Thursday, January 9, 2020

Play in Motion, Part II: Making Room[s] for Movement

Yesterday we dived deep into the need for movement in play. In fact, play is such a dynamic childhood function that I would argue motion will happen in play, regardless of how much we attempt to or desire to stifle it by encouraging young children to sit still or designating particular areas for particular activities and particular materials for particular functions. The age old phrase "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em," comes to mind today as I guide you through some practical ways to support movement through play in your own home or classroom space.

When we think of movement in play we often look only at what's commonly referred to as "gross motor play," such as games and activities that encourage large muscle movement. We also tend to think about it on a horizontal trajectory. It is also important to include vertical movement (as depicted to the left where Y is drawing on a chalkboard wall) and fine motor movement in this category as well. So much development happens for young children through activities that cross the mid-line and those that encourage balance, spacial awareness, coordination of multiple movements at once, and so on.

So how can we tweak our play environments to encourage and support children's natural need for movement? Here are a few tips and tricks and I'd love to hear some more from you as you've found things that are helpful in your own environment!


Set the Stage: Think of this as a play in three acts. Scene 1 is gathering everything necessary to complete a task. Scene 2 is carrying out the task at hand. Scene 3 is restoring everything to its proper place at the completion of the task. We often set up our homes and classrooms in such a way that we, the adults, are carrying out Scenes 1 and 3 in a solo monologue. It's faster/cleaner/more efficient/easier to set up and clean up activities for our children. I know; I do it. But this is what I have observed: children have a simultaneous need for both the movement and the confidence that comes from being empowered and allowed to set up, carry through and clean up their own play activities. It would be faster, cleaner, more efficient and much easier to set out art mats, paints, brushes, smocks, a jar of water and paper on the table when we want to paint and to handle the cleanup when the kids are asleep. Instead, there are paints at child level in the atelier, stored in empty soap pump bottles. There are plastic paint trays and the boys know to begin with two pumps of a color and come back for more as needed. They can grab a vinyl placemat from beside the shelves and a smock as well if they wish. There is a jar stocked with brushes and a file sorter stocked with papers. There are empty glass vases to be filled with water in the bathroom so they can rinse a brush between colors. There is also a basket in the bathroom of washcloths to use for clean up or messy hands. On the table itself is a tray holding a spray bottle with soapy water and a washcloth for cleaning up a spill or wiping down after we finish a messy activity or meal. Does this involve a lot of prompts and reminders? Yes. Does it involve a lot of snafus along the way? Yes. Are there times that I "close" the atelier or parts of it or go back to the comforts of setting up and cleaning up activities myself? Also yes.

But here's another thing I noticed: when children in my classrooms or my home are involved in the movement of Scenes 1 and 3, Scene 2 goes a lot smoother. They remember more by learning how to do tasks through movement. A child carrying out all of the tasks to set up and clean up a painting activity retains more of the multiple steps involved than a child who never experiences the opportunity but rather is one day verbally prompted to do so somewhere down the line. And the movement of these seemingly menial tasks also addresses the need for movement and energy release that can hinder a more "sedentary" art experience. The children who got intentional movement in before and during and after an art activity were far more likely to work with care and intention than those who were invited to sit at a table and expected to paint a picture. For example, I have rarely taught a class where there is not at least one child who, although he/she can draw and write at recognizable and representational level, will always go immediately toward scribbling and scrabbling across the page. This is the artistic expression of a need for movement. Those same children produce amazing masterpieces when supplied with a "scribble sheet" alongside the art paper or a pencil sharpener and basket for shavings to work those fine motor muscles or an opportunity to walk all the way across the room to the shelf that has an empty jar and then to the bathroom to fill it with water, but only half way and then the balancing act that must occur to transport it from there, back to the table, without spilling, to rinse a murky paintbrush. This isn't a "brain break" to get up and do ten jumping jacks; it is intentional and relevant movement with the activity at hand. Brain breaks are great in their own rite and children do need opportunities to move about that are not task related, but the movement involved in carrying out their play from start to finish is invaluable on so many levels.

These tiny nuances are so easy to overlook. I do it all the time at home and in my classrooms. I zip their coats for them. I open their lunch containers. I clean up the toys when they are asleep and then get frustrated when they are awake and don't put the toys away themselves. Why would they? Would they even know how to? And then there are the three basic kinds of kids when it comes to the aforementioned lunch table that first day of school when the teacher doesn't come and open the container. Kid 1 will now learn how to open it himself. Kid 2 will ask for help. Kid 3 will sit there and look at the container and want what is inside but not know how to proceed. He probably won't starve, but it's not an ideal situation and it should be noted that I am the mother of at least one Kid 3.

So setting that stage is an investment. An investment of your time and your ingenuity and your creativity and definitely your patience. But that investment will pay off in so many ways--both immediately visible and visible down the line. Teach a man to fish, you know... And particularly in small and shared spaces, it can be tricky to set things up in a way that, to an adult, feels convenient. My adult brain cannot immediately wrap itself around the challenge of having to pick up the paint bottles and pump 2 times on a tray but not until you carry those items to a table that is all the way across the room because the atelier is in our living room space right near our couch and there's a lovely, albeit, colorful (just in case) throw run on the floor below it. And the bathroom is across from it but just about as far away from the dining room table we most frequently paint at as possible. A LOT can happen between that table and that door knob. A LOT. And yes, sometimes it does get a little messy here... But the boys have a level of confidence that yields a level of competence. Their young brains can totally wrap around all of those steps--footsteps and task steps. So instead of seeing the layout of our space as a hindrance, I see it as an opportunity for meaningful movement. Win-win.


Tools of the Trade: There are a variety of schemas in early childhood play that are significant and invaluable to the developmental process. Many of these are movement related. Children have an inherent need and curiosity to explore transportation, connection/putting things together, destruction/taking things apart, filling up, pouring out, trajectory, sorting, putting in order, lining up objects and more... Having the right tools for the trade is helpful. Baskets, trays, containers, buckets, scoops, shovels, spoons, bowls, space, time, flat surfaces, bumpy surfaces, soft spaces, cozy spaces, high up spaces and low to the ground spaces. These are all tools. I recently read an article about a teacher who recognized the inherent need children in his classroom had to pour the contents of the sand table out on the floor. So instead of fighting a never ending battle, the man bought a 5 gallon bucket. Need to dump it out? Dump it in here! Brilliance. Sheer brilliance.
My boys are currently totally obsessed with our magnetiles for building towers. They will build it as tall as it can possibly be built, sometimes with help from a taller family member as well. And their enthusiasm to building it is only second to their enthusiasm to smash it down. It's not "destruction" without a function, the act of destroying the tower is the function. It's a need for movement. It's a need to take things apart. It's the start of just about every fight S and Y have lately (because Tower A was built for knocking down but Tower B was meant to remain standing even though no one explicitly stated that before the fact)...

Loose Parts and Open Ended Materials are highly useful when it comes to encouraging movement. I am not in any way opposed to "single function" toys. I like them in conjunction with more open ended ones. Yes, a toy banana will probably remain a "banana" and maybe because of that it won't travel much further than the dramatic play area--but add an empty suitcase or an old lunchbox? And then it's time for a trip. Pack that banana and build a plane from some chairs because you might get hungry on the flight...


And then there are the even more open ended loose parts. Those items that I'm asked "what are you going to do with these?"
And my go to answer is always:
"Put them out and watch."
In these photos, S has discovered one of our STEAM Cart drawers was filled with paper straws, cotton rounds, Q-tips and a variety of glass gems and stones. He pulled the drawer out of the cart, carried it across the room to the rug and started by creating a square with 4 straws. Then he decided to stick Q-tips inside the straws. He discovered that he could bend the Q-tips in such a way that he could now connect the straws together. Then he decides to design the inside of his perimeter with cotton rounds. This, he declared, was a skating rink.
There was so much movement involved in this self-led activity. From walking across the room, to balancing that drawer full of small parts as he walked, to crouching down and manipulating the small objects to connect them and organizing his design within that space.

When you are designing and filling your play spaces, can you think of items that may encourage movement? Can you allow for something used in a "block" area to also be used in a "kitchen" area? Can materials be used on a table or on the floor? It's not realistic to expect to always be able to say "yes." I can't really bring myself to allow my children to eat all around the house or all around my classrooms. For one, it's a safety issue, but moreover, it's a cleanliness preference on my part. But I can also remember a particular scenario in one of my classrooms at a Montessori inspired school. Our "policy" was for the children to take a rug for their materials and work on that space. And since we were Montessori-inspired, we also had the privilege of flexibility--both with what we constituted as "materials" and how that "work" was carried out. One afternoon, I noticed two of the boys had pulled their rug flush up against the square ottoman I used as my teacher chair. And they were using toy cars on top of it. I had that gut reaction to remind them to work within their "work space," but this was their work space. They needed to have that higher elevation and the movement between the floor and its surface. It was functional and purposeful and in no way dangerous or disruptive.

Now consider the table scene when we set out "seated" activities. Whether it's writing, drawing, painting, playdough, eating... Someone's standing. Someone is sprawled across the floor. Someone is sitting in a chair but on her knees. Someone is falling out of a chair. Every. Single. Day. Not the same someone, but still, someone. And someone is walking around the room, a red painty brush in his hand that he doesn't seem to remember is there as he discovers someone else from another class throwing a ball to his friend in the parking lot. So, no, I don't actually allow him to keep carrying his painty brush around. He needs to put it down and then he can come back to the window. And I'm probably going to remind my kneeling friend that it is very likely she will soon be my falling out of her chair friend, but I might also offer her to sit on a higher surface. She may need that elevation for greater upper body control. And the kid who is standing might also be seeking that strength and control as he pounds a ball of clay into playdough. And the kid sprawled across the floor may do quite well with a clipboard and paper to work with from his tummy rather than a chair at a table. Can you have options in your space for doing "seated" activities in a different position? Vertical work spaces? Floor spaces? Tables at standing height and those at standard child height?

Containers are GOOD. Containment is BAD. Ok, it's not exactly so simplistic, but while I do encourage the provision of ample types of container to transport, store and use with play materials, I do not encourage the consistent use of containment devices with very young children. Even little babies who are not yet mobile need space and opportunity to develop mobility. I have and use strollers, bucket seats, electric swings, Bumbo chairs, high chairs, baby carriers, etc. I also am on my third child who likely has low muscle tone, so sitting independently happens later around here. The devices above are all tools of convenience. We use them out of necessity and even preference at certain times. In all likelihood, most of the early photos of my children involve them depicted in one of these devices because, um, I needed my hands to take the picture. But these times are supplemented with time on their tummies, backs and eventually bottoms with access to space in which to move. In classrooms with very young children, it's common to see tables with high chairs and children secured inside. It's a necessity both practically speaking and in terms of safety when there are multiple infants in one space. I encourage parents and aspiring teachers, however, to also look within centers for opportunities and spaces where infants and very young children can move around in open space. In both my homes and classrooms, I prefer not to see children buckled in and contained for the purpose of watching a screen or during "free" play times. As a parent, I am not going to pretend that I don't make use of these types of devices for my own convenience. Rather than making it a (very unrealistic) goal to eliminate them altogether, I work toward supplementing more opportunities with access to open space and movement.



Think small: As I mentioned above, we tend to thing of movement on a grand scale. Small movement is also quite necessary and valuable. Little hands need to hold, carry and manipulate little things. Even many adults require items to fidget with during times of focus or relaxation. Small world setups can encourage creative play and storytelling. They also encourage fine motor movement as children manipulate the little toys and props. Little things are just the right size for little hands and there is something so full of wonder in tiny versions of real life things.

 The Sensory Component: Sensory play has become a mainstream philosophy both in the home and on the market. Materials that lend to exploration using the 5 senses encourage development and learning in young children. In addition to the 5 senses commonly cited, I look at how these opportunities also encourage and nurture movement in play. From the tiny and carefully executed movements of using a pipette to suck up colored water and dropping one drop at a time into an upside down bathtub grip, to the significantly larger muscle movements necessary to dig yourself into and then out of a hole in the sand on the beach, sensory play is a type of play that begs for motion.


Elements of Motion that Inspire Movement: In addition to moving themselves, children need opportunities to observe elements of motion. From the way light moves reflections and shadows of a magnetile building onto the walls and ceiling to the way that oil and water move together in a plastic basin, observing movement encourages movement. 

Our children have their whole lives ahead of them to sit still and stay put. They develop these skills through movement in these earlier years. I'd love to overhaul the education system that is dictating a child in kindergarten should be able to sit at a desk doing worksheets from 9-2:30. I'd love to overhaul the societal pressure that is dictating that a child in preschool needs to be able to sit for 20-30 minutes singing songs about the weather and the days of the week and pointing to numbers on a calendar on the wall. I'd love to go back to the basics. To the days when play was enough and movement was an inherent part of that process. It's an uphill battle, but even I must keep moving. And for now, that is best achieved by putting intention and attention into how I set up and execute my home and classroom experiences.

Happy Playing!

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