for e-books in our field. To me, this is a huge indicator in the work we still have to do in educating our fellow professionals on the use of technology-or at least helping them to overcome the fear of technology.


After lunch, I went into the exhibit hall to browse the current research trends published in book and journal format and to snag some markers at the art supply booth, my one indulgence in the free sample arena. As I walked around I began to observe the interplay between the vendors and the participants. As always, I was disappointed to see such an overwhelming amount of commercial vendors-those companies selling borders, pre-printed bulletin boards, workbooks and canned curriculum, and oh so much cute (you know how I feel about that four letter word in the education word) craft projects, plastic toys, and character themed books. What's worse is that a majority of the participants were swooning over these vendors and walked out of the exhibit hall boggled down with bags of this junk. In general, these are the participants who are classroom teachers, many of whom are still working towards their degrees and certifications. These are the teachers who depend the most on the guidance of their professional organization in terms of developmentally appropriate practice and classroom environments which is why I suspect they walk out with so much junk from the exhibit hall. These teachers that need the most support are the ones most preyed upon by the vendors. In my opinion, this is a huge lack of responsibility on NAEYC's part. This is an organization who's mission is to guide the developmentally appropriate practice of educators. By inviting these vendors to the national conference they are endorsing them. And this endorsement is not appropriate. If NAEYC wants to endorse vendors, they need to take the responsibility to critically examine whether or not the vendors' products meet the guidelines of appropriate practice. They need to remember that their members look to them for guidance.

The biggest idea I took from today's interactions is the consideration of what are the roles and responsibilities of an educational organization. This is a consideration that I think we all need to examine and reflect on. And then we need to act. We need to engage and get involved and ensure that the organizations we let represent us are representing us in ways we believe in.

Building Intentional Trust and Relationships

Last night, I summoned up some courage and participated in the TechOnDeck networking and play session at the NAEYC conference. My courage was not for playing with the tech, my courage came from having to engage in small talk within a room full of professionals whom I hadn't met before. This is no easy task for me as I become nervous and am still attempting to form my own professional identity and confidence. Nevertheless, I soldiered on and was able to engage in some very interesting conversations.

It took a lot of trust that my ideas would be welcome in conversation.

Move to this morning where I attended a session focused on trust and professionalism. Though much of the session was focused with building trust with children and their families, I really began to reflect on the importance of building trust among professionals. Relationships are the cornerstones of learning. We know this and are intentional about building relationships, and thus building trust, with children so that they can learn and grow.

Why have we so often forgotten about this same need in teachings and collaborating with adults? We must be just as intentional on building relationships with the adults we work with so that we can build a bridge of trust. Only then can we expect professionals to grow and learn within their practice.

This need to build relationships and trust among professionals is one of the reasons that I am seeing a need to shift away from traditional one stop workshops as professional development. These sessions, much like the ones at the very conference I'm at, are great for sparking ideas, passion and interest. But we mustn't stop there. We must provide professional development that allows professionals to develop relationships over time so that they can dig more deeply into those ideas and passions that were sparked at a workshop.

It will take time. It will take trust. It will take collaboration. But it will create a generation of engaged and reflective practitioners.