"I'm angry!" Stephen yelled and stormed out of the blocks center. "No." Ana replied calmly as she rolled the toy fire truck back and forth on the floor. "I want the fire truck! I'm so angry!" Stephen yelled and stomped his feet. Ana continued rolling the truck, and Stephen glared at her. "Stephen,"
I intervened, "I can tell how mad you are because your arms are crossed
and you're using a loud voice. I'm proud that you used your words." "But I want the fire truck!" Stephen yelled and tears started streaming down his face.
Learning how to identify and solve social problems can be
challenging for young children. In my classroom, we spend a great deal
of time at the beginning of the year discussing, role playing, and
practicing how you can identify and solve problems. Students learn how
to label and identify emotions in themselves and other people (e.g. "I
know that you are frustrated because your eyes are scrunched and your
body is tight."), which is the foundation of problem solving. They
then learn what they can do to solve problems: calm themselves down,
use words to explain what happened, and generate possible solutions.
Today,
Stephen demonstrated some tremendous progress in terms of social
problem solving. At the beginning of last year when Stephen was angry,
he would kick, hit, scream, and cry. He did not know how to label his
own emotions, and he had trouble taking the perspective of other
people. In this anecdote, Stephen is clearly able to label his own
feelings, and, while his response is not ideal, it does keep everybody
safe. I took this brief "teachable moment" as a time to use physical
and verbal cues to discern his feelings, and reinforce all his hard
work.
From there, we were able to transform Stephen's
frustration into a literacy activity. I knew Stephen needed to
distance himself from the fire truck and engage with different
materials, so I suggested that he write Ana a note to tell her how he
was feeling. Stephen got excited about this idea, and quickly sat down
to write. "How do you spell Ana?" he asked. I showed him her name
tag, and he copied it correctly. We then thought about what he wanted
to tell her, and he decided on, "Let me play with that all by myself."
We counted the words in his sentence and I wrote one line on his paper
to represent each word. Then Stephen began sounding out the message.
He ended up with, "L M P W d o b msAf," -- essentially wroting the
beginning sound for each word in his message, plus some middle and
ending sounds in "myself." He signed his name at the bottom, and we
reread the message together.
Stephen walked back over to the blocks center and proudly reread
his note to Ana. He gave her the paper, and she handed him the truck.
Both students were happy, and they each learned a great deal in the
process!
In the past year there have been numerous reports of school administrators banning various behaviors on the playground. For example, a school in Minneapolis, Minnesota banned touching due to rough housing incidents. A school in Spokane, Washington has enforced a "no running" policy in order to maintain order on the playground. These instances make me wonder, if you can’t touch the hand of a classmate or run on a playground, where are students going to learn these skills?
My style as a teacher is to assume nothing. Each student that walks in my door has a different life story and varying degrees of learning experiences. It is my job to set expectations and parameters and to work with my class to develop rules and logical consequences that we can live by during our time to together. This takes a lot of work. In fact, the first 5-6 weeks of my school year are devoted entirely to this process. We learn appropriate ways to use our materials and equipment and also agree on how to handle difficult situations with our friends.
Our school shares a large wooden playground with the neighboring elementary school. Weather permitting, I take my students outside daily for at least 15 minutes. This is an important time for them to work their developing muscles, practice motor planning and interact socially with their peers. I can’t imagine the horror of having to enforce a "no touching" or "no running" policy! With enough practice and consistency from the teachers and assistants in our program, we've been able to create an active, safe and appropriate playground environment for all of our students.
One of the main reasons that playground behavior is an issue for school communities is because some teachers and administrators fail to see the playground as an extension of their classroom or school building. Expectations and logical consequences need to be created, practiced and enforced. Playground monitors, often in charge of recess supervision while we teachers grab lunch, need to know the rules and enforcement policies in order to maintain order. With persistence, patience and consistency it is possible to maintain a safe and fun playground environment for students without taking the running out of recess.
Karen's grandmother told me from day one that she was concerned about her granddaughter's social skills. She had never been to school before and spent most of her time around adults: uncles, grandparents, and cousins. Karen already excelled in basic literacy and math skills after working with her great grandmother, a retired school teacher, one-on-one for the past year. Her transformation into a highly sociable member of our classroom community highlights the benefits of pre-k, even for those children who can attain academic readiness at home.
Karen's experiences made her quite focused on reading, writing, and interacting with Ms. Morrison and me in the fall. She chose to read in the Library, play with Table Toys, or paint by herself during Choice Time. Like David she was quite hesitant to join her fellow four year olds in more social areas such as Dramatic Play and Blocks. Yet she listened to and comprehended stories read on the rug, could write her name, and was starting to make connections between letters and their sounds. While I kept challenging her with her academics, I knew the real challenge for Karen would be developing relationships with her peers.
I exposed Karen to the same community building lessons as David. But whole group songs about our friends and puppet role plays did not motivate Karen to socialize with her friends. She would cheer on her friends and participate in role plays at the rug, but then continue to play on her own during choice time. I needed to use a more proactive and involved approach that both reflected Karen's current comfort level and built on that comfort level to further her social development.
Karen gravitated toward and listened to me because I was an adult. So, I invited her to play with me and then suggested we either join her peers or invite them to play with us. She agreed and, over time, discovered how much fun her friends could be! I remember her laughing with Samar in the Discovery Area while they tested magnets with various materials. She even started problem solving independently with her friends in December.
Karen has come a long way since September. Just this week, she chose to go to Dramatic Play and was soon taking her friends' orders at our pretend restaurant. She and her friends joked about changing their names in the Sand Area last month. She still sometimes prefers "alone time," like when she became adamant about separating the seal and the alligator in the Water Area so the seal would be safe, as shown in the picture. Yet she frequently experiences the very social interactions that will help her build and nurture relationships for years to come.
Four months ago David’s mother remarked that she wants her son to go “sky high in life." Now, as he begins to transition to kindergarten, David shows tremendous social and academic progress. His story shows how high quality pre-k supports multiple facets of childhood development.
Socially, David adjusted to our rules and routines fairly quickly back in the fall, but he tended to avoid playing with others and participating actively in large group activities. He was reluctant to sing along with the group or respond during a read-aloud. He preferred playing with dinosaurs by himself in the Discovery area to playing with his friends in more populated areas such as Blocks and Sand. The challenge was to have him go beyond just following all the rules as an individual and begin collaborating more with his peers and participating during whole group lessons.
To help his growth in this area, I encouraged David and his classmates to support their friends by cheering them on with individualized chants (e.g., There is a friend who’s in our class and David is his name-o, d-a-v-i-d, d-a-v-i-d, d-a-v-i-d, and David is his name-o). I also used stories and puppet role plays to facilitate discussions about how we can help each other solve problems (e.g., if our friends are struggling with a task, we can help them remember the “Little Engine that Could” by saying, “I think you can, I think you can” or if a friend does not get picked for something we can say, “oh well, you’ll get it next time,” just like “Susan the Squirrel” puppet did for her friend, “Danny the Dog” puppet).
David soon started having breakthrough moments. He expressed pride in himself by informing his mother of his “purple” status (a reward system I use) the moment she picked him up. The next day, David would let me know how proud his dad was when he told him. He also started contributing more on the rug. Just this week David got to purple for his active participation throughout the day. In terms of playing with others, David often travels between play areas with friends, most notably last week when he and Tyrique together made newspaper hats in the Art Area and drew a pirate adventure on the chalk board in the Writing Area.
Academically, David came in to pre-k knowing some letters and was starting to write his name, but he had difficulty counting, making connections between letters and their sounds, and forming letters. I soon made him the snack manager, which required him to count his friends every day. We also worked with him in small group on name puzzles and exposed him to print and letter sounds at every opportunity. His mother was also quickly responsive to my efforts to invest her in David’s progress; his father soon followed. They worked with him on writing the sight words we learned in school, labeling pictures he drew with the beginning letter of each objects and person, challenged David with opportunities to count with everyday routines (e.g., the number of dishes needed for dinner or shirts in the laundry), and, as they noted in their New Year’s Resolution, read with him every night. His father remarked at one of our conferences that David was so excited about books, he would stop his father repeatedly during stories to make comments. I kept them updated on specific strengths, weaknesses, and ways they could move him forward. I could tell from looking at his writing and hearing him explore letter sounds that his parents were using the strategies at home.
David can now write short sentences with little guidance and is starting to sound out words. Furthermore, he not only counts to twenty, usually without mistakes, but also suggests using counting to figure out the answer to a question (e.g., how do we know that more students voted for apples as their favorite fruit?).
David, like all of my children, came to me in September with strengths and room to grow, both socially and academically. I responded to these complexities with a multifaceted approach that reflects and addresses the needs of the whole child. His progress highlights the potential of pre-k to impact several developmental areas positively and the important, collaborative role parents can play in laying a strong foundation for their children.
The other day I was reminded of the importance of solidifying positive and peaceful attitudes early on in pre-k. I overheard a teacher reprimanding a first-grade student in the hallway for hitting another child. The teacher simply said, “You cannot hit her, it’s not nice. Do you understand?” When the child did not respond, the teacher said, in a more abrasive tone, “Say YES!.” The child then said “yes,” as commanded, and the teacher moved on.
I had to wonder how effective that child will be in solving problems on his own. Perhaps his teachers to date have not taught social skills effectively. Or possibly he has experienced things that have undermined the endurance of those skills in the long run. The incident caused me to reflect on my efforts this year.
I start teaching our peaceful and empowering approach in the beginning of the school year. The process entails direct whole-group instruction through puppet role plays, books about friends and feelings such as Words are not for Hurting, and songs like “The More We Get Together.” In these activities, we use consistent language like, “I feel sad when you [fill in the blank].” Add to this many one-on-one, informal teachable moments, and gradually the children gain an understanding of why they should use their words instead of their hands.
By December, my students were able to follow through with a “peace agreement”, but I served a dominant role in the initial stages of the process. Since then, the children have made even more progress and now take ownership of the peace process from the beginning. For instance, David used to suggest that characters in our stories use violence to solve problems. If the Cat in the Hat won’t leave, David suggested, we should “hit him on the head.” Now, he is more likely to recommend talking through problems. When we discussed recently how the farmer in Farmer Duck exploits duck and refuses to do any work, David chose peaceful means over violent ones, advising the duck to tell the farmer, “Please, can you help me?.”
Other children still require occasional reminders and encouragement, but their skills are clearly developing. Tyrone’s first inclination during a recent read aloud was to hit the animals that had stolen a character’s fruit. After I asked him, “Do we hit animals or people?” he offered an alternative measure: “I would tell the animals that I won’t ride them no more.” Similarly, Jeffrey came to inform me today that another student would not let him play with a certain toy. All I had to say was, “Work it out on your own,” and Jeffrey returned to the student to say, “I feel sad when you won’t let me play with it.”
Pre-k teachers - indeed, all teachers - have an obligation to teach conflict resolution in a way that empowers students to solve problems peacefully. I want my students to leave pre-k with the rationale and language needed to facilitate peaceful conflict resolution so that, throughout their lives, they will rarely, if ever, receive a scolding like that first grader in the hall. Perhaps if we start with pre-k classrooms that provide students with such tools, we will lay the foundation for a society that more closely embodies Immanuel Kant’s vision of enduring peace between people and states.
I was concerned last week when a recent report linking child care to later behavioral problems in children grabbed headlines. I can only imagine the guilt that parents who have children in such programs felt upon hearing this news. But the reality is far from the “damned if you do, damned if you don’t” picture painted in the media.
High quality pre-k offers the chance for young children to learn how to express themselves appropriately in a wide range of social interactions, how to solve conflicts with peers, and how to function productively in a structured school environment.
The first thing my children learn is how to follow set routines. Many come in without any previous childcare experience. Their first week behaviors have included children leaving the class to run down the hallway laughing and screaming and others simply wandering the classroom unresponsive to my efforts to give directions. I consistently implement classroom procedures and routines designed to make the students capable of working on their own and with others.
By the end of September they could do everything from sitting on the rug to disposing their lunch tray. They also knew what would happen if they did or did not follow our classroom rules, why it was important to follow the rules, and how to “use their words” to solve conflicts. Their awareness of what to expect, desire to receive positive praise, and investment in our “we are all friends” classroom culture curbed negative behavior. Moreover, our emphasis on the rationale behind wise choices such as peaceful conflict resolution made our teaching more lasting.
Parents can certainly also teach their children about solving problems and behaving appropriately. Yet pre-k offers the opportunity for young children to practice these strategies with a large and diverse group of their peers on a daily basis. Kevin, aka “the anti-sharer,” who frequently threw temper tantrums when he did not get a turn at something, frequently exhibited similar behavior at home. Pre-k gave Kevin the chance to practice working out problems with other children, a skill that will help him in school and at home. Moreover, we used our knowledge of his learning style based on our extensive anecdotes to develop an outlet for his negative energy and an opportunity for him to take ownership of the solution within the context of our daily routines.
High-quality pre-k offers high-quality teachers focused on analyzing student behavioral problems and implementing enduring solutions. Without such attention, I could see the problems getting worse and producing the kind of results captured by this latest research. For me, this study and my experiences are a call for educators, parents, and policymakers to support efforts to make all early care and education programs high quality.
Let’s face it: accidents happen; and in my pre-k classroom which is just a tad too small for fourteen children, two adults, and ten interest centers, accidental bumps and hits are practically part of our daily routines. Most of the children have learned to cope. But for a few, these encounters can still distract them and quickly escalate into an over dramatized fit. Aside from constantly reminding them that “accidents happen” and facilitating problem solving discussions and role plays around the issue, I am really not sure what else to do.
I would like to open the discussion to all of you: educators, parents, administrators, or anyone who has ever averted subway rage resulting from an innocent nudge. What are your ideas for teaching children about this inescapable part of life?
Ahh, the weekend…after exploring fantastical literary worlds for five days with old ladies swallowing flies, purple crayon drawn hot air balloons, and wild things at every corner, I get to delve into my weekly collection of non-fiction, “adult” content at a local café.
As I briefly step away from my pre-k teacher mentality to reflect on the latest 2008 presidential contender or the Ethiopian presence in Somalia, I consider one unifying theme in each of the articles: problems. Regardless of your political affiliation, job sector, or daily blogger of choice, it is clear that current and future generations face a wide range of political, economic, social, and technological problems. So what are we doing in Pre-k 114 to provide our society with proactive problem solvers?
One, we are creating a problem-solving culture in the classroom. Whether the problem is spilled milk, a friend crying, or someone saying they “can’t” do something, we respond with efforts to fix the problem. Initially, the children said, “ooooooh” and pointed instead. We then showed puppets in similar situations, brainstormed with the children about how to fix problems, and adopted the phrase, “We don’t say ‘oooh,’ we fix the problem.”
We also don’t give up. We learned from the Little Engine to keep chugging while saying, “I think I can” and asking for help from our peers. We receive positive recognition for going out of our way to help others fix problems. Students who got to purple last week included David and Tanasia for helping each other fold up their blankets after naptime, Awana for assisting Tyrone with his spilled juice, and Kevin for comforting Karen when she was upset.
A second step is to foster critical thinking skills. Like my favorite adult publications, children’s literature is filled with characters that have problems. We use these scenarios as a starting point for thinking about ways to solve problems. Here is an excerpt from a problem solving discussion we had last Friday over breakfast, as we looked at a picture of Jack (of “Jack Be Nimble” fame) jumping over the candlestick.
Ms. Pappas: What’s the problem? Sierra: His pants could catch on fire. Ms. Pappas: So what should he do? Sierra: Call 911 to put the fire out. Ms. Pappas: Great idea. What if he doesn’t have a phone? Tyrique: I could put his foot in the sink. Ms. Pappas: Excellent idea. What if the sink in his house doesn’t work? Tyrone: I could take him to your house and put his foot in the toilet. Ms. Pappas: How will you get to my house? Tyrone: I will take a cab. Ms. Pappas: What if I’m not home? Ravon: He could take Jack to the supermarket for some water. Awana: No, he not going to be on fire. He jumped over the candle. He was quick.
A few times per week I hear my students make comments or ask questions related to gender. They are aware that some of us are girls, some of us are boys, and, depending on lessons taught at home and through the media, they bring certain preconceived notions about gender differences to the classroom.
While he could not clearly articulate the rationale behind his feelings, the boy who angrily approached me after being called a girl clearly felt insulted. And the boy who declared that girls could not be line managers used a matter of fact tone that alarmed me.
As I reflected on these beginning sessions of Gender 101, I was, coincidentally, watching the unprecedented introduction of President Bush to “Madame” Speaker Pelosi at this week’s State of the Union address. I kept wondering, did a four year old Nancy ever have to struggle to gain a voice in heated debates over who would control the sandbox on the playground? What role, if any, did her teachers play in convincing her that she has just as much a right as young George, Dennis, or Harry to participate actively in decision making processes?
I consider it my responsibility to treat every child with dignity and respect and to teach my students to treat each other the same way. That teaching requires engaging students in a dialogue that fosters a deep and rational understanding of why discrimination of any kind does not make sense and is harmful. I consequently seek to challenge my students with responses that make them think about their developing views on gender.
In the case of the “he called me a girl” comment, I used a neutral tone and said something like, “Okay, are you a girl? No? So just let him know that and move on.” In terms of the Batman remark, I said, “Well, I’m a girl and I love Batman. I love how he uses a rope to jump off of tall buildings and save people. Is that okay? What would you do if you were a superhero?” The mayor comment came up during last year’s mayoral elections when the students were able to “write-in” someone they thought would do a great job leading the city. None of the official candidates were women, and many of the students nominated their dads or uncles. We responded to the “mommy nomination” with a conversation about what it takes to be a good mayor and why mommies, daddies, uncles, aunts, grandmothers, or grandfathers could get the job done.
What happens when a teacher’s views on gender clash with those of families? I have seen plenty of family members scold their children for choosing items from our “Treasure Chest” that they claim aren’t “suitable” for either boys or girls. I have not confronted the families about my own views nor have any family members asked that I limit the choices available to their children. I am curious to know more about your thoughts on the role of pre-k teachers in addressing gender and other issues relating to diversity. Should there, for instance, be explicit conversations with family members even if family members have not openly confronted you?
"Happy New Year!" I exclaimed to each of my students as they walked in today. In the past, this week back after the holiday break often proved somewhat hectic, with many of the children getting back into the swing of our daily routines. This year's return is shaping up differently. Here are a couple of highlights from the first day back:
While I planned to review our "talk it out" approach to conflict resolution later in the week, the students independently devised their own scenarios today. As part of our introduction to a three-week exploration of winter, I showed them two bears: one fully dressed for winter and the other wearing only a tee-shirt. After we passed them around, I asked them what they noticed about the two bears. Samar responded, "That bear with the jacket hit the other bear with a block." We then began discussing various ways we could respond to such a situation. The students came up with everything from apologizing and telling an adult to getting another block the two bears could share. We ultimately did talk about and explore winter throughout the day, but the teachable moment involving the bears was particularly valuable because it derived from student interest and demonstrated their deepening understanding of how to solve conflicts.
After reading the poem "Chicken Soup with Rice" for January, we laced up our make-believe skates and tried pretend skating while sipping our own soup in the auditorium. We discussed potential dangers such as: "wind that could blow leaves in your soup" (Kevin); "rain that could make the soup taste nasty" (Derrell); and, "snow that could make the soup cold" (Sierra). As we skated around the auditorium, we managed to escape a wolf "hiding behind a tree" (Jeffrey), but suddenly a dragon appeared. We just started exploring snow and ice today, so, like any good pre-k teacher with Greek roots, I had to use a bit of the Socratic method. After breaking it down with detailed questions, we figured out that the fire from the dragon would melt the ice, causing us to have to swim back to our classroom instead of ice skate. As Ravon said, "Whew, that was a close one."
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Karen has come a long way since September. Just this week, she chose to go to Dramatic Play and was soon taking her friends' orders at our pretend restaurant. She and her friends joked about changing their names in the Sand Area last month. She still sometimes prefers "alone time," like when she became adamant about separating the seal and the alligator in the Water Area so the seal would be safe, as shown in the picture. Yet she frequently experiences the very social interactions that will help her build and nurture relationships for years to come.
Four months ago David’s mother 
