The Pedagogy Police

If you’ve been around these blog parts for a while, you’ve likely noticed I feel strongly about one thing when it comes to parenting and education: the importance of play. And beyond that, I’m pretty eclectic in my approach. Perusing bookshelves and philosophies when it comes to choosing how we parent and educate can feel like standing at the counter of the ice cream shop when there are 692 flavors to choose from. How many scoops can you get? Will you be back here soon? Will you choose only one flavor or maybe try a few? What if you have buyer’s remorse? And what if that only emerges once you’ve eaten all but one bite? Or maybe you’ll really like mint chocolate chip and you’ll choose it again and again and again but never try rocky road. You’ve heard it’s good but how do you know? Mint chocolate chip is familiar, you know you like it, it’s predictable and satisfies the urge, but you may go your whole life on one flavor never experiencing the 691 others (not to mention several limited time only seasonal varieties that come and go throughout the years)…

I have been in and out of classrooms over the years where pedagogy ruled over the play. Strict adherence to one particular model was of the utmost importance, to the benefit or to the detriment of the key players—the children themselves. We have names and faces and texts and evidence and data and documentation to support our approach. And at the end of the day it is a game of who said it best? Rudolph Steiner? Maria Montessori? The community of Reggio Emilia? You begin to hear statements with words like “always,” “never,” “should...” There is going to be a lifetime ahead of “always,” “nevers,” and “shoulds.” Why are we already applying them in the early years and, of all things, to children’s play and learning?

On the one hand, we all agree that play is the work of the young child. We’ve seen it in every theory and pedagogical model phrased in one way or another. We disagree, however, on how this looks in action. Children should use loose parts for play, only open ended materials and objects without a particular function or purpose. They should use these creatively and learn through moving and manipulating them within their environment. Children should engage in symbolic play using toys and props that mimic those used in “real” (re: adult) life scenarios. Children should learn through provocations and invitations to expand on their ideas and curiosities about the world. Children should be given access to a variety of intentional materials to use in learning. The purpose of these materials is singular, serving a meaningful function--that stick is always to be used to measure the distance between ascending blocks and never to be used as a drumstick. Children should always work seated at a table, sitting at an unrolled mat, outdoors, indoors, while moving, while sitting still. Children should have ample and adequate time to engage in play and learning; they should choose how to spend their time and if and when to shift gears. Children will grow bored if they remain at one activity too long, we need to push them along to avoid this. All art should represent something created by an adult. No art should represent something created by an adult. 

Even the aisles of toy stores tell us what we should introduce or not introduce to our children: Toys should be gender role specific. Toys should make noises and light up. Toys should be made from natural materials. Toys should be colorful and durable to engage a child's interest and withstand his strength. Children should play with their own things. Children should play with our things. Children need a lot of toys so that they will never have to share or become bored. Children need only a few toys so that they will learn to focus and persevere. Children should be given access and exposure to real objects so they will learn how to use them and how to be safe. Children should be given access and exposure to objects that mimic real objects so that they can play and imagine about the real thing within the safety of plastic.

We may resonate strongly with a particular pedagogy or educational model. We may resonate so strongly with it, that within it we become rigid and at risk of hijacking our children's play and learning process. I compare early education models to nutrition. I view nutrition as a holistic approach. For me, personally, it works better to add in foods that are nutritionally dense without restricting foods that are less so. Some of my friends do very well to see food only as fuel, energy in, energy out. Some do very well to adhere strictly to a diet with certain nutritional components and without certain others. I, myself, must adhere to a diet free of wheat and gluten and I also choose to keep a strictly kosher diet. However, I see a place at my table for both ice cream and carrot sticks. They serve different functions, but I value food both as fuel for my body and nourishment for my soul. I like the experience of enjoying flavor and company at the table. And while there is a biologically different value to a carrot than to an ice cream cone, both play a meaningful role. 

I want to share a funny little anecdote from my own childhood, growing up as the daughter of an early childhood educator. My mother was quite progressive in her teaching and parenting style. We were given old VCRs to take apart and tinker with. We had ample time to play independently in our yard. And, in the corner of the playroom in a cardboard box never to be unpacked no matter how many years went by between a move were a tall stack of coloring books. The one that was always supposed to stay on top was a more "progressive" coloring book with drawing prompts rather than classic black and white images to color in or mazes to complete. My mother favored process art activities and we did quite a lot of this on our own or with her. But once in a while, I hid down in that corner, removed the top coloring book from the box and sat for hours filling in the lines of a classic, cheap coloring book. We also had a huge bin of Barbie dolls and accessories we could play with but my mother would not assist in dressing/undressing. Rather, if we got into a bind, she might give us some fabric and ribbon and scissors to create an outfit we could put on easily. We knew she "hated" Barbie and we played deeply into our dramatic plots for days and weeks at a time.  Years later when I began my own teaching career, I walked into my new classroom as the lead general Ed teacher (we were an inclusive program) and got ready to revamp the classroom inventory, the first things I hauled off, one under each arm, were a stack of coloring books and a bin of Barbie dolls. About an hour later, I met my co-teacher, a special educator with 15 years of experience on me. She was carrying two things, one under each arm: a stack of coloring books and a bin of Barbies. And so began my year of cowering under her glory, a year I would describe as the most difficult and most rewarding in my career. I learned more from watching her and the children than anything else I can pinpoint. My own children have full access to open ended materials for play and process art and having two boys, I don't currently have any Barbie dolls yet, but they practice early writing skills, spatial awareness and even plain ol' relaxation coloring in coloring books right out in the open, no box needed. Sometimes, I color with them...

And if there is one thing I have learned and observed in working in a range of environments with a range of children it is this: they will play. If the room is set up to explore loose parts, they will play. If there are toy fire trucks and pretend food and baby dolls that have eyes that close when you lay them back, they will play. If they outdoors and there is a playground, they will play. If you are outdoors and there is no playground, they will play. If everything is painted in hushed and neutral tones, they will play. If it is brightly colored with fluorescent lighting, they will play. And when they play, they learn. Are they playing the right way? Who are we to judge? Is playing with a fire truck that lights up and sounds a siren when a button is pushed on the top less valuable to my sons than building a fire from red, orange and yellow play silks, collected sticks and stones and roasting a playdough marshmallow over the flames? Who am I to say? I can say that I personally have a limited amount of patience for the noise of that fire truck, but thank goodness for Bubbies who stray from the birthday wish lists and know that my boys love these noisy toys just as much as they love sticks, stones and scarves.

If our intent as parents and educators is to foster an environment that is conducive to a child's learning and play processes, we need to let go of the idea that we (adults) know or even remember what that looks like for a child. Each child is different and within that, each child is different from moment to moment. Her needs, her curiosities, her fears and her wonders shift and change throughout life. In one moment, she needs to rock a small baby doll, wrapped in a blanket and help her to sleep. In another moment, she needs the large body movement of lifting heavy blocks and building towers to knock and ramps and tunnels for balls to roll. He needs the opportunity to climb up the playground ladder and slide down the twisty tunnel just as much as he needs to use a stick in sword play while standing on top of a large boulder. She needs a tray of paper and access to real artists' pastels just as much as the Paw Patrol coloring book and name brand crayons. The only thing that matters, or at least the one that matters most is that the play is theirs. They apply the boundaries, the meaning, the length of time and the purpose. When we come in, whether it is to helicopter over them or to dictate their space or the function of their playthings or the length of time to engage (and what that engagement should look like), we hijack their play. It is akin to plagiarizing someone's work and even defacing/rewriting what they have created to meet our own personal agenda. 

Social media provides an incredible canvas of support for parents and educators alike. And it also can be restrictive. Pedagogy Police troll these bridges of communication between people who are at once experts and novices in their fields. I think that we must establish firmly our intention and then, at the end of every day, establish it again. My intention as a parent and an educator is to provide an environment--both physically as well as emotionally/spiritually that nurtures my children's process of learning through play. I understand that within that framework, their environment will frequently change and evolve. I understand that within that framework their attention and focus will frequently shift. I understand that their version of play will look different from moment to moment and it will also look different from mine. I understand that all play has value and all play has purpose. All play is theirs, however, and not mine. I am blessed to be invited into their world of wonder and when I am invited, I do join in. It is a gift to be welcomed into a world of wonder I've all but forgotten, if even only for a moment. When we honor our children in their process of play and self discovery, we nurture the child still within ourselves, still exploring discovering this world for the very first time. For even if this is your 12,426th rotation around the sun, it is still the first time you've made the journey at 12,426 days old!

Happy Playing!