Often in my work over the past few years I have heard teachers telling children "you have to share." or children running up and saying "so and so is not sharing with me." My question is, what does it mean to share? Too often I think our answer is that, one person has to give up what they have, so that someone else can have it instead. Perhaps sometimes we mean that something must be split fairly between people. But what is fair? And who decides? In my classroom one of the only rules is that when there is a disagreement the children can't proceed until everyone involved in the conflict is satisfied with the outcome. When this is the expectation, the solutions are often ones that I couldn't have imagined, and that meet the needs of each child in a way that I couldn't have done on my own.
A glimpse into the classroom:
We are at the playground and two children have been climbing up the rock wall. One of the children reaches the top, then rushes down the slide, and runs in front of the other child who is about to begin climbing. The child who was about the begin his assent starts to yell, and when the other child keeps climbing he asks me for help. I tell the climber to get down so we can figure out what to do. The following conversation ensues between Child 1 (C1) Child 2 (C2) and the teacher (T):
C1- I was about to climb up there, and you just got right in front of me.
C2- I really wanted to climb up.
C1- But I really wanted to climb up!
T- It seems like we have a problem. You both really want to climb up. What can we do?
C1- I know! We can take turns.
T- That sounds like a good idea, but how will you know who will go first?
C1- I will.
C2- No. Me.
T- It seems like you are still stuck because you both want to go first. I wonder what you can figure out so you will both be happy.
C1-I have an idea. How about since he just wants to go so bad right now, he could climb half way up, then jump down, and then i could go two times. How does that sound?
T (to c2)- what do you think of that idea?
C2- yeah!
Child 2 climbs halfway up, then jumps down and child 1 climbs up twice in a row. Both seem happy, and continue to take turns one at a time.
On another day...
Two children are arguing over a toy dinosaur they have found in a basket. They are pulling the dinosaur and yelling over one another. I walk over and ask what is going on. The following conversation occurs:
C1- I really want to use that dinosaur and I had it first!
C2-No! I had it first!
C1-No! I did!
T- Well I didn't see who had it first. Why don't I hold on to it, until you can work something out that you both agree to, and then I will give it to whoever you decide.
C1- We could share it.
T- What does that mean?
C1- I don't know. We could take turns?
C2- Yeah, and I will get it first, then you can have it.
C1- No. I will have it first then you can have it.
Child 2 shakes his head
T- I notice there are lots of other dinosaurs.
C1- yeah! How bout you use this one (brings over another one) and I use this one (pointing to the one that the teacher is holding).
C2- No! I want to use that one (pointing to the dinosaur the teacher is holding)
C1- how about if he uses that one, and I have this one for five minutes then I give it to him?
T (to c2)- what do you think of that idea?
Child 2 shakes his head no.
T- He doesn't agree. I guess we will have to think of something else. (to child 2) Since you don't like his idea, what is your idea?
C2- Just, I have it for a few minutes then trade.
Child 1 shakes his head no.
T- It doesn't sound like you are in agreement. I wonder if there is a different way to decide who gets it first.
C1- I know! How about if you hide it somewhere in the classroom and we have to close our eyes and try to find it, and whoever finds it first gets to use it.
T (to c2)- Does that seem like a good idea?
C2- Yeah. I think so.
T- So you both agree that whoever finds it first will get to use it first?
Both children nod their heads.
C2- But don't hide it somewhere easy, because then if we both find it at the same time, we will have to do this all over again!
C1- Yeah! And no peeking!
So what...
What is beautiful to me about these two scenarios is that they demonstrate what is possible when two people forced to talk and one person doesn't have the upper hand. So often in our classrooms, and in our communities there is one person (or group of people) holding the power, and another who gets the short end of the stick. So often both parties miss out on the opportunity for deeper understanding of each others needs, and of their own capacity to compromise.
It is easy to create a space with equal power in a classroom when all you have to do is hold a toy and ask questions. But how can we create those spaces in the rest of our world when the expectation isn't about everyone being happy, and power is clung to SO tightly. How can we re-create the power dynamics so that it is possible for everyone to be heard and to get what they need?
My thoughts this evening are drawn to the Occupy movement, and it's potential for taking steps in this direction. I am grateful to all of those who are working toward this end, no matter what it looks like, and I hope that in making this the expectation for children at a young age, it will be easier, or come more naturally to them as they become older and move out into a community that sees them as part of the society. Perhaps they will even come to expect it of each other.
31 October, 2011
10 October, 2011
Let's talk about differences...
Today I am thinking about the difference between equality and equity. As a Quaker I believe deeply in the equality of all people. But how does that translate into my work? Does equality of Spirit correlate to treating everyone the same?
As a white person I am aware of the way in which my tendency to "not see difference" or to say that "we are all the same" actually undermines efforts to truly achieve equality. And I have learned that these statements for me do not have integrity (another Quaker value I hold dear).
A glimpse into the classroom:
One of the children "Sandy" in my class of young toddlers has down's syndrome. She has low muscle tone in her legs and often sits alone on the playground. When we heard that Sandy needed a push toy as a way to build muscle tone my co-teacher and I had a discussion which revealed a lot about our differing understandings of what equality looks like, and about our fears regarding fairness. My co-teacher took the standpoint that we couldn't possibly introduce this toy into the classroom because it wouldn't be fair to the other children who would want to use it. She also didn't want to stigmatize Sandy by giving her special treatment and opening her up to the possibility of embarrassment, or ridicule.
I understood where she was coming from, and I too didn't want to create a difficult situation for this child, and I responded to my co-teacher: Of course other children will want to use that toy. My question is, do they need to use it? I believe that if we are honest with children about the difference between wanting something and needing something that they can understand this concept, and will actually be much more accepting than we fear they will be.
In fact I believe that children may have a greater capacity for this type of acceptance than many adults do, and that often in our "good intentions" of denying differences that are clearly there (i.e. skin color, physical conditions, visible deformities, behavioral outbursts etc.) by telling children not to notice, we are actually teaching them that difference is something that we can't talk about, that it is bad, and I believe we are teaching that it is to be feared.
So... after many conversations, we brought the push toy into the classroom. Several children were, as my co-teacher expected interested in using it. When they asked, we would answer, "Did you notice that Sandy is still learning how to walk? This toy helps her be able to walk better, and that's why she has it. You already know how to walk. So you don't really need that toy. If there is a time when Sandy isn't using it, and you want to try it out, you can, but if Sandy wants it back, you need to give it to her."
And the children understood. After about a week they started bringing the toy to Sandy, cheering for her when she took her first steps, and even running over to announce to the teachers what a great job she was doing at walking. From an adult perspective this might seem condescending, however for these children their excitement for Sandy was real. It was the same excitement they felt for themselves when they accomplished a new task (something they work hard to do every day) or completed something that made them feel like a "big kid". I believe they were celebrating Sandy's growth and accomplishment right alongside her, and as I watched I wished there could be more times like that in my adult life, when members of my community would be willing to support me in such a way.
So what...
An Early Childhood Educator from Reggio Emilia, Elena Giacopini writes:
Inclusion does not mean starndardization and it does not mean integration. Inclusion requires and demands differences in dialogue. It doesn't require that one adapts to the other but, rather, mutual adaptation, the invention of a new way of being together.
This is my hope not only for children in my classroom, but for our world as a whole. And I wonder, how often do I let my assumptions, my belief that my own experience is reality, and my fear of that which is unfamiliar shut down the possibilities for community, and for dialogue with those who's experiences are different than my own? What could be gained if I let go of my fear, and my desire to be right? What might I learn?
One of the children "Sandy" in my class of young toddlers has down's syndrome. She has low muscle tone in her legs and often sits alone on the playground. When we heard that Sandy needed a push toy as a way to build muscle tone my co-teacher and I had a discussion which revealed a lot about our differing understandings of what equality looks like, and about our fears regarding fairness. My co-teacher took the standpoint that we couldn't possibly introduce this toy into the classroom because it wouldn't be fair to the other children who would want to use it. She also didn't want to stigmatize Sandy by giving her special treatment and opening her up to the possibility of embarrassment, or ridicule.
I understood where she was coming from, and I too didn't want to create a difficult situation for this child, and I responded to my co-teacher: Of course other children will want to use that toy. My question is, do they need to use it? I believe that if we are honest with children about the difference between wanting something and needing something that they can understand this concept, and will actually be much more accepting than we fear they will be.
In fact I believe that children may have a greater capacity for this type of acceptance than many adults do, and that often in our "good intentions" of denying differences that are clearly there (i.e. skin color, physical conditions, visible deformities, behavioral outbursts etc.) by telling children not to notice, we are actually teaching them that difference is something that we can't talk about, that it is bad, and I believe we are teaching that it is to be feared.
So... after many conversations, we brought the push toy into the classroom. Several children were, as my co-teacher expected interested in using it. When they asked, we would answer, "Did you notice that Sandy is still learning how to walk? This toy helps her be able to walk better, and that's why she has it. You already know how to walk. So you don't really need that toy. If there is a time when Sandy isn't using it, and you want to try it out, you can, but if Sandy wants it back, you need to give it to her."
And the children understood. After about a week they started bringing the toy to Sandy, cheering for her when she took her first steps, and even running over to announce to the teachers what a great job she was doing at walking. From an adult perspective this might seem condescending, however for these children their excitement for Sandy was real. It was the same excitement they felt for themselves when they accomplished a new task (something they work hard to do every day) or completed something that made them feel like a "big kid". I believe they were celebrating Sandy's growth and accomplishment right alongside her, and as I watched I wished there could be more times like that in my adult life, when members of my community would be willing to support me in such a way.
So what...
An Early Childhood Educator from Reggio Emilia, Elena Giacopini writes:
Inclusion does not mean starndardization and it does not mean integration. Inclusion requires and demands differences in dialogue. It doesn't require that one adapts to the other but, rather, mutual adaptation, the invention of a new way of being together.
This is my hope not only for children in my classroom, but for our world as a whole. And I wonder, how often do I let my assumptions, my belief that my own experience is reality, and my fear of that which is unfamiliar shut down the possibilities for community, and for dialogue with those who's experiences are different than my own? What could be gained if I let go of my fear, and my desire to be right? What might I learn?
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