We live in a culture of constant stimulation and interruptions. With videos and cell phones and all things beeping and buzzing around us, it is easy to get caught up in that fast-paced and attention-grabbing environment. I like to be in our classroom because it is a space where I can be away from all of that. If we go out on a walk, I bring my phone in case of an emergency, but otherwise it is tucked away in my bag all day. Our classroom has windows, not computer screens, to create a visual escape. It is peaceful and inviting and conducive to what is so important for our children: play.
Our toddlers are still at a stage in their lives where things that may seem mundane to adults are really fascinating objects that require experimenting with in all different ways. Even as they grow older, there are going to be multitudes of activities that will lend themselves to focused play and experimentation. When I was an assistant teacher in a Montessori school, my job was to maintain an environment in which our 3 to 6 year-olds could have uninterrupted work time to focus on their chosen activities. I did not need to ask them what they were doing or try to draw their attention to something else that was happening in the classroom; I could simply observe what they were working on and give them space to succeed at it.
Our overall philosophy may differ here at PTCC, but I think that the core principles align with Montessori's. Here at PTCC, we encourage collaboration, but not if it is uninvited. There are times when we may narrate what a child is doing or an interaction they are having with another child, which can be very valuable. There are other times in which I think it is best to sit back, observe how an experience plays out, and see what we and the children can learn from it. Sometimes we may have an idea about how a material can be used, and when we sit back and watch how a child interacts with it, they may surprise us by using it in a way that we had never even thought of! How can we learn these things if we don't give children the space to try them? I think that sitting back is also a way of showing children respect for what they are doing. It is hard to focus on my work if someone is constantly coming over and interrupting me, so why would I do that to children?
I remember one day when I had put out markers, and some of our children were engaged with drawing on the paper (or themselves). When Nate came over, he picked up a marker with the cap on, and stood there, working to fit the marker into a small PVC pipe that had been brought over to that area. I could have said, "Hey Nate, let's take the cap off of the marker so that you can draw with everyone," but I moved back to let him follow through with what interested him. I was pretty excited to see how he was using these materials, and it was a great opportunity for him to work on problem solving, spatial awareness, and fine motor skills.
What else might Nate have learned from this experience?
(Amara and Christina)
It seems to boil down to our individual agendas. We have our agendas as adults to get everything done according to our schedules, but we need to always be conscious of the children's agendas and needs. A regular example of this for us teachers is during diapering times. It would be convenient for us to get diapers done as fast as possible so that we can move on to the next thing, such as going outside, but we try to be aware of when a child is in the middle of something and give them the time and space they need to complete their process. This is not always easy, and we are working on it all the time.
Can you think of a time this might apply to your family at home?
(Christina)
Since last year in Infant South, I've been interested in researching how an interruption, such as by a teacher, might affect a child's work. I am always trying to be conscious, not only about how much I say, but also what I say, and whether it might be helpful, or on the other hand, distracting, to a child as they play. This year, I am trying hard to remember, as we worked to be aware of with our babies last year, to invite rather than enforce that children participate in an activity such as coming to the table to eat. For example, we all wash our hands upon coming into the classroom, but if, before lunch, a child wishes to climb in and out of the book case or flip through a book before coming to the table, I try to remind myself that nothing bad is going to happen if they don't come over right away! In fact, by allowing a child the time and space to make a choice for themselves, they feel empowered and respected when we say something like, "We are starting to eat at the table...you can join us whenever you're ready." Usually, children come pretty soon after we say this anyway, but it is their decision, and practice in making decisions is important at a young age, so we can do it effectively during our entire lives.
The other day, I had set up the sensory table filled with water, along with two plastic bottles with holes that Amara and I poked into them. One of them could be capped and shut airtight, and the other had a two-part lid which could be screwed on, but with a flat top that went completely on or off. Having been inspired by the water play provocations set up for us at the Curiosity and Learning conference at Wheelock the previous weekend, I was excited to give the children a chance to possibly see the "magic" of what happens when a bottle with holes poked in it is airtight and you hold it sideways and shift it back and forth. (Try it at home!) Theo was happily filling up and pouring water out of the two-part lid bottle, and after watching him for a few moments, I wondered out loud what might happen if we closed the lid completely. I offered Theo the cap and gestured to see if he would let me put it on the bottle, but he quickly replied, "No, open." Theo had his own plan, and did not need me to offer any suggestions in order for him to learn something from his exploration. I don't think there was anything necessarily wrong about me trying to collaborate with him and extend the activity, but, based on his emphatic response, I wonder how my "interruption" affected his play. Did I distract him from his focused work? Or maybe, he was not affected negatively by it, and even could have gained a new idea, while maintaining his focus in order to complete his own plan. Still, this scenario left me wishing I had just waited, but we have to remember we are not perfect and can still foster children's learning, just by being aware of their innate ability to discover things on their own.
Has there been a time that you (or someone else) intervened in your child's play, and then you wished the interruption hadn't occurred?
We look forward to hearing your thoughts and observations about giving our children time and space for focused play.
With care,
ACE
Our overall philosophy may differ here at PTCC, but I think that the core principles align with Montessori's. Here at PTCC, we encourage collaboration, but not if it is uninvited. There are times when we may narrate what a child is doing or an interaction they are having with another child, which can be very valuable. There are other times in which I think it is best to sit back, observe how an experience plays out, and see what we and the children can learn from it. Sometimes we may have an idea about how a material can be used, and when we sit back and watch how a child interacts with it, they may surprise us by using it in a way that we had never even thought of! How can we learn these things if we don't give children the space to try them? I think that sitting back is also a way of showing children respect for what they are doing. It is hard to focus on my work if someone is constantly coming over and interrupting me, so why would I do that to children?
What else might Nate have learned from this experience?
(Amara and Christina)
It seems to boil down to our individual agendas. We have our agendas as adults to get everything done according to our schedules, but we need to always be conscious of the children's agendas and needs. A regular example of this for us teachers is during diapering times. It would be convenient for us to get diapers done as fast as possible so that we can move on to the next thing, such as going outside, but we try to be aware of when a child is in the middle of something and give them the time and space they need to complete their process. This is not always easy, and we are working on it all the time.
Can you think of a time this might apply to your family at home?
(Christina)
Since last year in Infant South, I've been interested in researching how an interruption, such as by a teacher, might affect a child's work. I am always trying to be conscious, not only about how much I say, but also what I say, and whether it might be helpful, or on the other hand, distracting, to a child as they play. This year, I am trying hard to remember, as we worked to be aware of with our babies last year, to invite rather than enforce that children participate in an activity such as coming to the table to eat. For example, we all wash our hands upon coming into the classroom, but if, before lunch, a child wishes to climb in and out of the book case or flip through a book before coming to the table, I try to remind myself that nothing bad is going to happen if they don't come over right away! In fact, by allowing a child the time and space to make a choice for themselves, they feel empowered and respected when we say something like, "We are starting to eat at the table...you can join us whenever you're ready." Usually, children come pretty soon after we say this anyway, but it is their decision, and practice in making decisions is important at a young age, so we can do it effectively during our entire lives.
The other day, I had set up the sensory table filled with water, along with two plastic bottles with holes that Amara and I poked into them. One of them could be capped and shut airtight, and the other had a two-part lid which could be screwed on, but with a flat top that went completely on or off. Having been inspired by the water play provocations set up for us at the Curiosity and Learning conference at Wheelock the previous weekend, I was excited to give the children a chance to possibly see the "magic" of what happens when a bottle with holes poked in it is airtight and you hold it sideways and shift it back and forth. (Try it at home!) Theo was happily filling up and pouring water out of the two-part lid bottle, and after watching him for a few moments, I wondered out loud what might happen if we closed the lid completely. I offered Theo the cap and gestured to see if he would let me put it on the bottle, but he quickly replied, "No, open." Theo had his own plan, and did not need me to offer any suggestions in order for him to learn something from his exploration. I don't think there was anything necessarily wrong about me trying to collaborate with him and extend the activity, but, based on his emphatic response, I wonder how my "interruption" affected his play. Did I distract him from his focused work? Or maybe, he was not affected negatively by it, and even could have gained a new idea, while maintaining his focus in order to complete his own plan. Still, this scenario left me wishing I had just waited, but we have to remember we are not perfect and can still foster children's learning, just by being aware of their innate ability to discover things on their own.
Has there been a time that you (or someone else) intervened in your child's play, and then you wished the interruption hadn't occurred?
We look forward to hearing your thoughts and observations about giving our children time and space for focused play.
With care,
ACE