If you saw the hashtag "#metoo" take over your Facebook and Twitter feeds in the last months, this is for you. If you, your friend, your sister, your mother or your next-door neighbor answered #metoo--whether in writing, text, verbally or silently, behind the scenes--this is for you. If you have a child, know a child, or ever were a child--this is for you. As news, media, and social networking sites have swarmed with reports of alleged sexual harassment and worse, it has been impossible not to question where the line is drawn in the sand. My passion for play and early childhood development leads me to believe very strongly that it begins in the sandbox and a recent, seemingly benign exchange with my three year old son solidified that notion for me.
Every day when we pick up S from preschool, we try to conjure up creative questions that encourage him to share with us about his day at school. Asking him how his day was or what he did that day is usually met by silence. Asking him to remember all the way back to the very first activity he did in the morning, or what made him laugh or who he played with on the playground, however, usually opens the door to some great car-seat conversation on our short drive home. On one particular day last week, S shared with us that he only played with one particular friend a little that day because he is little. Indeed, his friend is on the younger side and several friends in the class have been exploring concepts of age and who is "big" and who is "little." It opened up a conversation about what qualities we seek in our friends: someone who is kind, someone who shares, someone who makes us laugh and feel good. We talked about how little and big can refer to age, height, size, behavior... We encouraged questions; we avoided pushing answers. These are the earliest stages of S's awareness of power roles and we want to encourage an open mind and critical thinking.
There has been a lot of blame and finger-pointing in regard to the overwhelming reports of these last few months. It is the media's fault or Hollywood's fault. It is policy's fault or the politicians' fault. It is the fault of their mothers or the fault of their fathers; they were not raised "right." It is the fault of religion or the absence of it. It is the fault of being silent; it is the fault of speaking up. This is an issue that is very gender-charged and yet, I believe, when we step back and look at the earliest stages of power role awareness, it is an issue that crosses gender lines and lands us right in the front-lines of preschool playground politics. Usually between the ages of 2-4, children begin to become aware of power and control. It is present in those earliest battles over food, sleep or toileting. It is present in toddler exchanges over a coveted toy. It is present in arguments over who is first, who has the "biggest" piece, who got "more," who "started it," who "sat next to Mommy last time..." Very early on, our children become aware of power and to them, that all boils down to supply and demand. Who has what, who wants what, and how to get what we want, when we want it, maybe even five minutes ago. Ever offered a present or a cupcake or even a bar of soap to one child in a room of 24? I guarantee you're going to hear about 23 emphatic #metoo's in the background!
As parents, caregivers, teachers and adults, we are given the responsibility to "teach" children to have respect. There are entire curricula, television shows, children's books, religious organizations and social programs aimed at teaching respect, and while I feel that there is a great deal of merit to many of these, I also feel we miss the mark when we don't address a deeper area of social development that must precede the genuine expression of respect for other individuals: empathy. Empathy in children is a quality that I personally feel is innate but is not always naturally accessible to them. Adults often have an adult-age-appropriate desire to avoid conflicts for our children by eliminating them altogether. And children have an age-appropriate need to express and experience strong emotions, often through engaging in conflict.
We all have the best of intentions when we encourage taking turns, apologizing, sharing, classroom or sibling democracy. And yet, that's not how the "real world" works. I want a a turn with my neighbor's Mustang and he's had it for two years, but I don't just get to take it for a joy ride because he's had it for so long and I only have a 2001 Nissan Maxima. Studies have shown that forced apologies in marital conflicts are not actually helpful to a marriage at all. #sorrynotsorry Sharing is caring and I care about my friend, but I'm not going to share my cell phone with her. It's mine. And we all want a turn to be "first," but there's not exactly a democratic national rotation for who gets to be the President and First Lady. Positions of power happen through other means, many of which are not in our control. And while both childhood conflicts and our current political climate have elicited many a temper tantrum from people both big and little, we do a great disservice to our very little ones when we do not allow to them to feel, experience and move through strong emotions and conflict resolution.
I found in my classrooms that when we had issues of social conflict or property conflict that I could pretty instantly stifle them on my terms and see the same issue crop up again maybe even minutes later. However, when I empowered my students to work through these experiences, resolutions were reached that were infinitely more effective than anything I ever learned in a college classroom. This is not to say that we completely step out of the scene, but rather that we step back. That when it's time to line up and there are tears over who is first, we don't necessarily create a rotation of line leaders or bandage the hurt with a statement of "we're all going to the same place." Maybe instead we give the language of "now let's give high fives and say 'good race!'" When there's a conflict over a toy, a spot, a turn--we identify what core need is being unmet (control? attention? time?) and we ask the parties involved what they need to solve the conflict. Many times I would leave my pre-k students with the simple question: "what do you need to do to repair this relationship?"
Some children always want to be first. Some never want that role and will avoid it with their whole being. Some do want it, but don't have the means to get there and of those, some will be motivated to try and achieve it while others will not. Some children want to be feel big, some want to stay little, some want both at the same time (have you met my preschooler?). All children become aware on some level of power roles between peers and all children will experience power struggles throughout their lives. These experiences cross gender lines, socioeconomic lines, age lines and political lines; we must empower our children--boys and girls--to learn how to feel and express empathy beginning in early childhood so that when they mature into adulthood, they are top defenders of the line, both their own personal line and others'. Sure, you can act respectfully without feeling respect for a person--but genuinely being able to relate to the effect of our thoughts, words and actions leads to a higher success rate of being able to express ourselves with respect even and especially in those most important moments: the ones in which no one else is watching.
And as with all developmental areas of early childhood, learning is best done through play and day to day experience. Our role is to give language and support as needed, to encourage encounters just outside the box of comfort, to provide a safe haven for feelings and thoughts that are not "neat, tidy or pretty," and to take off our adult gloves for a little while and allow life to get a little messy. Knees will get scraped. Tears will be shed. Insults will be thrown at lightening speed and Cheerios thrown even faster. Our adult wounds and scars are not our children's and vise versa. I don't have any answers; I do have a lot of questions. I encourage the same in my children and in my own peers. Being first, being three, being right, being biggest, fastest, best or better--those are all fleeting. Being kind is permanent. So when my preschooler told me his friend is little, I asked him if his friend is kind? He emphatically answered "yes!" And when I ask him, "are you kind?" --that is the time I most want him to answer boldly, with pride and with or without a hashtag-- yes, #metoo!
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