The First Days of School

As I’m getting my room ready for the first days of school, my first thought is, “How will the children feel when they enter my classroom?”

Starting school is a mix of emotions for children and their adults. Excitement and anticipation, and also anxiety and fear of the unknown. For children attending preschool for the first time, separation from their familiar caregiver and learning to trust a new adult to take care of them is often the only thing on the child’s (and parent’s) mind. For children who have been to school before, walking in the door of the new classroom is still a separation. They may do this better than they did the first time, but the newness of a different classroom, different teachers, and once again saying goodbye to their parents and caregivers after having some days, weeks, or even months at home brings up all the feelings of uncomfortable newness and anxiety that they experienced on their very first day of school.

Knowing that this is what’s going through their heads, my goal is to make my classroom as welcoming, comforting, familiar, and easy to be in as possible.

When children walk in the door, I want them to see a space that says, “Welcome, I’m ready for you”. I want them to see interesting things that invite them to touch, play, and explore. If I know what a child’s favorite toy or book is, that toy or book is going to be in the classroom on the first day. If I don’t, I’ll choose a variety of toys and books that over the years, have been common favorites: playdough, water or sand, paint, blocks, and cars, “The Very Hungry Caterpillar” and “Brown Bear Brown Bear What Do You See.” I’ll have multiples of popular toys, because the goal of these first days isn’t waiting, taking turns, or forcing sharing with strangers. The goal is creating an environment that tells the child, “I am here for you. I will take care of you and give you what you need.” Sharing and taking turns can come later. Building the connection and trust that I will take care of you comes first.

In those early days, especially with toddlers or children at school for the first time, the toys, books, and songs in my classroom focus on separation and the feelings that come with being at school. We’ll read about saying goodbye, about your grown-up coming back, about what it feels like to be at school for the first time. The toys in the room lend themselves to children acting out their emotions about separation, whether it’s pushing a car through a tunnel and watching it come back, or hiding an animal in a box and being able to control when that animals comes back out again. We have a predictable routine, with frequent reminders of what will happen next, and when their grown-ups will come back to get them. And most of all, I am there as a warm, safe, presence for the children. My job is to teach them that they can trust me to take care of them after their grown-ups leave, and that I can – and will – meet their needs.

Some teachers start the year will a list of expectations and procedures that they want children to get used to from the beginning. In those classrooms, the first days are endless lists of reminders, rules and procedures. Telling children what you expect them to do doesn’t build connection. But, once that connection is built – once they trust you and know that you will take care of them – then, they’re much more likely to follow the rules and expectations that you present to them. The reason I don’t emphasize rules in the first days of school isn’t because there will never be rules, it’s that at that point in time, rules aren’t what’s most important. What’s important is building relationships, establishing trust and positive connections, and creating an environment where children will follow expectations because they want to, not because their told to. Creating the place that welcomes children comes first. The rest can come later.

How Can I Teach Self-Control?

Teaching children “self-control” or “self-regulation” skills are often top on teacher’s lists. It’s often one of the most challenging group of skills, and one that teachers feel most frustrated by. Why is it so hard? Because in essence, “teaching self-control” usually means “teaching children not to express the emotions that they’re feeling.”

Of course, self-regulation is important. And of course, we all, as we mature, need to learn what feelings to share, with whom, and when. As we all know, even as adults that can be very hard. The same teacher who has an angry outburst at a staff meeting, or who shares a list of frustrations and complaints with a co-worker on her lunch break, might expect a 3-year-old child to somehow develop the skills to not get upset – or if they do get upset, not to show it, because showing it disrupts the classroom and her lesson plan.

Yes, children need to learn self-regulation skills. But, like any other skill, these skills are developmental, and adults need to be aware of what situations and emotions young children can realistically be expected to handle.

So many of the “self-regulation” issues that challenge teachers aren’t actually about children’s own self-regulation. They’re about children’s ability and willingness to comply with what adults what them to do.  There are some things that children do need to follow adult directions for, especially situations involving health and safety. But there’s also a lot of situations where adults could give children more flexibility and choice. When adults choose to demand that children follow directions and rules that come from adult perspective, or that don’t consider children’s perspectives and needs, children become frustrated. And the adults then expect the children to demonstrate the “self-control” of not expressing that frustration.

But don’t children need to learn to handle frustration?

Yes they do. But we also need to consider the reasons that they’re frustrated to begin with. When we expect children to share a limited amount of materials, or sit in the same spot for twenty minutes, or play with children who they don’t want to be with, we’re creating problems – usually without even realizing it. As adults, when we’re frustrated, we want to find solutions to the problem. We don’t want someone to just tell us to not be upset. Self-regulation is more than behaving well and not being disruptive. True self-regulation is part of a complex set of skills for managing our inner selves as we interact with the people around us. Like any other skill set, it takes time and practice to learn and develop. And that’s what the adults should expect – and should support. 

Solving the Problem

“If all I did was solve problems all day, I wouldn’t get anything done.”

“Children need to learn to solve their own problems.”

“My job is to teach, not solve everyone’s problems for them.”

Comments like these come up quite often in conversations about classroom management and children’s behavior. When I hear comments like this, my first reaction is usually to say that, actually, solving problems is our job. Fostering social-emotional competence and supporting children as they learn to negotiate the social world is at the heart of teaching. But there’s something more.

Why are there so many problems in the first place?

“Behavior problems” are often less about a child’s actual behavior, and more about the teacher’s perception of and reaction to it. Sometimes what defines the behavior as a problem isn’t how it makes the child feel, but how it makes the teacher feel. And sometimes, these behaviors don’t originate in the child, but in the child’s response to something a teacher said or did, or a situation that the teacher created.

Several years ago, a teacher approached me for help with a classroom management problem. Every day at free play, the same group of children were fighting over the toy police car. No matter how much she talked to them or what consequences she gave them, they still yelled at each other and grabbed the car out of each others’ hands. What should she do? My suggestion – get more police cars. Obviously the police car was a very popular play choice. By choosing to have only one of a highly desired toy in the room, the teacher was unintentionally creating the problem that occurred. And the teacher was the one with the power to solve it.

When we set up the environment and decide how to approach and respond to children, we are the ones choosing whether there will be problems. And when problems occur, we are the ones who have the power to change the situation.

When a child exhibits a behavior that’s a “problem” or expresses to the teacher that they’re having a “problem” with another child, the first step is to determine whether there’s something in the classroom environment or routine that the teacher could change. There might not be – but if there is a chance that one small change could better support that child, meet that child where they are developmentally, or make the day easier for everyone, then it’s worth a try.

Some things to consider:

1. Are there enough materials for several children to use them at the same time, or to play easily together in a small group?

2. Are there a variety of engaging activities available so children can choose something else they’d enjoy doing while waiting for a turn for a preferred activity?

3. Do children have the ability to choose whether they want to participate in an activity, or to decline to do something that a teacher asks them to?

4. Does the teacher have reasonable, developmentally appropriate expectations for children’s behavior, including children’s ability to share, wait, take turns, and verbally express their thoughts and feelings?

And most of all:

5. When a situation isn’t working well, what can I change to make it work better?

That last one is sometimes the hardest for teachers to consider. We get so caught up in “I want the children to….” and “I expect the children to be able to…..” that we forget that the children aren’t here to do what we want or what we expect. We can want and expect all sorts of things, but in the end we need to meet the children where the children are right now. No amount of adult expectations are going to change children’s behavior. The process of social and emotional development takes a long time and a lot of practice. And while the children are developing these skills, we need to give them all the support that they need.  

Instead of only asking the child “What could you do differently next time?” the teacher should also ask themselves “What could I do differently so there isn’t a next time?” We can’t change the children, but we might have the power to change what’s causing the problem in the first place. Which will leave us all with fewer problems for anyone to have to solve.

"I'm Using It!"

“I’m using it!” I don’t know how many times a day I hear this phrase – yelled, called out loudly, emphatically, repeatedly. The four year-olds sometimes run to teachers with a complaint: “But I was using it!” Some of the two-year-olds know this phrase, but more often than not, they say it without words, by clutching the desired toy as tightly as possible.

Sometimes “I’m using it” means, “Don’t take it away from me.” Sometimes it means “Leave me alone.” Sometimes it means, “I want what you have.” But too often, instead of addressing the emotional meaning of the child’s words, teachers respond to any of these situations with lectures and rituals for sharing. 
Sharing isn’t an activity that comes naturally to very young children.  Being able to share objects, materials, and physical space comes later in early childhood, when children have the cognitive skills to consider another person’s point of view. Sharing also comes from relationships. Children who feel secure that their needs will be met, their feelings will be validated, and that they can trust other children and teachers to treat them with respect will share when they are ready. 

But even knowing this, teachers still push sharing rules on children who are not ready, not interested, and even adamantly opposed to sharing. “We all share at school.” “You can use it for two more minutes.” “Do you want to use it for two minutes or three minutes?” “We have to share with our friends.” Forcing children to share doesn’t make them more altruistic or more empathetic – it makes them feel a loss of control and increased stress about their surroundings. Imagine that you are at a meeting and the person next to you forgot their pen. They ask you to borrow your pen – but you need your pen for taking notes. How focused on the meeting can you be while wondering when you’ll get your pen back, or whether you’ll get it back in time to write down the things you need to. Imagine if at work, you were using the computer and were told, “Someone else wants to use it, you need to give it to them in two minutes” – even if you weren’t finished with your work? If we adults would feel stressed or uncomfortable in these situations, why do we expect children to feel any differently?

Instead of forcing sharing on children, we can create environments in which children feel secure that they have what they need and that their feelings are respected:

1. Provide enough materials.

A common situation that causes children to argue over materials or hesitate to share is that there aren’t enough to begin with. When there is only one of a certain toy, especially a desirable toy, conflict will often follow. Depending on the toy, the size of the group, the personalities of the children, and what other activities are available, even two might not be enough. If there’s an object that always seems to spark “sharing” discussions, consider ways to provide similar items in the classroom, and if that’s not possible, consider whether that one single item is really all that necessary to begin with.

2. Provide alternatives.

Even with the best intentions, it’s not always possible to actually provide “enough”, especially since what is “enough” changes so often based on the situation. One way to work around not having enough of a particular material is to have multiple attractive materials or activities available at the same time. Asking, “What do you want to do while you wait for a turn?”, and being able to provide suggestions (e.g. “While you’re waiting for a bike, you can go on the swings or dig in the sandbox”) can help the child focus on something other than the discomfort of waiting.

3.  Allow children to use something until they are done.

We spend so much of our time trying to “teach” children the language of turn taking by expecting them to say a number of minutes until they’ll be done, or by telling them that they have to be done in a certain number of minutes that the teacher chooses. Linking turns to “how many minutes” doesn’t make much developmental sense, since young children have a very fluid sense of time, and can’t accurately judge how much time has passed. A three-year-old answering “When will you be done?” with “Five minutes” is repeating a phrase, not making a logical assessment of time. In most cases, telling a child, “Let her know when you’re done” or “When you’re done it’s his turn” leads to the child finishing their turn even sooner. Removing the stress that there’s someone waiting in the wings to take their toy frees children up to be able to offer the toy, instead of waiting for the allotted time to be up.

4. Make time reminders visible and concrete.

If you choose to give children a specific amount of time to finish their turn, use a timer or other concrete way that they can see when their turn is over. Knowing that “when the timer goes off, it’s her turn” is easier for children to accept than an adult simply announcing, “it’s time to give her a turn.” If many children are waiting for a turn, writing their names on a list can help them feel control over the process (as adults, we like to know that our names are on a waiting list too!) The more that the children feel the turns are following a natural process, instead of being controlled by the teacher, the more willing they will be to accept the process.

5. Follow through.

Whatever method you use for taking turns, make sure that every child gets the turn that they expect or that they were promised. If you tell a child that they can paint at the easel in five minutes, but five minutes later announce it’s clean up time, that child’s needs and feelings are not being respected. It’s also important to measure time accurately. If the child has five minutes to finish their turn, then give that child the full five minutes. Even though they can’t tell time yet, children are starting to recognize the environmental and personal cues that are related to time. If we want the children to trust that their needs will be met, then we need to be sure to meet their needs.

In the end, sharing will come from respect and relationships. It will come when they are ready. Until then, we have to accept “I’m using it.”

5 Things We Say To Preschoolers

Recently I read an article called,"13 Common Sayings To Avoid". The list seemed geared to middle and high school teachers, and most of it seemed pretty obvious. I continued reading smugly until I came across one saying that I once used frequently, but that I’ve worked to eliminate from my teaching vocabulary. The phrase was well intentioned, with a clear rationale for using that particular wording, but as the years went by, I started to realize that those words might impact children’s emotional and social understandings in ways that I didn’t anticipate.

That started me thinking – what other phrases do early childhood teachers use, that, no matter how well-intentioned, might carry messages that we don’t intend?

1. “I like the way that Jenny is sitting”.

This was the phrase that caught my attention in the original article. Teachers use this phrase to call attention to desirable behavior, and it’s often seen as praising the behavior, rather than praising the child. “I like the way that you’re sitting” “I like the way that you’re cleaning up” might be motivating for the child who is performing the behavior that’s being praised, but what about the child who doesn’t hear their name? How does it feel for Amy to hear “I like the way that Jenny is ____” over and over, but not hear her own name?

Even if all the children were praised equally, this saying still focuses on praise to motivate “good” behavior, and to manipulate the other children to behave a certain way. Children shouldn’t do things to get praise from the teacher. As Alfie Kohn has written about extensively, teaching children to respond to praise is a manipulative practice that doesn’t lead to long term results.

Another way: A more emotionally honest approach is to acknowledge children with specific feedback for their behavior. “Jenny, thank you for sitting down so the people behind you can see.” “You’re being responsible by cleaning up the toys that you took out.” These phrases help children understand the effects that their behavior has on those around them, instead of reacting to praise.

2. “I need you to….”

Years ago, I was taught that I should give directions in the form “I need you to…” because this is less directive than a command. After many years of saying this, it doesn’t seem less directive at all. The words may say “I need you to pick up the blocks”, but in my position as the teacher, I’m not actually giving a choice. “I need you to” really means “I want you to” or “I expect you to” or “You have to”, and the children know that. This is another emotionally dishonest and somewhat manipulative phrase. If I say “I need you to pick up your toys”, I’m not being entirely honest, because I don’t actually “need” that. And, this is another example of manipulating children to base their behavior on what will please the teacher, instead of on what should be done out of a sense of community or shared responsibility.

Another way: Be honest and genuine when you talk about your feelings. Adults’ use of terms like “I need” and “I want” are models for children as they learn to talk about their own needs and wants. Give authentic reasons for what you’re asking children to do. “I’m going to ask you to sweep the sand that you spilled on the floor.” “We’re all having snack now, I’ll help you find a place at the table.” Linking directions with reasons for the directions help children develop a sense of responsibility and self-regulation.

3. “We’re all friends at school.”

I struggle with this one a lot – using the word “friend” when I really mean “child.” In our desire to model inclusiveness and friendship, and our fear of bullying, teachers use a lot of language referring to everyone as friends. But saying that everyone is friends diminishes the real meaning of what friendship is. And it prevents children from expressing their feelings about different people. Children can be expected to act politely or civilly to each other, to work together and cooperate, but we should not expect them to be friends with every person in the class. Also, when children say that someone isn’t their friend, there’s usually an underlying issue going on between those children that needs to be addressed, not dismissed.

Another way: Use words like “children” or “everyone” or other inclusive terms that don’t imply a specific relationship between people in the class. Respond to statements like “You’re not my friend” by trying to figure out what the underlying issue is, and help the children to work out the problem, instead of only focusing on the words they’re saying to each other.

4. “The More We Get Together the Happier We’ll Be.”

Many classrooms songs convey messages that we might not actually say to children in conversation. Like the statement about friends in #3, songs like “The More We Get Together” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lldmkrJXQ-E or that have lyrics like “We’re all in our places with bright shiny faces” dictate to children how they are expected to feel at school. The good intention of building classroom community by singing these welcome songs also carries the message that children aren’t allowed to have negative feelings about school, be unhappy there, or not want to be friends with the other children.

Another way: Think about the words of the songs that you use, and choose songs that have authentic messages about feelings and emotions. For example, a song that has the teacher welcoming the children, or the teacher saying “I’m so glad you’re here” sounds more honest than the teacher saying that all the children are happy to be there.

5. “You can’t say you can’t play”.

As a way to prevent bullying and exclusion, we often insist that children play with anyone who wants to play with them. As well meaning as this seems, telling children that they have to play with anyone – or let anyone join in their play – removes their choices about who they spend time with and how they spend their time. If we believe that “play is children’s work”, by dictating children’s play partners, we are interfering with their planning and decision processes about that work. As adults, most of us would resent it if a friend or co-worker insisted on telling us the solutions to crossword puzzle, or walked into our kitchen and started adding ingredients what we’re cooking. A child not allowing others to join in might just be protecting their own work space.

There’s also the issue of how controlling children’s choice of play partners teaches them about consent. When we tell children that they have to play with someone, we could be preventing them from bullying, but we’re also teaching them not to say no to bullies in the future. If we want to raise children who have the confidence to express their opinions and choices, especially when exposed to social pressure, we need to respect their choices of who to play with.

Another way: Respect children’s choices, but also model positive social interactions. Teachers can model inclusiveness by inviting children who don’t usually play with each other to join in an activity initiated by the teacher. If a child seems to be avoiding or excluding a peer, try to figure out the reason behind it, and find ways to alter the environment or materials to encourage these children to be more comfortable playing with each other.

If our goal is for children to develop social and emotional competency, and to be able to honestly express their feelings in a constructive way, then we need to provide environments that encourage children to do this. Teachers should say what we mean, and respect children’s rights to express their emotions in the classroom.

Circle Time and Distractions

In my classroom, the schedule always includes an additional act between clean-up time and sitting down for circle time. The teachers cover the shelves of toys to indicate that the toys are put away (or “resting” or “closed”) during circle time. I’ve been doing this for years, in different age groups, and in different schools. I always thought of this as helping the children to self-regulate. If free play isn’t an available choice, then the toys shouldn’t look like they’re available. Covering them prevents the problem of having to interrupt circle time to stop a child from fiddling with a toy on a nearby shelf. I always thought of the shelf covers as a useful visual cue to remind children that “the toys are closed.”

I never stopped to wonder why I want the toys to be “closed” in the first place.

I’ve had many discussions with other teachers over the years about what is allowed behavior at and during circle time. All toys in the room must be put away, including loveys and items from home. Sometimes children must put away their hats, bracelets, barrettes. Children must sit on their bottoms and not touch the child next to them, even to hold hands. The common reason behind all of these limits is that those behaviors - holding a toy, holding a friend’s hand, fiddling with one’s bracelet or hat, are “distractions.”

Distractions from what?

Distractions from listening to the teacher. Because that is what circle time is usually about, even in play-based preschools with emergent curriculum and child-directed play throughout the rest of the day. As soon as circle time starts, the power, control, and decision making rest squarely in the teacher. What songs to sing, games to play, books to read (or, more accurately, to listen to) are the teacher’s choice. For years, circle time was when I put on my performance - reading, singing, dancing, all with children’s involvement, but with me leading the show. The children’s job at circle time was to follow my lead and do what I’ve decided they should do. I cover up the toys to hide any distractions that will keep them from doing anything but participate in the activity that I chose.

But if my activity is so engaging, why I am I worried about distractions?

Whenever we worry that something will be a distraction, we’re saying that that object, conversation, or idea will interfere in what the adults have dictated will happen next. Which often is what circle time is. The rationale for a distinct circle time that all the children are present at is usually has to do with “learning to come together as a group” or “being part of the classroom community.” But if a child would rather look at a book independently, or do a puzzle, or draw, and we compel that child to be physically present at circle time, that doesn’t build community.

There are all sorts of times for coming together in my classroom, and I’ve often found the richest are ones that weren’t scripted or planned. When I start reading a book, I usually find half the class or more coming over to hear the story. When I turn on music and start to dance, or take out musical instruments, sometimes the entire class stops building, drawing, or playing with other toys to join in. If I start to sing a rhyming song or ABC’s, I can hear voices singing along with me all over the classroom while they continue their play. If the activity is meaningful to and engaging for the children, I don’t need to compel them to participate, and I don’t need to worry about them being distracted.

If I’m worried that the children could get distracted so easily, perhaps I should consider whether what I’m doing is all that engaging in the first place.

Emotional Risk, Bruised Feelings, Resilient Kids

Lately I’ve been reading a lot about “risky play” – the idea that children need opportunities to engage in play that involves physical risks. Our collective fear of physical injury, however slight, has led parents and schools to limit or ban play that might involve physical risk (or for schools, that might involve liability suits). Recently there has been a push back against the movement to “bubble wrap” our kids, as educators, psychologists, and “free-range” parents extol the virtues of physical play that might involve scrapes and bruises.

But what about play that involves emotional risk?

Even in schools where teachers extol the virtues of climbing trees, stacking rocks, and letting children hang upside down from the monkey bars, teachers are still often vigilant about protecting kids from emotional risk. Rules like “You can’t say you can’t play” and “We use nice words at school”, intentional grouping of children to promote some friendship groups and break up others, and immediate adult intervention if a problem arises (whether it’s a block tower falling down or another child saying they don’t want to sit next to another child) create an environment where children are bubble-wrapped, cushioned, and shielded against sadness, disappointment, or anger.

We’ve confused risk with danger.

As adults, we have a responsibility to protect children from danger. We don’t leave jagged pieces of metal or broken shards of glass within reach. We put guard rails at the top of the slide, and padding under the monkey bars. We use seat belts and car seats. We have a responsibility to try to prevent serious injury, but we can’t prevent every injury. We need to learn, as teachers, parents, and caregivers, to distinguish between a puncture wound and a bruise. Bruises, scrapes, and splinters are unpleasant but non-threatening risks that are part of interacting with the physical world around us. Each bruise or scrape gives a child a chance to assess risk and develop the skill set to avoid a more potentially serious injury the next time around. And each bruise or scrape gives a child a chance to recover.

In The Blessing of a Skinned Knee, psychologist Wendy Mogel writes, “Real protection means teaching children to manage risks on their own, not shielding them from every hazard….If parents rush in to rescue them from distress, children don’t get an opportunity to learn that they can suffer and recover on their own.”

In our drive to keep children from suffering, we’ve forgotten that it’s also our responsibility to teach them how to recover. It’s our responsibility to help them learn that a bruise isn’t the same thing as a puncture.

We need to do this with emotions as well. Our vigilance to keep feelings from being hurt, to keep anyone from feeling excluded, to prevent disappointment at all costs, robs children of the important skill of learning to deal with these emotional bruises. Teachers who jump in to intervene the moment a child says “I don’t want to sit next to you”, parents who carry six different snacks so they’ll always have exactly what their child wants, are shielding their child from normal risk just as much as if they stopped their child from picking up a stick for fear of splinters. Bruised feelings, just like bruised skin, will happen. Our job as adults is to help children develop the emotional resilience to recover from the bruise and move on, and to teach them to recognize the difference between a bruise and a puncture.