There has grown a heaviness in our souls over the past several years. We are bombarded daily with images of division, hatred, distrust, and violence of one form or another. We long for belonging, love, and peace, and at times they seem just out of our reach. Like most folks I know, I have been longing for the circumstances causing all this…the people, the politicians, global warming, etc…to change. The last vestiges of my externally oriented optimism, I suppose: “People are basically good and nothing truly bad will happen.”
But I’ve begun to believe that it’s time to take a more personal stance and that we need an evolution of optimism. That is, the only remedy is within. Yes, in an external sense, we need to do what we can to address societal, political, and environmental ills. But that’s only part of it. To feel better I think I need to mine the curiosity, joy, and love that I know are part of me. I need to experience, notice, represent, and express what feeds my soul. I need to use my “love language” extravagantly. I used to rely on being surprised by wonder and joy. Now I think I need to seek them out intentionally.
What does this have to do with teaching and learning? Everything. I see so many teachers who, burdened with schooling systems that leave little opportunity for autonomy, ownership, and surprise, burn out and want to leave the profession. Their basic human needs for connection, belonging, love, wonder, and joy are not being met. Many know what would feed their souls and intellects and are aware that relationships with children and connection to their own curiosity are what makes teaching generative and rewarding. But they are constrained by administrators who are constrained by state boards and adoption of teacher-proof curricula. Teachers say, “The children are different” after COVID closures. Instead of experiencing the satisfaction that comes from addressing what those children actually need (connection, belonging, love, wonder, joy), those schooling systems ask teachers to double down and “close the learning gap.” Can’t happen if the children aren’t OK, and that’s demoralizing for the conscientious and compassionate teacher.
When schools had to adjust around closures and contagion due to COVID, my first (optimistic) thought was, “OK, things HAVE to change now. This crisis could be a catalyst for change for the better.” I was disappointed that, instead of seeing schools that opted to stay open go outdoors where children could learn in and about nature, I saw Kindergartens take all the opportunites for play, community, group learning, and collaboration away. Children sat all day at individual desks with carrels, pencil in hand. Schools that closed tried to do remote learning with young children. Nothing about that is likely to feed a child’s intellect or soul. The opportunity to respond with creativity and innovation was squandered.
That was 2 years ago, but the problems remain. What is the opportunity now?
If teachers are to help children grow what feeds them, they must be given space to renew their own optimism, wonder, curiosity, and joy. One way is to allow and support teachers to rediscover the pleasure in listening to children not FOR something known but in order to be surprised. Can we inspire teachers to observe from a stance of curiosity, perhaps asking themselves questions like “What is it that the children are trying to figure out?” To listen more than talk, and to listen not for some predetermined response but to listen for ideas that keep emerging, for ideas imbued with emotion, and for ideas that just don’t go away in the children’s play, representation, and conversation. To take those ideas and tiptoe with them back to the children (“Yesterday you said ________. Tell me more.”). To let children re-introduce us to the pleasure of intellectual engagement and collaborative inquiry, teachers alongside children. We can borrow from the children our birthright to wonder and joy, be renewed, and, perhaps, regenerate optimism.
Photo credit: Lella Gandini
Where and how can we find the strength and the courage for this radical change? Once again, we must start with the children. The young child is the first great researcher. Children are born searching for and, therefore, researching the meaning of life, the meaning of the self in relation to others and to the world. Children are born searching for the meaning of their existence . . . the meaning of the conventions, customs and habits we have, and of the rules and the answers we provide.
Carlina Rinaldi, Innovations in Early Education: The International Reggio Exchange, Vol 10 No. 2, Spring 2003.