Loose Parts in the Housekeeping Area

I first introduced loose parts play into my three-year-old classroom five years ago. There were already loose parts in my classroom, but not that I had brought in with the specific intention of children using them in open ended ways for their own purposes. The science shelves had baskets of rocks, acorns, and shells with the intention that the children would experience “science” by studying these natural objects with the magnifying glasses and mirrors neatly arranged next to them. They rarely did. But what they did do was take out the rocks and shells, line them up, arrange them into circles and designs, fill bowls, bags, purses, and baskets, and carry them to other parts of the classroom, where most often, they turned into pretend food.

At the same time, my co-teacher and I noticed that there wasn’t much play in the housekeeping/kitchen area. Children went into the area, but didn’t seem to be pretending or even interacting with each other. They’d take out pieces of plastic food and hold a plastic apple or orange tightly in hand, or fiddle with the knobs on the pretend stove, but there wasn’t much social or complex play going on. We decided to see what would happen if we changed the materials: if we took out the plastic food that wasn’t eliciting play, and replaced it with the baskets of rocks, acorns, and tree circles that the children found so engaging. We added dried plants that gave the suggestion of food, but weren’t clearly representing familiar foods like the plastic playsets were.

Right away we noticed a difference. 

There children immediately began to spend more time in the housekeeping area, filling plates and cups and arranging materials on plates. 

The social play increased too, as the activity turned from picking up a single piece of plastic fruit to complex negotiations of passing baskets around, trading pieces, and passing out objects to each other. The rocks, acorns, and tree circles became ice cream, cookies, and soup. Conflict about sharing and turn taking disappeared, because there was so much of each item. Our plastic playset had only one or two of each kind of fruit, but we had a nearly limitless amount of pebbles and acorns that could be passed around so everyone could have some.
 

As loose parts play took hold in the classroom, the children’s play in every area transformed. Baskets of shells or wooden tree circles were no longer just for “science”. The children brought them to the housekeeping area, hid them in the sensory table, and added them to manipulative and block constructions. As time went by, and in following years, the housekeeping area became less a distinct place intended for pretend cooking, but more a just piece of furniture that looked like kitchen equipment, that was used to hold the rocks, glass beads, dried plants, pom poms, wood circles, and other objects that the children used in infinite ways of their own choosing. They often still used the loose parts as pretend food, but they felt free to use these materials in other ways as well, which is what I wanted as a teacher – not for children to use the materials the way I intended them, but for them to figure out – and act on - their own intentions.

For more about intentional planning for loose parts play:

http://exploreinspireec.blogspot.com/2017/05/loose-parts-in-sensory-table.html

http://exploreinspireec.blogspot.com/2017/05/introducing-loose-parts-playdough.html

http://exploreinspireec.blogspot.com/2017/04/loose-parts-and-intentional-environments.html

Getting Out of Their Way

One of the interesting features of full day programs is that there are often times at the beginning and the end of the day when there are only a few children in the room. It’s a perfect time for child directed play. But sometimes during these parts in the day, I wonder what I should be doing while the children play. There’s plenty of child directed play going on during other parts of the day too. But when all the children are at school and the class is spread across the room involved in half a dozen different activities, it’s rare for teachers to have a moment to step back at all. While some of the children might be able and even happy to sustain their own play without teacher involvement, chances are some of the rest will either need or want a teacher playing with or working alongside them. But when it’s only two or three children, deeply engaged in a world they’ve created for themselves, what should the teacher do?

I watched as one child lined up blocks and the other brought over a picnic basket. “Do you want some cookies?” he asked, opening the basket. The block builder accepted a cookie, and then pulled out a stuffed cat from a nearby basket. “But the kitty’s in the middle. The kitty’s gonna come out.” Soon the picnic was being shared by three stuffed cats.

“Here come the zombies,” one of the children announced. “Let’s pretend the kitties are scared. They can also fly. These are like jet packs.” They flew their kitties flew around the room for a bit, then sat down on the couch. And then the conversation took a more somber turn.

“Let’s pretend the mom died. And this kitty is dead. He’s dead. But not really.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the child with the dead kitty look at me slightly, and turn away quickly when my eyes almost met his. I stepped back and turned away, pretending to straighten some paper on the shelves. He pointed to the other cat. “This one is also sad right now because he wanted his mom.”

His friend looked at him thoughtfully, then, carrying the cat, went over to a basket and brought back some snap together gears, reaching out to hand them to him. “But he’s going to find him some toys. It’s a three wheel toy. It’s called a monster car.”

They sat and fiddled with the gears, holding the cats in their laps. They moved the gears around back and forth. There was little conversation, and no invitation for me to join in. I watched, as quiet as they were.

Then the second child, who had brought over a monster car for the sad cat who was missing his mom, spoke up. 

“Is this the mom? Because I’m going to get her back alive.” He carried the cat to the sand table and placed her inside, moving her back and forth in the sand. “I’m going to put her in here because it’s a safe place.”

He glanced sideways at me, then shyly smiled, as if suddenly aware that they were being watched. The two children looked at each other, then at me, and dropped their cats and went to play with something else. Quiet as I was, my presence broke into the world of pretense where dead mommy cats can be brought back to life. And what if I had spoken earlier or had tried to bring myself into their play instead of trying to not intrude?  Would the spell have been broken sooner?

Even harder than teaching is not teaching. Sitting and doing nothing – not even making eye contact – seems the opposite of teaching. But sometimes that’s what children need. Not direction, suggestion, or facilitation, but the teacher being there just in case she’s needed. And if she’s not needed, getting out of the way of their play. I’m reminded of Waldorf teachers sitting in rocking chairs absorbed in handwork, being present but not intrusive, as the world of the child’s mind unfolds around them. Sometimes the best way we can teach is simply by getting out of the way.

Transporting and Transforming Loose Parts

One of my favorite materials to use with older preschoolers are large glass beads (aka glass beads or sea glass). You can buy them in bulk at dollar stores or craft stores, and the children use them in limitless ways – as pretend food, for sorting, or for arranging into patterns and designs.

Unfortunately they’re too small for toddlers and twos, or for any child who puts objects in their mouths. So I was thrilled to finally find glass beads and shapes that were bigger. Just to be sure, I checked them with a choke tube to make sure they were too wide to be choking hazards.

I put the beads out on a brightly colored metal tray, and some more in a bowl next to it, surrounded by a few different types of containers.

As the two-year-olds began to explore these new materials, their focus was mainly on transporting the beads from one container to another. A few of the children gave the containers a careful shake, and then a more energetic shake, noticing the difference in sound as the beads rattled against wood or against metal.

Soon other children came over to see what was going on, and wanted beads of their own. One of the beauties of loose parts play is that there’s usually a lot of the loose parts materials, which makes it easier to share, even if you’re two-years-old. The child carrying the bulk of the beads in a wooden box carefully reached inside and pulled out two beads to hand to each child. Two beads – one for each hand – seemed to be a satisfying solution for everyone, and they sat, examining their beads.

As the morning went on, more beads were passed from child to child, and more containers were filled. Soon, some of the beads were transformed into “gold doubloons” that were hidden in “treasure boxes.” Some were carried to the kitchen and transformed into food to put into the oven, and water to pour into the sink.

And some beads stayed on the shelf, as children transported them from one container to another, sometimes with their fingers, sometimes by pouring from one container to another, watching as the physical arrangement changed as the beads were lined up, stacked up, or simply put into a pile in a bowl.

Housekeeping Without a Table

Over the years, I’ve started thinking that the “Housekeeping Area” (or “house corner” or “kitchen area”) isn’t the best use of space in my preschool classroom. For starters, I’ve moved away from the idea of interest areas in general. Materials are stored on accessible shelves, and children are free to use them however and wherever in the room they like. The magnifying glasses might be used for looking at fall leaves, or they might be used to stir sand in the sensory table, or put in toy purses for a pretend shopping trip. Children pretend to make and eat food in all areas of the room – why does there need to be one area of the room focusing on that one pretend theme?

There’s also the fact that the historical context of “housekeeping” has changed. Years ago, a classroom area fitted with kitchen appliances and toy food was thought to be the most familiar setting for young children, who presumably spent their days at home watching their mothers prepare meals, wash dishes, clean house, and iron clothing. Today’s children might not actually see much cooking going on, and might not be familiar with any appliance besides a microwave.

My two-year-olds rarely play with the appliances. They make soup by putting objects into a bowl, and don’t bother to put it on the pretend stovetop. They bake cookies by arranging objects on a plate and putting them on any surface. The only appliance they use with any regularity is the toy microwave, and that might be for the attraction of pressing the buttons on the front.

So, I’ve gradually gotten rid of many of the distinct “kitchen” items. The stove/sink combos are still there, but with the doors taken off, so that the materials are easier to see and to take out (without worrying about doors shutting on fingers). I’ve added loose parts like wood circles and pompoms to the plastic food, providing more opportunities for open ended, creative, imaginative play.

The most recent change came when I changed classrooms this year. Our new classroom is short of free wall space, so there isn’t a nook or “corner” to put the housekeeping furniture in. The stove/sinks fit against a wall, but there was no place to put a table in front without blocking the open space we planned to use for block building, active play, and spreading materials out on the rug.

Does a housekeeping area really need a table?

I thought about how the housekeeping table tended to be used in my twos room. Children would take out all of the dishes and food, sometimes entire baskets of materials, and fill the table. Following toddlers’ natural desire to fill empty spaces, the activity focused on more filling the flat surface of an empty table with any available objects, than on thematic pretend play, or any activity involving planning or intentional selection of materials.

We have plenty of tables in the room, so even if a table wasn’t placed as part of a housekeeping area, children could still choose to use one for food and dishes. So we decided not to put a table right in front of the stove/sink.

Instead of carrying kitchen materials over to the table, the children moved their food and dishes onto the floor. The new room arrangement provided a lot of open space in front of the shelves where the materials were kept, and many children chose to play sitting right in front of the shelves, even arranging the materials without taking them off. Being close to the block area meant that children carried objects to the blocks, creating casual tables on stacks of blocks. There was also much more intentional choice of materials. Having the space to spread out the dishes led to children arranging them in lines, across a large part of the rug, and carefully choosing pieces of food to place in each dish. So far there hasn’t been the mad scramble to take out every object and fill up the table top – in fact, so far, no one has even moved the food to a table at all.