Showing posts with label kinesthetic learning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kinesthetic learning. Show all posts

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!

Wednesday, January 8, 2020

In Motion: Meeting Children's Kinesthetic Needs through Play

One of the most frequent comments I get from friends and strangers who view my photos of play-space setups is that my home resembles a children's museum. I post a lot of "before" photos, but I don't often share the ones that I truly think are museum pieces: the aftermath. The play residue. Bless this mess! I have written on the Cleanup Conundrum before and in both my classrooms and my home, it is always a recurring theme to be navigated. We've all been there--reminding [sometimes over and over again] our children to "clean up one thing before they move to the next," or that "toys from the 'block area' stay in the 'block area.'" Or "you need to use the paintbrush and not your hands," or "keep the beans in the sensory bin." And yet, it's still happening. Over and over again, the children are moving about, carrying little (or big) objects in their hands. They are fleeing from one space to the next. Their play doesn't look at all like your plan.

Anyone with my photography skills who has every tried to capture young kids on camera can tell you one thing: they are always in motion. And I talk a lot here about play as a noun, but today I am talking about play as a verb. Because play is movement. It is seldom sedentary and even when it is, the movement is still there on a finer, more subtle level. Play meets a variety of developmental, cognitive, social emotional and physical needs. Children learn through play and play is constantly in motion. Kinesthetic learning is what is achieved through activity that relates to a person's awareness of their body's position and movement. Meeting children's kinesthetic needs is vital to development and it is also one of the areas most greatly hindered by our constant drive to have children "sit still" and "stay put."

I am guilty of it quite often. Before I can even process a way to "get to yes," the words "no, you can't..." have already fled my lips. And I can't condone activities in the home or classroom that are dangerous or even ones that simply don't work for everyone in the shared environment. But what I can encourage in myself as well as my peers, is a space. A brief moment to stop and ask yourself: "what play need is being expressed?" before those words of "no, you can't..." make a run for it.

I remember a few years ago taking S and then, baby Y, to an indoor play space. S was playing in a room set up like a kitchen when he grabbed a pretend bottle of soap and proceeded to walk out with it and toward another area. Another adult, also a parent and early childhood educator, stopped him and said "you need to put that back. It stays in the kitchen." I, however, wanted to wait and watch. And sure enough, S, ever on the mission to his next "appointment" was too busy to hear and continued on, soap in hand, to the veterinarian center where he proceeded to give a plush dog a bath. He needed soap to wash the dog. And meanwhile, the adult conversation continued.

"Children need order," said the other adult. "They need to know that everything has a place and that is where it belongs."

"Yes," I agreed. "But sometimes, their play has purpose and function. Sometimes when I have stepped back and waited, I can see their plan being carried out and not just a toy being carried about." On this occasion, there had been a purpose and a plan. S was "functionally" playing with the soap in another area. There are also plenty of times when that purpose is less obvious. When one of the children does flee the scene and it looks like a disaster zone. The purpose is harder to envision here, and sometimes, still, a purpose is there--even if it is merely the need to keep moving.

I will be completely honest: messes make me anxious. I have had to let go of a lot in order to function as a teacher, a wife and a mother. Especially in small spaces. Especially in shared spaces. Sometimes I think half of my enjoyment in constantly remodeling my playroom is that it is one way in which I can control the aesthetics of one space in my home. My actual kitchen is a disaster. So I did a Pinterest search, found an article titled "How to Make a Toy Kitchen Set out of a $10 Piece of Furniture," and headed to the thrift store, wearing C, on a mission. I, of course, found a piece of furniture for $10. It was on wheels. It should be easy to move. So I bought it. I buckled C into her car seat and wheeled that thing on out to my van where I quickly discovered it weighs more than an elephant. A nice man came out to help me wedge it into my minivan. By this time, C is screaming her head off at the aforementioned Nice Man. We make the drive around the corner just fine with no visibility in the back of me where I discover, lo and behold, that now I cannot get this hunk of $10 Pinterest Purchase out of my van and I need to before it's time to pick up the boys from school. So, my very patient and loving husband comes by on his lunch break to rescue me and now there is a refurbished kitchen in my living room.

So along with this crazy need to control a cluttered environment, I have also learned not only to tolerate the chaos (ok, maybe I'm still working on learning that one), I have also grown to see the "play residue" as an aspect of true beauty. Evidence of play, to me, is a sign of my success. I have not made the most nutritious dinner. I have not finished (or even started) the laundry. I have not clipped my kids' nails in...well, let's not even go there... But I have met the play needs of my children. And there is evidence of that all over my house, because play is motion.

If you look a little closer at the photo above, you will see that there is pasta all over the table and even some on the floor. There is a collection of tumbled stones mixed in. Here is the amazing thing that happened:
We had a playdate with some wonderful friends who have three kids all close in age to my own three kids. Our sensory bin in the kitchen is filled with dried pasta and some wooden containers and some Chinese soup spoons. There was a glass jar of tumbled stones in the kitchen set. The children wanted to make a party. They gathered everything they'd need. They walked back and forth between the actual kitchen where our sensory bin is and the toy kitchen, carrying pasta in containers and bowls to bring to the table for the party. The rocks became "bubble gum" and the party expanded to include catering service.
Y brought me the most delicious bowl of soup. The soup d'jour was one of tree cross sections and cinnamon sticks. This game involved a great deal of transporting, filling, pouring, dumping, picking up, gathering, moving, carrying...

I could have said that what was in the sensory bin must stay in the sensory bin. But why? Why couldn't it be carried somewhere else? I could have said that the dishes in the kitchen set were not for use in the sensory bin, but why not? They are just as useful for scooping, pouring, filling and transporting as the ones already in there.


And meanwhile, on the carpet...

Those magnetiles were definitely part of our building area and not our kitchen set, but Y discovered that the tray from our kitchen set was magnetic and it was quite a lot of fun to build both flat across it and in three dimensional form. And yes, the spoons and ladle and even the challah and "yogurt" have been evicted from the tray and seemingly abandoned, but discovery waits for no man.

This is play in motion. I am a huge advocate for loose parts play, and yet, I am not among the Pedagogy Police who stress the importance of loose parts being "open ended" or "all natural" or "not a single function toy." Because anyone who has studied the work of Simon Nicholson, the man behind the theory, will see that a loose part is anything that can be moved and manipulated in a variety of ways. And anyone who has observed children deeply engaged in play will note that everything can be moved and manipulated in a variety of ways.

 In another vignette, the boys are eagerly working with a small jar of chalk they carried from the atelier to our chalkboard wall (contact paper on a closet door). Y begins to make lines up and down, jumping as high as he can, crouching all the way to the bottom. S joins in. The movement is enormous and fast and loud. S certainly is capable of the fine motor control of a piece of chalk. He is capable of writing letters and words and drawing pictures that resemble what he is drawing about. But he is jumping and scribbling just like Y. And then he begins to use his hands to smudge and blend the colors. I am envisioning colorful hand prints all over the walls and surfaces of our home. I am tired because it is 5:00 and while every day has, in theory, 24 hours, it seems that 23 of them fall between 5 and 6 when my husband gets home from work. I want to say "no," but I stop myself. What play need is being expressed? Why is a child who a), is capable of 'functional' chalk use and b) somewhat sensory averse to getting his hands dirty scribbling wildly across the length of a closet door covered in chalkboard paper and smearing his hands through it with vigor and vim?!
Because he needs that movement. He needed to jump high and crouch low. He needed to feel the air beneath his feet. He needed to stretch his arms and bend his needs. He needed to see what would happen when the colors mixed. And what that would look like on the chalkboard. And what color it would turn his skin. And the chalk dust, he said, felt like flour, and reminded him of baking. Baking is something we do together and it makes him feel nurtured and loved.

So instead of saying no, I found a way to get to yes. It did not really work for me to have wild chalk prints all around my home, but this is what did work:

I asked S to take a break to wash his hands. Y, by this time, had already moved on to building a "tower for Elsa" out of magnetiles. When his hands were restored to S-color and not a murky green (which is, in fact, the color that results from smearing your hands across a chalkboard covered in rainbow chalk), I invited him to take a piece of black cardstock from the atelier shelf and an art mat and bring it to the table. He chose chalk pastels this time instead of regular chalk--more colors, more opportunities.
And to be clear, this was not a neat and tidy activity, either, but it was a bit more contained. He applied layer upon layer of chalk to the paper, smearing, smudging, spreading, mixing. The movements were smaller and more finite, but he was very much still in motion. There was chalk dust on the table and he asked how he could clean it up. I had him get a rag from the kitchen and he wet it in the bathroom sink and washed the area around his work space. It was not perfect. In fact, I should probably also mention that the orange fingerprints on my Patagonia jacket are also not perfect (and I have no idea how they got there). The green streaks on the bathroom sink were also not perfect. And the orange stains on the hand towel---not perfect. But the play experience here was perfect in every way. I asked S if he wanted another piece of black paper when he was done with the first and had hung it up on our front door. He did not. He had met his need and he was done and ready to move on. I could have said no. It would have been totally fine to do that. It would have been a lot less messy to do that. But do you know how many times I have to say no in just that 5-6PM hour alone? It gets as tiring to say it as it does to hear it. And I really learned a lot about the need behind his play when I slowed myself down to wonder why he was moving so quickly.

Like anything else, meeting children's kinesthetic needs through play in any space, especially shared ones and especially small ones, is a balancing act (sometimes literally). We cannot always say "yes," and even when we can, we still won't. And it's ok. But I still hold on quite firmly to my simultaneous agreement and disagreement with that aforementioned person at the public play space. Yes, children need order and need to know that things have a place. And they also need to be able to move. To carry little (or big) things in their little hands from space to space. To carry out a plan that maybe makes no sense to us or maybe looks like a mess. That maybe has an obvious purpose and function or maybe a less obvious one.

What happened at the end of our pasta party playdate? Well, at first, nothing. At first I honestly just planned to tackle the "play residue" once the kids were in bed. But then the two boys wanted to use playdough and there was no room at either of our tables. Dinner and snack remnants were still strewn across our dining room table and piles of pasta at the kids' table. The boys decided to clean up on their own. I helped a bit once they started, but for the most part, they did it independently--even little Y. They were just as capable of carrying all that pasta back to the sensory bin as they were at carrying it out in the first place. Things went back into their places (more or less) and I have even learned to "let go" of always needing to be in charge of where those places are. Sometimes there is even purpose, function and an element of intentional design in how they clean and set things up. Now there is a little LED lantern from our small world shelf displayed and flickering on the kitchen set counter. Now there is a heart shaped rock in the cabinet. Now there is a tin lunchbox packed with "slices of bread" inside an old suitcase that holds our dress up clothes for the next "trip" the boys will take.

Children do need order, but who is to determine what that is? When we see even very young children as capable of designing and managing a space in a way that they find aesthetically appealing and accessible, we begin not only to honor them as the tiny humans they already are, but also to expand our own breadth of what beauty and function look like. We learn a great deal about how we learn by watching that learning in action. And photos are sedentary; play is not. Play is motion.

Thursday, November 9, 2017

How Having Poor Classroom Management Helped Me Lose 25lbs (And Other, More Evidence-Based Ways of Sneaking Movement into Your Kids' Routine)


Picture it: my first day as a "real" teacher in my dream job, co-teaching in an integrated preschool classroom for four and five-year-olds. I had finally finished my college degree. I was living in a new city, all 15 boxes of my belongings unpacked and neatly put away in my slightly damp and crooked basement apartment. I walked a mile and a half to take an a hour and a half of public transit to my first day of school, toting a Muppets backpack and a sparkly pair of Toms with only a few ventilation holes. I was about to spend a year working 9 hour days and earning a whopping 12 bucks an hour, just slightly less per hour as a college educated lead teacher than I had made as a 15 year old babysitter... I was ecstatic! (And maybe a little off my rocker.) And there I was, as a first-year teacher on her first day of school, carrying more hope, motivation and confidence than I could fit into my Muppets backpack. I stood just inside the doorway of my new classroom--my new classroom, and that's when a little boy I will call Paul came marching on out the door, toward his cubby to grab his backpack and head for the front doors of the building, just down the hall. Those doors led to another set of doors, which led to a parking lot, which led to a highway. I know this very well, because after my 9 hour shift, I walked that route two more miles for another hour and a half of public transit back to my crooked, damp, basement apartment. "That's it," Paul said, "I'm going home!" And I, an overly eager and confident first-year teacher with a Muppets backpack and her own classroom, proceeded to do everything wrong. And I did so right in front of my new boss. I talked too much. I bargained. I begged. I pleaded. I joked. I choked. And then, for the very first time in my life, I took up running as a hobby. It started with chasing Paul out those doors and down the first few rows of parking spots before I scooped him up and carried his hefty body back inside. And it continued with days of chasing, running, being chased, playing, ducking and covering, heavy lifting, dancing, curling up in a fetal position, and, all the while, growing into a far more effective and self-assured teacher. By March, I had lost 25lbs. I came home at times with welts and bruises. I cried at work. Twice. Once in my boss's office. Once in the art supply closet. I questioned whether I was cut out for this work. I questioned whether my boss had actually read my application and resume. And I learned to re-frame the way I saw a day in the classroom. No more did I view it through the lens of "good" day or "bad" day; I learned to see the good moments in every day. Victories were subtle but larger than life, because by March, when Paul ran out the door of the classroom to grab his backpack from the cubbies and head for home, I was right there with him, holding a large sheet of paper and a basket of markers.
"You really want to go home and I want to help you, but there's one problem. I don't know how to get there."
"I know how to get there!" Paul said.
"Can you help me make a map so we can get there together?" I asked.
"Sure, that's easy!" he responded, grabbing the paper, the markers, and heading for a cozy spot behind a play loft back in the classroom. He drew all the places and landmarks he passes each day on his ride home from school. He drew us walking on the rode. He wrote his name and some other letters, too. And then he made a map of the preschool building. And we used it to go on a tour. And in the meantime, as the minutes turned to hours, he forgot all about his plan of escape and we both survived another day.
I got engaged in the middle of the year and moved again when I got married that summer. I packed the same 15 boxes or so, and not much more (12 bucks an hour didn't go so far, as it turns out, and 12 hour days of work and commute didn't afford much time for shopping), but I did have one more thing I brought to my new home with me: a pair of pipecleaner glasses made by Paul. At five years old, with a history of trauma and learning delays, he had experienced more life than I had at over five times his age. I was the teacher, but he taught me. And when he gave me the glasses, he explained that they are to "let me see whatever I want to see." Sure enough, whenever I put them on, I can see my success as a teacher that year. And I can see all the hope and wonder that accompany a child, even one who faces struggles like Paul's. And, just like Paul, wherever I am, I can see Home.
But the one thing that truly stands out to me as a key factor of success in that classroom as well as in any classroom I've been in since (and in my own home) is the importance of large muscle movement. The field of education often elicits images of children sitting stagnantly at desks. Indeed, we are schooled to help children "sit still" in order to create a better learning environment. And, if you ask me, this is counterproductive. Children, particularly under the age of five, are not hardwired to sit still. (I would argue that no human is truly hardwired to sit still, but that's another post in and of itself.) Kinesthetic learning refers to the style of learning that takes place through physical movement and tactile exploration as opposed to through hearing and watching. While some learners are primarily successful through kinesthetic learning, all learners benefit from it. And, as the cooler and shorter days give way to more time indoors, I am reminding myself of the many ways to ensure that movement is incorporated into my daily routine at home--both for our children and for the grownups--even if it means I sneak it in!

 Large muscle or gross motor movement certainly refers to the obvious physical activities, like sports, outdoor play, and games that involve running, jumping, dancing, skipping, etc. You can include a lot of equipment in your gross motor play or no equipment at all. Your body is really all that you need. Many times, we see gross motor activity as something that is restricted to recess/playground times and gym class--but it can definitely be effectively incorporated into structured learning indoors whether it is in the classroom or in your home.  Here are a few ways you can incorporate movement and kinesthetic learning into key pre-K subjects such as learning letters, numbers, shapes and colors:

  • Reading and writing do not need to be sedentary activities! When I introduce letters to preschoolers, I provide a variety of means for them to explore them through tactile manipulation (with magnets, puzzles, foam letters, etc) and through larger muscle movement. Using masking tape, you can create the shape of a letter on your floor or rug. Children can trace the letter by walking over it, jumping over it, hopping over it, tip-toeing over it... You can include building materials like blocks for tracing. Providing a toy car to drive around the letter C is a great way to encourage pre-writing skills while teaching the beginning sound of a hard "C." Indeed, many of my students are introduced to the concept of verbs or action words through acting out a movement beginning with a particular letter sound. Jumping jacks are a fabulous way to get your heart rate up while learning the beginning sound a J makes.
  • Learning colors can be a challenge for many preschoolers. They are not often isolated in our environment and many shades fall under the same name. Send your child on a color themed scavenger hunt around the house or classroom. How many red objects can they bring back? Both my boys are enrolled in classes in a local gymnastics studio and one of my favorite beginning stretches that they do each week is a rainbow chant in which they sit, legs wide and stretch their arms overhead from side to side in the shape of a rainbow while chanting each color: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, violet, indigo!
    • Incorporate sorting and separating colors by using color coded buckets and color coded balls, bean bags or other soft objects to toss inside.
  • Numbers and early mathematical skills can be introduced through movement by having children choose an action word to carry out a particular number of times. I always incorporated kinesthetic learning into my daily calendar time when I taught in classrooms. A designated "calendar helper" was in charge of updating our daily calendar and also of choosing a verb to have all of the students act out the number of times corresponding to the date. Clapping, jumping, frog hopping, spinning in circles--you name it, we did it, one, two, ten, and even 31 times.
  • Shapes are also able to be explored through tactile and physical exploration. They can be traced in the air, traced on the floor, drawn with sidewalk chalk and traced with a tricycle. One favorite activity of ours here is using silk scarves to create shapes in the air as we sing a favorite action song:
We wave our scarves together
We wave our scarves together
We wave our scarves together
Because it's fun to do

We wave our scarves in a circle
We wave them in a circle,
We wave them in a circle
Because it's fun to do!

S loves to choose the shape. There are some pricey play silks on the market, but we just use some fashion scarves from the Dollar Tree. It gets particularly interesting when someone chooses a shape like a hexagon!


Movement for the Less Mobile: Infants and babies may not be up to the developmental stage we most associate with gross motor movement, but they are doing plenty of it and it's so important at this point. While most of the time our play area is set up as a world for S in which Y happens to exist, once in a while, I set up a baby fun zone. S definitely finds ways to enjoy it when he's home and when we have other babies over for playdates, it's great fun to watch them explore and move at their own level. Areas for laying on their back and kicking/grabbing, tummy time, sitting assisted or unassisted, crawling, pulling up, assisted walking or toddling and objects with a variety of textures, shapes and colors all invite your littlest ones to develop vestibular awareness, their little bodies' GPS system.

Gross Motor Equipment, as I've said, is something you can add in or leave out to your discretion. We love using our play tunnel, bean bags for tossing, balls, our fort magic set for large building activities, parachutes, riding toys, hula hoops and child-friendly sports equipment. That said, indoors and out, movement can happen with very few extraneous materials. Many of our own favorite childhood games were follow the leader, red light/green light, Mother, May I?, What time is it, Mr. Fox? and tag. There are plenty of ways to build forts, engage in games and movement and play games with common household materials and additional equipment can often be found on the cheap at secondhand stores or discount stores. Adding unlikely elements to common activities (like turning off the lights and including flashlights and LED lights) can add some spice to the scenario if it gets a little stale.


  • Leave the Heavy Lifting to the Kids?! Yes, you read that right! Heavy lifting and moving large objects is a great way for all kids to get moving. Many children actually greatly benefit from this type of activity. One year I had a student who loved to move playground equipment into a line every day. It was initially quite frustrating for the teachers until one day I stepped in and engaged him and his peers into turning it into a more functional game. We had choo-choo trains, airplanes, boats and more--and my little heavy lifter got his movement in!
  • Just dance! Oh, we've all been there. The witching hour battles after dinner and before bed or even those moments in the classroom when all is going awry. Sometimes we all just need to turn up the music and dance. You don't need a specific playlist or particular songs and movements--you just need something with a good beat that will get you all moving. Go on and join 'em--it's fun to shake your sillies out.



  • If you need some inspiration, YouTube is a great resource for free kids' exercise, Yoga and dancing videos. It's a wonderful way to get moving in new ways and incorporate skills like following instructions. 

  • Let them see you do it! It's hard to tell our kids to get moving from a sedentary position ourselves. Let them see you making movement and exercise a priority and enjoying it and they will follow suit. I have stopped feeling guilty about whisking away to the gym because my time there is good for my body and mind and I want my kids to internalize that.
  • Sneak it in! Lastly, I'd like to toss in a couple of my favorite ways to sneak in gross motor movement. One is a game I call "How Shall We Get There?" This is the one I whip out when my preschooler doesn't want to leave the playground, the friend's house, etc. "How shall we get to the car?" I ask him. "Shall we walk sideways like a crab or jump like a kangaroo?" And get ready to walk sideways with a slightly perturbed toddler all the way to your car... My second favorite is "What Shall We Do While We're Waiting?" This is the one I reserve for waiting in line or for an appointment or turn with a toy. Shall we jump ten times? Shall we hop on one foot three times? Shall we bear crawl across the rug?
Movement is an integral part of learning and growth. It is also a great tool to combat the winter doldrums for both children and adults. Through creative play, games and also just through allowing children to naturally do what they already do, plenty of movement can happen on a daily basis both outdoors and in. I'm off to get moving myself (blogging is rather a stationary activity for me) and until the next time...

Happy ACTIVE playing!