I came across this quote by Dr. Stuart Brown-- a powerful voice behind the power of play--this morning and it provided one of those rare pre-coffee life affirming moments. It's the second week into the school year. Y has started preschool, three half days a week. S has begun full day kindergarten at our Jewish day school. The boys love school. They come home equal parts enthusiastic and exhausted! And those [not enough] after school hours are the time we have for life's most important work at their age (and arguably also at mine): PLAY.
When I first began to delve into early childhood education, I would become enamored with particular pedagogues in a way I can only compare to a seventh grade crush. You may or may not find a photo montage of Bev Bos in my locker right now. I would check out every book by Maria Montessori in the entire county library system. I would shift my classrooms from letter a day to handwriting without tears, from wall to wall Waldorf to Reggio real estate only. And now over a decade later, maybe I've become a bit crusty or just a bit more experienced, but there are no pedagogy police hanging out in my home or in my classrooms for that matter. In fact, the Pedagogy Police would probably arrest me on the spot if they saw my Nature Table sitting above a shelf of Montessori style trays just above a shelf of Lego and Duplo toys and Mr. Potato Heads.
I poked some fun with my sister over the phone that it would be just a matter of time before Y comes home and starts rolling up all our linens like scroll, Montessori style. Lo and behold, the VERY. NEXT. DAY. Y stood at our dry erase easel and Montessori-rolled the rag we have for wiping it clean! I love that his school is Montessori inspired and that one of his two amazing teachers is an accredited Montessori teacher. I also love that he still has time and opportunity for play, for social skill development and for exploring learning in a variety of methods that work for him as an individual. And after spending a year when he was three with an amazingly talented Waldorf trained teacher, I am pleased to report that S has finally begun to draw faces on his pictures of people again! But joking aside, he gained a love for watercolor painting and whimsical fairy tales and nature exploration that he carries with him (along with a needle-felted acorn necklace and copious loose parts collected from the woods) to this day. His classroom this year is full of opportunities to learn through play and I could not be happier to know that his teachers' greatest goal this year is that their young and brilliant minds gain a love for learning. His room is a print rich environment with a visual schedule and Montessori trays for learning how to slice an apple and a kitchen set for playing about Shabbat and a dollhouse and pencils for writing in Primary journals. I am a little bit jealous that his teacher got a Beekeeper Barbie because I really want one, but honestly, I dished out more than I am willing to admit on three Pound Puppies this summer [in original 1980s style packaging, thank you very much).
When it comes to choosing schools and classrooms for my children, I don't have a lot of hard fast rules. I think that children can learn in many ways and adapt to many environments. In fact, I think there is value to stretching just outside of comfort zones and experiencing different styles and personalities. But honestly, what I want the most for my children is that they remain playful and passionate. There are years, G-d willing, for them to sit behind desks and "learn." But for now, just let them play. Let them play. Let them play. There are years, G-d willing, for them to fill the hours between dawn and dusk with clubs, extracurricular activities, talents and study. But for now, let's whisk off to the park, eat dinner to the tune of raindrops pattering on top of the leaves of the oak trees that shield us from getting wet. Let's have a tea party or make stories with puppets and stuffed animals or build a vitamin factory with dollhouse furniture and unit cubes.
When I began teaching, it was all about the pedagogy. And later it became about the passion. For the child who sees wonder in a snail on the sidewalk, the classroom moved outside. For the child who needed to rock a baby doll for hours at a time, the basket was always stocked with plenty of warm blankets because truthfully, he also needed to be rocked for hours at a time. For the child who needed to express herself through art, the shelves were stocked with real oil pastels and real charcoals and chalks. For the child who needed to feel as grown up as her brothers when it was homework time in the evening, there were stacks of intentionally selected worksheets for quietly sticking in her take home folder so she, too, could sit at the family table. Some students left my classrooms writing their names and some were still working on holding a pencil. Some students could read some words and others were still working on moving around the room so they could build the muscles necessary for sitting and hearing a story read to them. But I hope that all my students left my room feeling that their passion was seen, honored and understood. And that, too, is my greatest hope for my children as they embark on this year of learning ahead. I'll just be here fertilizing my brain...
Happy Playing!
No comments:
Post a Comment