acornwaldorfschool

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Lovely to think about summer camp on a snowy day... Register here!

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How To Get Your Kids To Do Chores (Without Resenting It)

by MICHAELEEN DOUCLEFF

https://www.npr.org/sections/goatsandsoda/2018/06/09/616928895/how-to-get-your-kids-to-do-chores-without-resenting-it

Back in the early 1990s, psychologist Suzanne Gaskins was living in a small Maya village near Valladolid, Yucatán, when she struck up a conversation with two sisters, ages 7 and 9.

The girls started telling her — with great pride — about all the chores they did after school. “I wash my own clothes,” the 7-year-old said. The older sister then one-upped her and declared, “I wash my clothes and my baby brother’s clothes.”

Gaskins was so impressed by the girls’ enthusiasm for helping around the house that she started to study how kids in the village spend their time. She quickly realized that the young kids not only made big contributions to household chores, but also that they often did so without being told. In fact, many times, helping out was their idea.

In the past 30 years, Gaskins and a handful of other psychologists have been documenting a remarkable phenomenon in indigenous families in Mexico and Guatemala: Young children in these homes are extremely helpful around the house.

They help do the laundry, help cook meals, help wash dishes. And they often do chores without being told. No gold stars or tie-ins to allowances needed.

In one study, psychologist Barbara Rogoff and her colleague Lucia Alcala, at Cal State, Fullerton, interviewed moms in Guadalajara, Mexico, who had indigenous ancestry. The researchers asked the moms what their children, who were all between the ages of 6 and 8, do to help around the house and how often they do these tasks voluntarily.

The study — published in 2014 — contains some of the most remarkable quotes I have ever seen in a research article.

For example, one mother said her 8-year-old daughter comes home from school and declares: “Mom, I’m going to help you do everything.” Then she “picks up the entire house, voluntarily,” the study reported.

“Another time, the mom comes home from work, and she’s really tired,” says Rogoff of the University of California, Santa Cruz. “She just plops herself down on the couch. And the daughter, says, ‘Mom you’re really tired, but we need to clean up the house. How about I turn on the radio and I take care of the kitchen and you take care of the living room and we’ll have it all cleaned up?’ ”

Volunteering to help is such an important trait in kids that Mexican families even have a term for it: acomedido.

“It’s a really complex term,” says Andrew Coppens, an education researcher at the University of New Hampshire, who collaborates with Rogoff. “It’s not just doing what you’re told, and it’s not just helping out. It’s knowing the kind of help that is situationally appropriate because you’re paying attention.”

And the phenomenon isn’t limited to children in Mexico. When families with indigenous roots move to the U.S., the parents keep the same approach to chores.

In many Maya communities, children see themselves as partners with their parents when it comes to working around the house, says psychologist Suzanne Gaskins. Susy, 12, says she voluntarily washes the dishes sometimes because she wants to help her mom.

A few years ago, Coppens and his colleagues interviewed Mexican-American moms in Watsonville, Calif., about how often their children do chores. They then compared these moms’ responses with those from middle-class families in Silicon Valley with European ancestry.

Although there was a lot a variation within each culture, Coppens says, a clear pattern emerged: “The Mexican-American kids, aged 6 to 7, were doing about twice as much around the house as the middle-class European-American kids, on average,” he says. “And they were doing so, much, much more voluntarily.”

So what on earth is these parents’ secret?

This may come as a surprise, but over and over again, researchers said one thing is key: embracing the power of toddlers.

Yes, I’m talking about 1- to 3-year-olds who, in our culture, are more often associated with the term “terrible” than “helpful.”

If you look around the world — whether the parents are hunting and gathering in Ecuador, raising cattle in the Himalayas or developing software in Silicon Valley — their toddlers have a few things in common.

The first is tantrums. Yes, toddler tantrums are pretty much unavoidable, no matter where you live, the ethnographic record shows.

But the second commonality is more positive: “Toddlers are very eager to be helpful,” says David Lancy, an anthropologist at Utah State University, who documented this universality in his new book, Anthropology Perspectives on Children as Helpers, Workers, Artisans, and Laborers.

Toddlers are born assistants. Need help sweeping up the kitchen? Rinsing a dish? Or cracking an egg? No worries. Toddlers Inc. will be there on the double.

In one study, 20-month-olds actually stopped playing with a new toy and walked across the room to help an adult pick up something from the floor.

Even small tasks, like raking leaves, can give kids a sense of pride and accomplishment, psychologists say. The key is to be sure the tasks make a real contribution to the household and aren’t just “mock work.”

And they didn’t need a reward for their assistance. In fact, the toddlers were less likely to help a second time if they were given a toy afterward, the study found.

“Children appear to have an intrinsic motivation to help,” psychologists Felix Warneken and Michael Tomasello concluded. “And extrinsic rewards seem to undermine it.”

No one understands exactly why toddlers have this innate desire to be helpful (or why rewards diminish it). But it could stem from their strong drive to be around their family, says Rebeca Mejia-Arauz, a psychologist at ITESO University in Guadalajara.

“I think this point is really key,” she says. “Doing things with other people makes them happy and is important for their emotional development. They see what their mom or siblings are doing, and they want to do it.”

Messy toddler today, helpful kid later?

Sure, toddlers may want to help, but let’s face reality here. At first, they really can’t do much. They can be clumsy, destructive and even enraging. Their involvement in chores often slows things down or makes a mess.

For this reason, many parents in Western culture rebuff a toddler’s offer to help, Mejia-Arauz says.

“We have mothers tell us things like, 'I need to do a chore very quickly, and if my toddler tries to help, he makes a mess. So I’d rather do it myself than having them helping,’ ” she says.

In many instances, Western moms tell the toddlers to go and play while they do the chores, she says.

But moms with indigenous heritage often do the exact opposite.

First, they give toddlers the opportunity to watch the chores as often as possible. “They invite them over by saying something like, 'Come, my child, and help me while I wash the dishes,’ ” Mejia-Arauz says.

Then if the child wants to participate, “they are welcome,” she says, even if it means going more slowly or if the mom has to redo the task.

“For example, one mom told us: 'When my toddler was doing the dishes, at the beginning, the water was all over the place, but I would allow my son to the dishes because that’s how he learned,’ ” she says.

The moms see it as an investment, Mejia-Arauz says: Encourage the messy, incompetent toddler who really wants to do the dishes now, and over time, he’ll turn into the competent 7-year-old who still wants to help.

Research supports this hypothesis, says the University of New Hampshire’s Andrew Coppens. “Early opportunities to collaborate with parents likely sets off a developmental trajectory that leads to children voluntarily helping and pitching in at home,” he says.

Or another way to look at it is: If you tell a child enough times, “No, you’re not involved in this chore,” eventually they will believe you.

If you give young children a chance to help around the house, psychologists say, you might be surprised by what they can learn. At home in a small village near Valladolid, Mexico, Alondra, 3, peels a mango. Her sister Susy is by her side.

What about middle-class, American kids?

Cultures are complex packages. Parenting models in one culture likely won’t work well in another. It’s a bit like fusion cuisine. You can’t simply take a few ingredients from a Oaxacan beef stew, add them to a New England chowder and expect it to taste good.

That said, American parents can extract useful ideas from Mexican parenting style when it comes to raising helpful kids, says Utah State University’s David Lancy.

“Absolutely,” he says. “In fact, I think we are doing a disservice to toddlers and older children when we deny them the opportunity to pitch in and be helpful.

"But replicating the approach isn’t easy in our society. It’s not a slam-dunk,” he adds. “We have to slow down what we’re doing. We have to make allowances.”

And we have to start early. As soon as you can:

1. Expose kids to chores as much as possible

Let them watch you cook, do the laundry or walk the dog. Let them help change a light bulb, plant herbs in the garden or help make a bed.

Basically, anything you want them to help with later on in life, be sure they’re around while the activity is occurring.

“Especially during the early years, give children the opportunity to wander over and watch what’s going on with the adults,” Coppens says. You’ll be surprised by how much toddlers and young children learn by simply observing what you do — no lecturing or explaining necessary.

This exposure also helps young children to see that chores are a social activity, Coppens says. They’re opportunities to work together and be with family members — which young kids crave. Then kids associate chores with a fun, positive activity.

“This psychological integration into the family seems to be really powerful developmentally for kids learning to work together,” Coppens says.

2. Think small tasks, big contributions

Offer opportunities for the child to help with the chore you’re doing. Give them a task that is appropriate with their skill level. Maybe it’s holding a measuring a cup while baking, moving a chair while sweeping or drying off a dish or two.

The task can be tiny, but the key part, Coppens says, is that it has to make a real contribution to the chore. It can’t be a “fake” project or an action that has nothing to do with the real chore. Then everyone isn’t working together for a common goal.

“In one of our studies, the middle-class, European families reported giving toddlers what we called 'mock work,’ ” Coppens says. For example, a mom would sweep the kitchen and afterward, she would give the broom to her young child to “resweep” the kitchen.

“The parents knew that the child wasn’t contributing to chore, and pretty quickly, the kid will pick up on the same idea,” Coppens says. And the kid loses out on the pride and sense of accomplishment that comes from making a real contribution.

3. Always aim to work together

A big motivating force for young children is being around their family, working on a common goal.

This motivation is lost if we divide up chores so everyone is working solo (or give kids mock work).

So for example, if you’re doing laundry, be sure everyone is folding everyone’s clothes. If you have the children just fold their own clothes while you fold your own, the tasks becomes more about working independently.

4. Don’t force it

“Sometimes people think that to get children to do chores, like Maya kids do, the parents must be doing a really good job of controlling the kids,” says Barbara Rogoff of UC Santa Cruz. But actually, the opposite is true.

“The aim is not to control the kids, but rather to develop the child’s own initiative,” she adds.

To do that, indigenous parents don’t force kids to help. They encourage the child and offer opportunities to participate when the child is interested.

Forcing the child actually has the opposite effect, Rogoff says. It can generate resistance.

“Just like adults, kids don’t like being bossed around,” she says. “Asking a little kid, 'Could you help me with this?’ often gets them on board more often than simply, saying 'You must do this.’ ”

When in doubt, talk collaboratively: “Saying to a child: 'let’s do this together’ sounds so much more interesting and rewarding than saying, 'I want you to do this,’ ” she adds.

5. Change your mindset about young children:

In the U.S., we often think toddlers and young children simply want to play, Coppens says. But the indigenous moms see a toddler coming over to them as an indication that they want to help.

The shift in mindset changes how the parent responds to the toddler’s request to participate in chore, Coppens says.

“All parents are interested in supporting their kids,” he says. “So if you assume that your child wants to play, then you are likely to find a better way for them to play that’s somewhere out of your way while you finish the chore.”

The result is a child separated from the adult activity and not around to learn about the chore — or about how to work together collaboratively.

“But if you make the assumption the toddler wants to help you, but he just doesn’t have a good understanding of how to do that — then you’ll try to find a way for him to help,” Coppens adds. “You will help him help.”

Over time, the “help” will grow in complexity. And the 2-year-old who stirs the pancake mix today could turn into the 6-year-old who makes the whole family breakfast — and feels darn good about it.

[acornwaldorfschool]

Spend lovely morning with the Roots & Shoots Parent Child Program at Acorn Waldorf School

Supporting parents by offering a beautiful and welcoming environment in which to meet with other parents and a facilitating teacher. Each week we will gather for quiet observation and lively discussion around the living questions of those in the group. There will be time for singing and finger games, indoor and outdoor play for the older little ones, as well as seasonal handwork projects for parents. Expectant parents are also welcome! Let us know if you are interested in joining Motria Shuhan for a morning designed for children aged birth to 24 months and their parent or caregiver. For more information contact us at motria@acornws.org

[acornwaldorfschool]

How To Get Your Kids To Do Chores (Without Resenting It)

by MICHAELEEN DOUCLEFF

https://www.npr.org/sections/goatsandsoda/2018/06/09/616928895/how-to-get-your-kids-to-do-chores-without-resenting-it

Back in the early 1990s, psychologist Suzanne Gaskins was living in a small Maya village near Valladolid, Yucatán, when she struck up a conversation with two sisters, ages 7 and 9.

The girls started telling her — with great pride — about all the chores they did after school. "I wash my own clothes," the 7-year-old said. The older sister then one-upped her and declared, "I wash my clothes and my baby brother's clothes."

Gaskins was so impressed by the girls' enthusiasm for helping around the house that she started to study how kids in the village spend their time. She quickly realized that the young kids not only made big contributions to household chores, but also that they often did so without being told. In fact, many times, helping out was their idea.

In the past 30 years, Gaskins and a handful of other psychologists have been documenting a remarkable phenomenon in indigenous families in Mexico and Guatemala: Young children in these homes are extremely helpful around the house.

They help do the laundry, help cook meals, help wash dishes. And they often do chores without being told. No gold stars or tie-ins to allowances needed.

In one study, psychologist Barbara Rogoff and her colleague Lucia Alcala, at Cal State, Fullerton, interviewed moms in Guadalajara, Mexico, who had indigenous ancestry. The researchers asked the moms what their children, who were all between the ages of 6 and 8, do to help around the house and how often they do these tasks voluntarily.

The study — published in 2014 — contains some of the most remarkable quotes I have ever seen in a research article.

For example, one mother said her 8-year-old daughter comes home from school and declares: "Mom, I'm going to help you do everything." Then she "picks up the entire house, voluntarily," the study reported.

"Another time, the mom comes home from work, and she's really tired," says Rogoff of the University of California, Santa Cruz. "She just plops herself down on the couch. And the daughter, says, 'Mom you're really tired, but we need to clean up the house. How about I turn on the radio and I take care of the kitchen and you take care of the living room and we'll have it all cleaned up?' "

Volunteering to help is such an important trait in kids that Mexican families even have a term for it: acomedido.

"It's a really complex term," says Andrew Coppens, an education researcher at the University of New Hampshire, who collaborates with Rogoff. "It's not just doing what you're told, and it's not just helping out. It's knowing the kind of help that is situationally appropriate because you're paying attention."

And the phenomenon isn't limited to children in Mexico. When families with indigenous roots move to the U.S., the parents keep the same approach to chores.

In many Maya communities, children see themselves as partners with their parents when it comes to working around the house, says psychologist Suzanne Gaskins. Susy, 12, says she voluntarily washes the dishes sometimes because she wants to help her mom.

A few years ago, Coppens and his colleagues interviewed Mexican-American moms in Watsonville, Calif., about how often their children do chores. They then compared these moms' responses with those from middle-class families in Silicon Valley with European ancestry.

Although there was a lot a variation within each culture, Coppens says, a clear pattern emerged: "The Mexican-American kids, aged 6 to 7, were doing about twice as much around the house as the middle-class European-American kids, on average," he says. "And they were doing so, much, much more voluntarily."

So what on earth is these parents' secret?

This may come as a surprise, but over and over again, researchers said one thing is key: embracing the power of toddlers.

Yes, I'm talking about 1- to 3-year-olds who, in our culture, are more often associated with the term "terrible" than "helpful."

If you look around the world — whether the parents are hunting and gathering in Ecuador, raising cattle in the Himalayas or developing software in Silicon Valley — their toddlers have a few things in common.

The first is tantrums. Yes, toddler tantrums are pretty much unavoidable, no matter where you live, the ethnographic record shows.

But the second commonality is more positive: "Toddlers are very eager to be helpful," says David Lancy, an anthropologist at Utah State University, who documented this universality in his new book, Anthropology Perspectives on Children as Helpers, Workers, Artisans, and Laborers.

Toddlers are born assistants. Need help sweeping up the kitchen? Rinsing a dish? Or cracking an egg? No worries. Toddlers Inc. will be there on the double.

In one study, 20-month-olds actually stopped playing with a new toy and walked across the room to help an adult pick up something from the floor.

Even small tasks, like raking leaves, can give kids a sense of pride and accomplishment, psychologists say. The key is to be sure the tasks make a real contribution to the household and aren't just "mock work."

And they didn't need a reward for their assistance. In fact, the toddlers were less likely to help a second time if they were given a toy afterward, the study found.

"Children appear to have an intrinsic motivation to help," psychologists Felix Warneken and Michael Tomasello concluded. "And extrinsic rewards seem to undermine it."

No one understands exactly why toddlers have this innate desire to be helpful (or why rewards diminish it). But it could stem from their strong drive to be around their family, says Rebeca Mejia-Arauz, a psychologist at ITESO University in Guadalajara.

"I think this point is really key," she says. "Doing things with other people makes them happy and is important for their emotional development. They see what their mom or siblings are doing, and they want to do it."

Messy toddler today, helpful kid later?

Sure, toddlers may want to help, but let's face reality here. At first, they really can't do much. They can be clumsy, destructive and even enraging. Their involvement in chores often slows things down or makes a mess.

For this reason, many parents in Western culture rebuff a toddler's offer to help, Mejia-Arauz says.

"We have mothers tell us things like, 'I need to do a chore very quickly, and if my toddler tries to help, he makes a mess. So I'd rather do it myself than having them helping,' " she says.

In many instances, Western moms tell the toddlers to go and play while they do the chores, she says.

But moms with indigenous heritage often do the exact opposite.

First, they give toddlers the opportunity to watch the chores as often as possible. "They invite them over by saying something like, 'Come, my child, and help me while I wash the dishes,' " Mejia-Arauz says.

Then if the child wants to participate, "they are welcome," she says, even if it means going more slowly or if the mom has to redo the task.

"For example, one mom told us: 'When my toddler was doing the dishes, at the beginning, the water was all over the place, but I would allow my son to the dishes because that's how he learned,' " she says.

The moms see it as an investment, Mejia-Arauz says: Encourage the messy, incompetent toddler who really wants to do the dishes now, and over time, he'll turn into the competent 7-year-old who still wants to help.

Research supports this hypothesis, says the University of New Hampshire's Andrew Coppens. "Early opportunities to collaborate with parents likely sets off a developmental trajectory that leads to children voluntarily helping and pitching in at home," he says.

Or another way to look at it is: If you tell a child enough times, "No, you're not involved in this chore," eventually they will believe you.

If you give young children a chance to help around the house, psychologists say, you might be surprised by what they can learn. At home in a small village near Valladolid, Mexico, Alondra, 3, peels a mango. Her sister Susy is by her side.

What about middle-class, American kids?

Cultures are complex packages. Parenting models in one culture likely won't work well in another. It's a bit like fusion cuisine. You can't simply take a few ingredients from a Oaxacan beef stew, add them to a New England chowder and expect it to taste good.

That said, American parents can extract useful ideas from Mexican parenting style when it comes to raising helpful kids, says Utah State University's David Lancy.

"Absolutely," he says. "In fact, I think we are doing a disservice to toddlers and older children when we deny them the opportunity to pitch in and be helpful.

"But replicating the approach isn't easy in our society. It's not a slam-dunk," he adds. "We have to slow down what we're doing. We have to make allowances."

And we have to start early. As soon as you can:

1. Expose kids to chores as much as possible

Let them watch you cook, do the laundry or walk the dog. Let them help change a light bulb, plant herbs in the garden or help make a bed.

Basically, anything you want them to help with later on in life, be sure they're around while the activity is occurring.

"Especially during the early years, give children the opportunity to wander over and watch what's going on with the adults," Coppens says. You'll be surprised by how much toddlers and young children learn by simply observing what you do — no lecturing or explaining necessary.

This exposure also helps young children to see that chores are a social activity, Coppens says. They're opportunities to work together and be with family members — which young kids crave. Then kids associate chores with a fun, positive activity.

"This psychological integration into the family seems to be really powerful developmentally for kids learning to work together," Coppens says.

2. Think small tasks, big contributions

Offer opportunities for the child to help with the chore you're doing. Give them a task that is appropriate with their skill level. Maybe it's holding a measuring a cup while baking, moving a chair while sweeping or drying off a dish or two.

The task can be tiny, but the key part, Coppens says, is that it has to make a real contribution to the chore. It can't be a "fake" project or an action that has nothing to do with the real chore. Then everyone isn't working together for a common goal.

"In one of our studies, the middle-class, European families reported giving toddlers what we called 'mock work,' " Coppens says. For example, a mom would sweep the kitchen and afterward, she would give the broom to her young child to "resweep" the kitchen.

"The parents knew that the child wasn't contributing to chore, and pretty quickly, the kid will pick up on the same idea," Coppens says. And the kid loses out on the pride and sense of accomplishment that comes from making a real contribution.

3. Always aim to work together

A big motivating force for young children is being around their family, working on a common goal.

This motivation is lost if we divide up chores so everyone is working solo (or give kids mock work).

So for example, if you're doing laundry, be sure everyone is folding everyone's clothes. If you have the children just fold their own clothes while you fold your own, the tasks becomes more about working independently.

4. Don't force it

"Sometimes people think that to get children to do chores, like Maya kids do, the parents must be doing a really good job of controlling the kids," says Barbara Rogoff of UC Santa Cruz. But actually, the opposite is true.

"The aim is not to control the kids, but rather to develop the child's own initiative," she adds.

To do that, indigenous parents don't force kids to help. They encourage the child and offer opportunities to participate when the child is interested.

Forcing the child actually has the opposite effect, Rogoff says. It can generate resistance.

"Just like adults, kids don't like being bossed around," she says. "Asking a little kid, 'Could you help me with this?' often gets them on board more often than simply, saying 'You must do this.' "

When in doubt, talk collaboratively: "Saying to a child: 'let's do this together' sounds so much more interesting and rewarding than saying, 'I want you to do this,' " she adds.

5. Change your mindset about young children:

In the U.S., we often think toddlers and young children simply want to play, Coppens says. But the indigenous moms see a toddler coming over to them as an indication that they want to help.

The shift in mindset changes how the parent responds to the toddler's request to participate in chore, Coppens says.

"All parents are interested in supporting their kids," he says. "So if you assume that your child wants to play, then you are likely to find a better way for them to play that's somewhere out of your way while you finish the chore."

The result is a child separated from the adult activity and not around to learn about the chore — or about how to work together collaboratively.

"But if you make the assumption the toddler wants to help you, but he just doesn't have a good understanding of how to do that — then you'll try to find a way for him to help," Coppens adds. "You will help him help."

Over time, the "help" will grow in complexity. And the 2-year-old who stirs the pancake mix today could turn into the 6-year-old who makes the whole family breakfast — and feels darn good about it.

[acornwaldorfschool]

Summer Camp... still time to sign up!

Enroll your child here!

Every week, along with Acorn School teachers, we play in meadows, climb trees, build and dig in the sandbox, make beautiful crafts, take nature walks, run thru the sprinkler and spend time with good friends and simply enjoy summertime laziness. 

NEW this year… Oak Camp for 7-12 year olds. Join John Evans, beloved and long-time Mountain Laurel Waldorf School teacher, for 2 weeks of fun, games and shady days in the forest. Contact camp@acornschoolhouse.com for more info. Hope to see you there!

Far up in the deep blue sky, Great white clouds are floating by; All the world is dressed in green; Many happy birds are seen, Roses bright and sunshine clear Show that lovely June is here! ~ F.G. Sanders

[acornwaldorfschool]

2018-19 AWS Enrollment is open!

For more information contact us at info@acornwaldorfschool.org

or click here: http://acornwaldorfschool.org/apply.html

At Acorn Waldorf School, we cultivate a space for intelligent play, allowing the children to engage with the physical world and each other. This is the true work of childhood, the essential basis for critical thinking, problem solving, and social interaction. In our warm, home-like atmosphere, the children are guarded from sensory overload (so ubiquitous in our culture) that can disrupt and even arrest this fundamental activity from finding expression. Journeying through the year we honor the seasons and celebrate festivals. The daily rhythm balances time spent indoors and out, restful times with active, and individual with group activities. This provides a nurturing and sustaining creative space, fostering self-confidence, physical health, and social intuition.

Experiential tasks, great and small, build the foundation for cognitive learning. With song and story, literacy and linguistic capacity are strengthened, along with a sense of the beauty and expressiveness of language. Counting games and rhyme provide a solid basis for memory and mathematical skills. Concentration, small-muscle development, and hand-eye coordination are all skills significantly promoted through tasks such as baking, braiding, finger crocheting, sewing, modeling with beeswax, and watercolor painting. All these elements work together, creating not only a superior foundation for elementary school learning, but also a basis in areas such as artistic ability, ethical values, social awareness, resilience, and health.

For more information contact us at info@acornwaldorfschool.org

or click here: http://acornwaldorfschool.org/apply.html

[acornwaldorfschool]

Summer Camp... still time to sign up!

Enroll your child here!

Every week, along with Acorn School teachers, we play in meadows, climb trees, build and dig in the sandbox, make beautiful crafts, take nature walks, run thru the sprinkler and spend time with good friends and simply enjoy summertime laziness. 

NEW this year… Oak Camp for 7-12 year olds. Join John Evans, beloved and long-time Mountain Laurel Waldorf School teacher, for 2 weeks of fun, games and shady days in the forest. Contact camp@acornschoolhouse.com for more info. Hope to see you there!

Far up in the deep blue sky, Great white clouds are floating by; All the world is dressed in green; Many happy birds are seen, Roses bright and sunshine clear Show that lovely June is here! ~ F.G. Sanders

[acornwaldorfschool]

“the young child does not possess the self-awareness to feel inadequate…” how fortunate

Inadequacy as a Doorway to Learning

By TERRY ELLIS and CHIP ROMER

Imagine a young child learning to stand for the first time. He has seen his older sister do it countless times, and he is determined that he, too, will stand and then walk towards the things that interest him. He crawls to the coffee table and pulls himself into an upright position, then his legs wobble and he promptly falls back onto his bottom. He pulls himself up again, and falls again. Again, and again. The wise parent watches without intervention, ensuring safety but not interrupting the learning that is going on. The child may become distracted at times, but he will keep trying until he is eventually standing solidly and walking confidently towards his interests.

At no time in this learning process did the child feel inadequate about his initial inability to stand and walk. He simply intended to stand and kept trying until he was successful. While he may have become frustrated, the young child does not possess the self-awareness to feel inadequate. He simply directs his will towards that which he wants to achieve, and, through trial and error, eventually gains mastery. As parents watching this effort, we might be struck by the vulnerability of our child or by his heroic perseverance, yet he isn’t feeling vulnerable or proud of his determination. He simply wants to stand and walk.

For the young child, inadequacy is a way of life. Fueled by curiosity and desire, he is continually learning how to manipulate his body and how to interact with his environment. Inevitably, in our culture there comes a time when a child becomes self-aware in relation to the rest of the culture and its norms.  The child becomes aware of his inadequacy.  Shame is born, and with it a sense of vulnerability. Metaphorically, this can be seen as “the fall” from the paradise of early childhood.

In Waldorf education, there is a conscious intention to delay this onset of self-judgment, a desire to “keep children young” so that unself-conscious desire for learning can endure. This is one reason that Waldorf educators hope to protect children from media exposure, where commercial content creates premature desires and judgments within children. This is a reason why Waldorf educators discourage the photographing and videotaping of children in their schoolwork and play—seeing themselves in pictures or on the screen awakens self-judgment; rather than remembering the joy of playing the lion in a second-grade play, the child watching a video of that play is likely to measure the quality of her performance against that of her classmates. This invites self-judgment; and feelings of inadequacy, vulnerability and shame enter into the young child’s life.

In our heroic culture, our common defense against the shame of inadequacy is to establish expertise. A ten year old who has yet to master riding a bike decides he “doesn’t like bikes” and becomes an expert skateboarder instead. He diverts attention away from the shame of his inadequacy and toward his expertise. As adults in this culture, we continually fix ourselves into areas of competence or expertise in order to protect against shame—and this stunts learning, which by its nature is dynamic, experimental and includes failure.

By focusing on what we know already—by becoming experts—we learn not to learn. As experts, we live only in the well known. We do not explore the frontiers of our comfort zone, where learning—exploring something new and unfamiliar—necessarily occurs; instead, we remain in our defended expertise. Rather than learning, we end up static, repeating that which we already know.

Turning away from shame has become an entrenched neural pathway—biologically for individuals in our culture, and metaphorically for our culture itself. We default to our comfortable expertise without even thinking about it. Our aversion to the shame of inadequacy is so habitual that it creates a kind of trance state. This trance obscures the need to grow and learn. The trance blocks natural—childlike—excitement for the discovery of the unknown. It is as if the young child has decided he is content to be an expert crawler and denies any interest in learning to walk. We habitually settle for the static safety of familiarity instead of expanding through our inadequacy towards the unknowns where expansive learning lives.

In groups (schools, businesses, charter school development teams), expertise resides at the fixed center, and learning—with its requisite inexpertise, uncertainty and inadequacy—lives on the periphery. A group tends to rely on the competence and confidence of its central experts. Group learning, however, is a dynamic process and is best served by the most sensitive member, often the most marginal or peripheral member, speaking about her sensitivity. This act names the shame that lies at the center of the trance of expertise; once that shame is named the trance is broken, inadequacy can be explored and learning can occur for the whole group. The sensitive “inexpert,” much like a child, lives on the periphery of the culture—the frontier of inadequacy; when her process of discovering the unknown—learning—is shared with the center, the whole group culture learns.

In our culture of expertise, the very process of learning has been scapegoated because it requires the dismantling of expertise, which brings with it exposure to the shame of inadequacy. Innovative charter schools are seen as experimental laboratories, whereas mainstream schools tend to be fixed in their established expertise. Charters live on the periphery of public education, pushing the boundaries through experimentation—and commonly experiencing inadequacy—in order to grow and support new learning. They are often scapegoated by the mainstream because they threaten the cultural trance of defended expertise. Charter schools inspired by Waldorf education are currently on the periphery of the traditional Waldorf culture, and their willingness to experiment on the edge can sometimes be seen as threatening.

Attuning our sensitivity to our own inadequacies awakens us to learning opportunities. When we feel ourselves pressing against our inadequacies, we are on the edge of something we do not know but are ready to learn. Rudolf Steiner, in founding the first Waldorf school in 1919, placed teachers outside of their field of expertise: the mathematician taught language arts; the artist taught science. Steiner believed that teachers striving beyond their expertise—or living dynamically with their inadequacies—would serve children as the best examples of learning how to learn. Whether we are educators, charter school developers, parents or mentors, we too can model how to learn by summoning the courage to live in the dynamic tension of our inadequacy. Expansion—individual and cultural—will be our reward.

Terri Ellis and Chip Romer were lead developers of Credo High School in Sonoma County, California, where Chips is currently Executive Director and Terri is a board member. For more information, visitwww.credohigh.org.

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The single most important thing you can do for your family may be the simplest of all: develop a strong family narrative.

March 15, 2013 The Stories That Bind Us By BRUCE FEILER

I hit the breaking point as a parent a few years ago. It was the week of my extended family’s annual gathering in August, and we were struggling with assorted crises. My parents were aging; my wife and I were straining under the chaos of young children; my sister was bracing to prepare her preteens for bullying, sex and cyberstalking.

Sure enough, one night all the tensions boiled over. At dinner, I noticed my nephew texting under the table. I knew I shouldn’t say anything, but I couldn’t help myself and asked him to stop.

Ka-boom! My sister snapped at me to not discipline her child. My dad pointed out that my girls were the ones balancing spoons on their noses. My mom said none of the grandchildren had manners. Within minutes, everyone had fled to separate corners.

Later, my dad called me to his bedside. There was a palpable sense of fear I couldn’t remember hearing before.

“Our family’s falling apart,” he said.

“No it’s not,” I said instinctively. “It’s stronger than ever.”

But lying in bed afterward, I began to wonder: Was he right? What is the secret sauce that holds a family together? What are the ingredients that make some families effective, resilient, happy?

It turns out to be an astonishingly good time to ask that question. The last few years have seen stunning breakthroughs in knowledge about how to make families, along with other groups, work more effectively.

Myth-shattering research has reshaped our understanding of dinnertime, discipline and difficult conversations. Trendsetting programs from Silicon Valley and the military have introduced techniques for making teams function better.

The only problem: most of that knowledge remains ghettoized in these subcultures, hidden from the parents who need it most. I spent the last few years trying to uncover that information, meeting families, scholars and experts ranging from peace negotiators to online game designers to Warren Buffett’s bankers.

After a while, a surprising theme emerged. The single most important thing you can do for your family may be the simplest of all: develop a strong family narrative.

I first heard this idea from Marshall Duke, a colorful psychologist at Emory University. In the mid-1990s, Dr. Duke was asked to help explore myth and ritual in American families.

“There was a lot of research at the time into the dissipation of the family,” he told me at his home in suburban Atlanta. “But we were more interested in what families could do to counteract those forces.”

Around that time, Dr. Duke’s wife, Sara, a psychologist who works with children with learning disabilities, noticed something about her students.

“The ones who know a lot about their families tend to do better when they face challenges,” she said.

Her husband was intrigued, and along with a colleague, Robyn Fivush, set out to test her hypothesis. They developed a measure called the “Do You Know?” scale that asked children to answer 20 questions.

Examples included: Do you know where your grandparents grew up? Do you know where your mom and dad went to high school? Do you know where your parents met? Do you know an illness or something really terrible that happened in your family? Do you know the story of your birth?

Dr. Duke and Dr. Fivush asked those questions of four dozen families in the summer of 2001, and taped several of their dinner table conversations. They then compared the children’s results to a battery of psychological tests the children had taken, and reached an overwhelming conclusion. The more children knew about their family’s history, the stronger their sense of control over their lives, the higher their self-esteem and the more successfully they believed their families functioned. The “Do You Know?” scale turned out to be the best single predictor of children’s emotional health and happiness.

“We were blown away,” Dr. Duke said.

And then something unexpected happened. Two months later was Sept. 11. As citizens, Dr. Duke and Dr. Fivush were horrified like everyone else, but as psychologists, they knew they had been given a rare opportunity: though the families they studied had not been directly affected by the events, all the children had experienced the same national trauma at the same time. The researchers went back and reassessed the children.

“Once again,” Dr. Duke said, “the ones who knew more about their families proved to be more resilient, meaning they could moderate the effects of stress.”

Why does knowing where your grandmother went to school help a child overcome something as minor as a skinned knee or as major as a terrorist attack?

“The answers have to do with a child’s sense of being part of a larger family,” Dr. Duke said.

Psychologists have found that every family has a unifying narrative, he explained, and those narratives take one of three shapes.

First, the ascending family narrative: “Son, when we came to this country, we had nothing. Our family worked. We opened a store. Your grandfather went to high school. Your father went to college. And now you. …”

Second is the descending narrative: “Sweetheart, we used to have it all. Then we lost everything.”

“The most healthful narrative,” Dr. Duke continued, “is the third one. It’s called the oscillating family narrative: ‘Dear, let me tell you, we’ve had ups and downs in our family. We built a family business. Your grandfather was a pillar of the community. Your mother was on the board of the hospital. But we also had setbacks. You had an uncle who was once arrested. We had a house burn down. Your father lost a job. But no matter what happened, we always stuck together as a family.’ ”

Dr. Duke said that children who have the most self-confidence have what he and Dr. Fivush call a strong “intergenerational self.” They know they belong to something bigger than themselves.

Leaders in other fields have found similar results. Many groups use what sociologists call sense-making, the building of a narrative that explains what the group is about.

Jim Collins, a management expert and author of “Good to Great,” told me that successful human enterprises of any kind, from companies to countries, go out of their way to capture their core identity. In Mr. Collins’s terms, they “preserve core, while stimulating progress.” The same applies to families, he said.

Mr. Collins recommended that families create a mission statement similar to the ones companies and other organizations use to identify their core values.

The military has also found that teaching recruits about the history of their service increases their camaraderie and ability to bond more closely with their unit.

Cmdr. David G. Smith is the chairman of the department of leadership, ethics and law at the Naval Academy and an expert in unit cohesion, the Pentagon’s term for group morale. Until recently, the military taught unit cohesion by “dehumanizing” individuals, Commander Smith said. Think of the bullying drill sergeants in “Full Metal Jacket” or “An Officer and a Gentleman.”

But these days the military spends more time building up identity through communal activities. At the Naval Academy, Commander Smith advises graduating seniors to take incoming freshmen (or plebes) on history-building exercises, like going to the cemetery to pay tribute to the first naval aviator or visiting the original B-1 aircraft on display on campus.

Dr. Duke recommended that parents pursue similar activities with their children. Any number of occasions work to convey this sense of history: holidays, vacations, big family get-togethers, even a ride to the mall. The hokier the family’s tradition, he said, the more likely it is to be passed down. He mentioned his family’s custom of hiding frozen turkeys and canned pumpkin in the bushes during Thanksgiving so grandchildren would have to “hunt for their supper,” like the Pilgrims.

“These traditions become part of your family,” Dr. Duke said.

Decades of research have shown that most happy families communicate effectively. But talking doesn’t mean simply “talking through problems,” as important as that is. Talking also means telling a positive story about yourselves. When faced with a challenge, happy families, like happy people, just add a new chapter to their life story that shows them overcoming the hardship. This skill is particularly important for children, whose identity tends to get locked in during adolescence.

The bottom line: if you want a happier family, create, refine and retell the story of your family’s positive moments and your ability to bounce back from the difficult ones. That act alone may increase the odds that your family will thrive for many generations to come.

“This Life” appears monthly in Sunday Styles. This article is adapted from Bruce Feiler’s recently published book, “The Secrets of Happy Families: How to Improve Your Morning, Rethink Family Dinner, Fight Smart, Go Out and Play, and Much More.”

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Celebrating the young child’s birthday…

by Lisa Marshall

I have such fond memories of my childhood birthday parties: my mom knew how to make our birthdays really special. Now I love to throw parties for my own three children. I’d love to share some of the tips I’ve learned for a successful party. The key is to really evaluate what is appropriate for your child’s age and temperament. One wants to make the party special but not to go overboard (or at least not too far).

When my children were very little, I realized that the party was more for us than for them. I would invite several other families, good friends of ours and we would have a champagne brunch (winter birthday) or a cookout (summer birthday). The adults would enjoy these gatherings and the children would interact as they would at any other gathering of friends. There was not a big to-do made over the child except for singing Happy Birthday and of course some sort of cake.

As my girls got older, say from 4-7, we had lovely small gatherings (a nice rule of thumb is that the number of children should be the child’s age plus one). I did most of the planning for these parties with very little input from the child although I did my best to do something I thought they would enjoy. Whenever possible, I had parties outdoors or at least partly outdoors which made them feel less stressful. The parties would last no more than 2 and a half hours and there was a rhythm to them something like this:

30 minutes free play

Snack served (little sandwiches, carrot sticks, juice box)

Circle time

Craft

Light the birthday ring, sing happy birthday and serve cake

Story

Goodbye

You’ll notice I didn’t include opening presents. For young children, both the birthday child and the other children, this can be very stressful. For many years I didn’t do present opening during the parties. Until age 7 I had at least some of the other mothers stay for the party.

I love to do circle time at parties. For toddlers, I would do a very simple circle, a few hand rhymes and Ring-Around-the-Rosy. For older children I would lead them in old fashioned play-party games and then dance the Hokey-Pokey. I always tried to include something for the season.

Where I presently live, I am lucky to have a mother who is a story-teller. When she is around, I ask her to prepare a story or two for the party. The children always love hearing her stories and this is a great way to calm everyone down towards the end of the party. She is so good at choosing the right story for the age of the children.

My children each have a sort of signature for their party. My oldest is born very close to Christmas so her special thing is gingerbread men. Depending on the age and number of children, they may roll out the dough, cut the cookies and I bake them and later they decorate. When they were smaller, I made the cookies in advance and they decorated them at the party. Usually this also served as their gift to take home. Sometimes they also get an ornament or a candy cane. One year we made little aprons with gingerbread people on them for each child but that year I had my mother and step-mother both helping me. My oldest is somewhat melancholic and finds large parties unpleasant. One year we invited some other girls and their mothers to a Christmas concert and then had dinner at our house afterwards. She loved this “party”.

My middle one is a May birthday so we usually have warm weather. We get out the old hand-crank ice cream churn and all the children help us make the ice cream for her party. In place of the traditional goody bags, one year I gave out sand buckets and shovels, bubbles and sidewalk chalk, another year it was beach towels, and one year I made bean bag frogs for all the children in her class (I definitely over did it that year. I was up at 3 a.m. sewing eyes on frogs!). One year we had a tea party with 2 other families’ girls and decorated straw hats with tulle, ribbons and silk flowers.

My son has had very low key parties, usually just the family – until recently he was shy around other people. Last year, when he turned 5, his birthday was on Thanksgiving. We had a very small party for him at the park with two other families and their children. It was a beautiful warm day (we live in Florida) and so we made felted balls in fall colors in a big vat of warm soapy water. I told his birthday story for the first time. It was lovely and very simple. The kids were of mixed ages so there was someone for everyone to play with and the park and playground provided plenty of entertainment so I didn’t have to do much. We also had our new puppy along for added fun (and chaos).

Whatever you do, consider carefully the age and temperament of your child. Also be true to yourself, if you don’t like it, don’t do it! Don’t hesitate to ask for help from friends and family. And remember that often, less really is more.

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The Kids Are Not Alright. Stop Measuring Them All the Time.

There is a video at the end that is worth looking at. It’s only 4 minutes…

As a psychologist, Madeline Levine has seen firsthand how children today are unraveling under pressure. In order to “succeed,” children take stimulants to study or cheat regularly to maintain their grades. They also resort to unhealthy ways of coping with anxiety such as substance abuse or self-mutilation. What the heck are we doing to our kids?

What’s the Big Idea?

We’re hyper-parenting them. At every level of their educational development we are subjecting them to strict measurements.

“We need to embrace a healthier and radically different way of thinking about success,” Levine argues in her book, Teach Your Children Well: Parenting for Authentic Success. We celebrate what is obvious and measurable over everything else. This is debilitating to children in precisely the same way that it is debilitating to parents. It is debilitating to everyone.

Levine argues for a different approach which she calls “courageous parenting.” If your child hasn’t learned to read in kindergarten, don’t freak out. Development is a process, and it is doesn’t happen at the same pace for everyone. Have the courage to let your child experiment and play. We overload our children with homework, even though we know that about one hour is really the right amount.

What’s the Significance?

Teach Your Children Well offers savvy advice for courageous parenting at different stages of a child’s education. Therefore, the lessons span from “remembering to play” to “building independence” to “becoming an adult thinker.”

You can apply Levine’s underlying concept to your own adult life. Courageous parenting is related to the idea of permanent beta, that is, being a lifelong learner. You need to embrace the process of learning and developing skills, not just the outcome. And it is absolutely alright (in fact you should be encouraged) to go at your own pace.

The Kids Are Not Alright. Stop Measuring Them All the Time.

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Some thoughts from Janet Lansbury…

Our Children Choose Us

Many of us have the sense that the children in our care chose us. We feel it especially when a child’s needs tap into our weaknesses, we are forced to adjust, and that adjustment makes us change for the better.  It is as if their souls zeroed in on us and decided, “That woman and that man, those future brothers and sisters need lessons I can provide. I’ll help them grow.  I’ll be their teacher.”

I was reminded of this theory in my parenting classes yesterday.  Two moms in separate classes were dealing with different parenting challenges. Both of them were stretching to interact with their children in a way that did not come easily.

One of these moms, Jenny, admits that it is hard for her to project the authority that her son Dylan needs.  She struggles to give him firm boundaries and speak to him with a definitive tone in her voice. It would be simpler, of course, if toddlers said to parents, “Please tell me “No!” or “Stop me!” or “Let me know you’re in charge!” Instead, they ask for limits by testing us or acting out, and then cry when limits are set.  They need to know that even though they cry, parents will hold the line and not cave. A parent who is not inclined to be assertive, or worries about being too strict, has obstacles to overcome.

Dylan is Jenny’s lovable obstacle incarnate. He is a jolly boy with a mischievous sense of humor, kind to other children when he is not distracted by his voracious need to test.  Jenny understands that being a loving mom means also being an authority figure, but because she is not the assertive type, putting that into action is intensely challenging. I know from experience that overcoming this hurdle will bring Jenny personal satisfaction and a boost in self-confidence. At the end of class Jenny and I reflected on the irony of this mother/ son match, and the positive changes Dylan is forcing her to make.

Rebecca is a smart, together mom who adores her 15 month old son Nicholas.  Nicholas is having a difficult time adjusting to my class.  Although he is amazingly focused and detail oriented when he plays — loves to spin large plastic beads and other objects as if they were tops — he cries every time he enters the classroom and then periodically throughout the 90 minutes.  Rebecca was nervous when she first came to the class and now believes her son reacted to her tension. Nicholas is a sensitive boy, and even though Rebecca is working on relaxing in class, she still has trepidation, and he picks up on it. If mom’s nervous, there is something to worry about.

I talked to Rebecca about letting go of all expectations.  Rather than prepping Nicholas for class, trying to make it work, I encouraged her to slow down, relax, and tell herself that if he cried in her arms throughout the entire class, it would be okay with her.  Rebecca admitted with a smile that she is a ‘doer’ and a ‘fixer’, and ‘letting go’ did not come easily. And, once again, the subject of ‘being given the child we need’ was discussed.

I am more a Jenny than a Rebecca. I had to dig deep to provide the authority my first daughter needed.  It was a struggle not to give in to her tears and her assertive, persuasive, commanding presence. And this is at 20 months old! At seventeen, she still has a way of making me feel I’ve let her down when she asks for the moon so convincingly and I only have stars.  But I have never for one moment been ungrateful for her decision to be my baby. She is my pride and joy.  She made me grow so much.

When my daughter was 3, my husband and I talked about having another child.  “You want another baby?  But that was so hard for you!” he said. After a pause I answered, “I know. But just because something is hard doesn’t mean you don’t want to do it again.”  I was open to another hard lesson, if I was lucky enough to be chosen.

[acornwaldorfschool]

Celebrating Birthdays in the Acorn Nursery

by Mia Reed, Acorn Nursery Teacher

As I sit here sewing gold trim onto a beautiful hand dyed blue silk, I ponder the gifts that the recipient of this particular birthday cape has brought with him. I think of the child in question, remembering moments we have shared at school, consoling tears, comforting after a fall in the grass, looking at birds in the sky, laughing together over silly words, watching proudly as they master a task. I think of the family. I think of the love they have for their child to bring him or her to us. I think of conversations we’ve had, chit chatting at festivals and potlucks.

Birthdays are favorite moments in the Acorn Nursery for me. There is so much love in the room as we gather in our circle to tell the birthday child’s story. Leading the child by the hand to their parents, singing our special song, “in Heaven shines a golden star, an Angel led her from afar, from Heaven high below to Earth… and led her to her House of Birth”. Some children get shy and hide behind my legs, others run ahead with joy. The teacher tells the story of the Little Angel and the Big Angel up in the Heavens, doing good work together, work that results in gifts that the Little Angel tucks into their back pack for when they will travel down to Earth. There’s a part in the story that I find so beautiful, that tells of the Little Angel handing their wings to the Big Angel for safe keeping upon their return…

As the birthday celebration goes on, I watch as the candles get lit, I watch the child open their gift, I watch as each child hands over their chosen treasure, and my heart is filled with love and joy.

And then to top it all off, there’s whipped cream : )

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Winter, winter, winter…. these acorns make it fun!

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A beautiful reflection of a child’s days at Acorn School by an alumni parent.

written by Linda Park for the Hearts Speak blog. Thank you!

Week in and week out, the rhythms at my daughter’s pre-school and kindergarten program stayed essentially the same. It was always porridge on Mondays, rice on Tuesdays, bread on Wednesdays, and soup on Thursdays (no school on Fridays). Painting was always on Rice Day. And, Outdoor Adventure was always after lunch. This was our rhythm for over three years. Some friends have understandably asked me, “But isn’t your child getting bored?”

It had crossed my mind. Other than the morning circle time, I knew that the majority of my daughter’s day was engaged in free play and not a lot more. Another popular kindergarten in the area offered Spanish and French classes, yoga for children, gymnastics, jazz and tap dance, painting, pottery, and singing, just to name a few of the electives. On a tour of the center, I marveled at the program’s extensive selection of lessons and asked if this meant that they had a large number of adjunct teachers. It was then explained to me that all those additional classes were provided through videos – and that the school did not give the children any media except for these “educational videos” which were described as a great way to expose the children to a wide range of learning.

At home, I tried to carefully observe my daughter for any signs in a loss of interest or the need for something more, like maybe violin or badminton lessons? I wasn’t sure what I was looking for outwardly, but I thought whatever signs that might manifest, it would probably stand out in some way. So, I observed as carefully as I could and observed for over three years.

What I saw was a child who was deeply engaged in her world. Every afternoon, the older children including my daughter would go on an outdoor adventure with the teacher. My daughter loved these outings and, arguably, she looked forward to it more than her all-time favorite snack of freshly-baked-bread-slathered-with-butter-AND-apple-butter-on-Bread-Day.

During Outdoor Adventure, the children discovered all kinds of treasures in the creek-bed. They learned some herbal first aid when my daughter got stung by a bee and the teacher plucked wild plantain to address the sting. They took pleasure in tasting tiny drops of nectar from honeysuckle flowers and finding onion grass to add to their soup. Inspiring acts of bravery and quick-thinking became an oft-repeated story, such as the time Jack, literally, went out on a limb to rescue a friend’s hat that blew into the rushing stream. There were times of tears when Lucy got scared while crossing the big log and all the children quietly gave her their encouragement, and so on. Daily surprises and adventures presented themselves in the context of the same walk, same creek, and the same teacher.

What I was observing was more than just the learning associated with knowing things. Every day, through the familiar, my daughter was deepening her feeling of her experiences. She was learning through her head and her heart, and growing a sense of love for the world around her. Cultivating this love was the teacher-gardener.

In my daughter’s third and final year at the school, the teacher asked me to consider a picture of “ripeness” in terms of our children. I kept thinking of the bananas and avocados in the store that are harvested too early and sometimes go from under-ripe to black. Or the tomatoes that we keep in brown paper bags to ripen on the counter. This was in contrast to the taste and goodness of juicy berries right off the bush, peas pulled from the vine or apples picked off the branch. It was a fair question: in this day and age, how do we cultivate ripeness in our children?

A slow and deep transformation was unfolding at this school, in the community, and within my daughter. This change was rooted in the very earth of the teacher’s perennial “garden.” The teacher’s gentle guidance and daily attention was the nourishment for the children’s growth and connection with their physical and social environment. The warmth of the teacher’s own beingresonated and extended to the health and bounty in each of the children. A bountifulness that, I firmly believe, is generative towards our future.

[acornwaldorfschool]

Simple pleasures….

Fall brings memories of grade school and the smell of new school supplies.

There are no traditional school supplies to get yet for Finn, but we did go shopping for some new rain gear, which he enjoyed trying out in the store a day or two before his first day of kindergarten.

“I have to see if I can run in it!” he said, taking off across the store.“And I might lay on the ground so I better test that out,” he said, lying down on the floor and rolling around. Thankfully there were few customers in the store at the time.

On the first day of school, he walked gingerly onto the grounds holding onto my hand, then tightening his grip when he sensed it was time for me to go. I looked around at the other parents, some making the separation easily, others not. Last year we had a few difficult dropoffs.

I wondered if this would be one. Then a couple of his friends came running up, asking Finn to come play. Suddenly I could barely get his attention enough to say goodbye. He gave me a kind of over-the-shoulder glance and off he went.

The next day, Erin took him to get his first professional haircut. I didn’t go, but she sent me pictures. He sat perfectly still and she said he was so serious. The change was dramatic. I’m still kind of mourning the wavy locks. He looks so much older and about an inch taller. “Who is this little man?” I thought.

While he was at school, l had begun working on a new painting. A few months ago, I sketched a peony on a canvas and it was just sitting on the easel. I guess the creative feeling in the fall air inspired me to add some color to it—and when Finn got home, he noticed it immediately.

“Hey Daddoo, you haven’t painted in a long time,” he said. “How come you haven’t painted?”

“I’ve been busy with other things,” I replied.

“I like it,” he said, pausing to looking at it. “Yeah. I like it… But where are the thorns?” he asked.

“It’s a peony,” I said

“Are you sure?! I think it’s a rose,” he said. Then he proceeded to show me where the thorns should go.

He’s only a few weeks away from turning five, so I’ve noticed an increase in his confidence and dexterity lately. I guess I can add “opinion” to that list as well.

Anyway, he’s right. Whatever. I have artistic license. It’s a rose peony.

I’m happy to see Finn take changes in stride. Tonight he asked if he could go to school “a hundred times a week.” That’s a desire that I’m pretty sure will change as he gets older. But the tinge of excitement and possibility mixed with the cooling temperatures will likely stick around for the duration, if he’s lucky. And I think he is. Even if he is a little opinionated.

David Dewitt is an artist, blogger, and painter who lives with his family in the Rondout Valley. For more, visit daviddewitt.com.

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What’s the Alternative? Acorn School for one…

If Academics-Focused Preschool Is “Crushing Our Kids,” What’s the Alternative?

The education world exploded this weekend with the Atlantic’s publication of Erika Christakis’ “The New Preschool Is Crushing Kids,” adapted from the early-childhood expert’s soon-to-be published book The Importance of Being Little: What Preschoolers Really Need From Grownups. Christakis’ article describes a recently (and radically) altered society where, instead of staying home with mom, “[n]early three-quarters of American 4-year-olds are now in some kind of nonfamily care.” And instead of discussing the sound of crunching leaves and exploring the texture of sand, these young kids are bombarded by what Christakis describes in the opening paragraph as:

a print-rich environment, every surface festooned with alphabet charts, bar graphs, word walls, instructional posters, classroom rules, calendars, schedules, and motivational platitudes—few of which a 4-year-old can “decode,” the contemporary word for what used to be known as reading.

Christakis then goes into distressing detail about the pitfalls of this “new scientific focus on the cognitive potential of the early years”: “[N]ow that kindergarten serves as a gatekeeper, not a welcome mat, to elementary school, concerns about school preparedness kick in earlier and earlier,” she writes. This obsession with “school readiness” leads to an intense pressure for kids to be reading by the end of kindergarten; those who can’t do so increasingly “flunk” kindergarten—an unheard-of notion in my youth.

But the crux of Christakis’ article compellingly streamlines an argument that many of us have seen more and more evidence of in recent years, which is that inculcating kids with hardcore academics at too young an age may ultimately do more harm than good. Like that Tennessee preschool study that got so much attention earlier this fall, which concluded that many preschool attendees had lost whatever gains they’d made in early childhood by first grade, more and more studies are suggesting that kids subject to the “academic takeover” of early learning tend to lose their enthusiasm for school earlier than their peers.

I took great interest in this article because, among other reasons, I am the parent of small children in Washington, D.C., which comes as close to offering universal pre-K—available in many neighborhoods not just at age 4 but 3—as any municipality in the country. And I mostly feel very, very lucky to be here at this time in my kids’ lives. Certainly from a pocketbook perspective, preschool access is life-alteringly great—asI’ve written elsewhere, the availability of high-quality preschool at age 3 played a not-insubstantial role in our financial calculus to go for child No. 2.

And the program my oldest child attended was wonderful in most respects, with lots of sensory time and outdoor play and socialization and art—and in an integrated setting hard to find later in life. But if, when my son was in PK3, I felt proud that his teacher pulled him and two other kids from nap to practice reading (what a young genius I’d incubated!), I disliked, in PK4, that my iPad-deprived child would ignore the boxes of blocks and Legos all over the classroom and beeline to one of its four computers to play “math literacy” games for the first hour of the day.

And I got downright spooked when I attended a “kindergarten preview” where the teachers told us that we could kiss the Reggio Emilia–inspired fun and games of preschool goodbye. Kindergarten was serious business: We could expect at least 30 minutes of homework every night, in math and English. Around that same time, on a snowy day while his sister was napping, I asked my son what he wanted to do and he shrugged: “Maybe you could print out some phonics worksheets for me?” When, a few months later, we lotteried into a school with a play-based kindergarten, we took the spot.

Now, at 6½, my son, at a bilingual school that seemed (but might not turn out to be) less assessment-driven than the achievement gap-obsessed school we left, is what his teachers call a “strong reader” in both English and Spanish. But does he like reading? The jury’s still out on that one. Maybe it’s just that he’s equal parts defiant and hyperactive, but I don’t remember my mother asking me to read at his age; I remember doing it because I identified so deeply with Ramona Quimby, Age 8.

“You’re supposed to read this book your teacher sent home,” I’ll say.

“But it’s booooring!” he’ll cry.

“Fine,” I’ll give in, “let’s do handwriting instead.”

Christakis offers a compelling prescription of the problem: We are drilling kids with too much academic information at too young an age. The solution, she says, is higher-quality programs where “adults are building relationships with the children and paying close attention to their thought processes and, by extension, their communication,” where the focus is “not just on vocabulary and reading, but on talking and listening.”

Rather than direct children in predetermined tasks, preschool teachers should use “sophisticated vocabulary” to enable open-ended, child-directed explorations. The relationship between teacher and child is far more important than whatever flavor-of-the-month curriculum the district is currently promoting. Christakis writes:

Conversation is gold. It’s the most efficient early-learning system we have. And it’s far more valuable than most of the reading-skills curricula we have been implementing: One meta-analysis of 13 early-childhood literacy programs “failed to find any evidence of effects on language or print-based outcomes.” Take a moment to digest that devastating conclusion.

But, in a world where so many mothers work outside the home, is academic preschool really worse than the alternative? Leaving kids home with grandma and a TV blaring all day, or sending them to day care centers where the teachers are almost always less credentialed and less educated than public-school teachers. Given that a shocking 2 out of 5 U.S. kids live in poverty, I still can’t help but feel that the wrong kind of preschool is superior to none at all.

As for my own kids, I’m pleased to learn that the private preschool that my 3-year-old currently attends three mornings a week meets Christakis’ description of an ideal early-learning environment. She writes:

They provide ample opportunities for young children to use and hear complex, interactive language; their curriculum supports a wide range of school-readiness goals that include social and emotional skills and active learning; they encourage meaningful family involvement; and they have knowledgeable and well-qualified teachers.

But the school also costs money, and it requires either a backup child-care system for the other hours of the day, or a parent who doesn’t work. It requires, too, extensive teacher vetting and training that isn’t feasible for many publicly funded programs. So how, in our heterogeneous, high-poverty country, can we get our kids to be more like the “joyful, illiterate kindergartners of Finland”? I’ll be reading Christakis’ book for more concrete answers.

Laura Moser writes about education for Slate‘s Schooled blog. Follow her on Twitter.