“Your child’s education is not an individual pursuit.” Challenging Me before We in Early Childhood Classrooms

BY MARA KRECHEVSKY

The world of early childhood education is filled with unhelpful dichotomies. For example, 

• You are either talking about the group or the individual.

• Learning is either teacher- or child-directed.

• You are either supporting project-based learning or basic skills.

• It’s either the learning process or the product that matters.

• Teaching and learning are either cognitive or emotional endeavors

These dichotomies are not necessary, though many people may assume they are. Many school mission statements separate academic excellence and the ability to contribute to a democratic society into two distinct sets of expectations. Yet learning is an ongoing activity that begins at birth and continues over a lifetime. Current rhetoric about the importance of collaborative learning notwithstanding, most schools in the U.S. (and other individualist cultures) emphasize individual progress and achievement. In early childhood, a common curricular sequence begins with “all about me,” and then branches out to consider the family, classroom, school, and larger communities. In many ways, this sequence makes sense. Yet what would it mean to see the relationship between individual and group as mutually constitutive, so that from the very beginning of formal education, individual learning occurs with the world or community in mind?

Could schools become places where children are both supported in developing knowledge, skills, and understanding, and feel like they are contributing to something larger than themselves? When children and adults learn from and with each other, they become capable of understanding and accomplishing more than they would as individuals. In this view, children both advance their own knowledge and understanding and contribute to a more shared and public body of knowledge. They also learn how to learn from and with others—how to listen, how to build on and modify ideas, and how to negotiate disparate viewpoints.

Ron Berger of EL Education

The Good Starts Project is interested in supporting teachers of young children in creating communities of learners in their classrooms that embrace we as well as me. According to educator Ron Berger, schools make a mistake in thinking that children are necessarily oriented toward “me” or “we.” How do young children see themselves in relation to others? How do preschool and other early childhood settings shape adults’ and children’s perceptions of the relationship between the individual and the group? What do the cultural and political contexts contribute to the mix? We would like to help schools, from the very beginning, support the creation of communities of learners who see themselves as both independent and interdependent learners and members of a community.

We suspect there are at least four dimensions of the problem space:

1. What view of the child informs and shapes child-rearing and schooling?

Adult beliefs about children’s capacities shape how they interact with them. At one extreme, children are considered empty vessels to be filled with knowledge. Others see children as powerful, competent protagonists with the capacity and motivation to learn and understand the world around them. Jin Li, our colleague at Brown University, suggests that many individualist cultures tend to view the self as a stable entity with fixed attributes, whereas more collectivist cultures tend to see the self as relational and connected to others—in a constant process of becoming. (There is a saying, “In the West, if children don’t do well, they give up; in the East, they double their effort.”) If we see children as capable, strong, resourceful, and able and eager to learn from and with others, our approach to teaching and learning will reflect those beliefs and shape children’s sense of self and other.

2. What do children, teachers, families, and other stakeholders think learning looks like?

Is learning considered a private and individual activity, with children seen as independent discoverers and constructors of their own meanings, or a social and communicative act? In individualist cultures, educators often take an inherently group setting—school—and try to individualize it. Each child works on an individual product. Yet the types of activities, available materials, and time frame are often the same for all children. There is no collective goal, yet all individuals in the group are working[2] on the same things. Our PZ colleague, David Perkins, says learning is a consequence of thinking. If we also believe that thinking and learning are fundamentally social endeavors, children need the opportunity to build understanding, solve problems, and make meaning together.

3. What do children, teachers, families, and other stakeholders believe is the purpose of schooling?

Some months ago an educator who was starting a public charter school in Hawai’i told me that in her school, you would never hear the term “child-centered.” People might say “child-led” or “child-directed,” but not child-centered. To her and her colleagues, the center of education was not the child, but the land, the earth, and all living things. “Child-centered” is a common value in progressive education, particularly in early childhood. Yet the term is steeped in the Western culture of individualism, consumption, and capitalism. “Child-centered” implies education that is focused on the individual. What might an alternative look like?

In a civics and arts collaboration with the Columbus Museum of Art, teachers asked their students, “Why do you go to school?” Not a single student talked about the role of school in society. One high school student responded, “If the pandemic has taught me anything, it’s that school is not about education, but about government-sponsored babysitting.” This points to a need to better understand children’s beliefs about school and why societies (as well as individuals) might need schools.

4. What is the role of the teacher?

Loris Malaguzzi, founder of the Reggio Emilia approach to education

Many people continue to see teachers as deliverers—and children as receivers—of knowledge (the teachers teach and the children learn). In many US classrooms, teachers tell children what to do. Courtney Cazden, among others, has observed that group discussions in classrooms often look like a wheel in which the comments of children on the outer rim are directed toward the teacher at the center of the wheel, who then responds back to the individual child. Opportunities for children to learn from and with each other are scarce. Conflict is typically something to be avoided or resolved quickly.[3] However a different conception of the teacher’s role is possible. In the words of Loris Malaguzzi, the founder of the Reggio Emilia approach to early childhood education, “The aim of teaching is not to produce learning, but to produce the conditions for learning” (and we would add “…for learning from and with others).”

 It is time to challenge the idea that in focusing on the group as a context for learning, the individual somehow gets lost; rather, the group helps individuals find their identity in a more nuanced and multifaceted way. There is no need to choose between the two, just an ongoing need to design and revisit the balance of individual and group learning. From the first days of school (and earlier!), it behooves us to remember that learning is an expressive and communicative act where knowledge and culture are both created and transmitted.

The Good Starts Project is generously funded by the Saul Zaentz Charitable Foundation.

I’d like to thank Carin Aquiline, Wendy Fischman, Shinri Furuzawa, Howard Gardner, and Yvonne Liu-Constant for their valuable comments on an earlier draft.

[1] “Your child’s education is not an individual pursuit.” This is a statement kindergarten teacher Melissa Tonachel used to share with parents at child-teacher-parent conferences.

[2] Note that getting work done is not necessarily the same thing as learning.

[3] One exception is the Opal School, a public charter school in Portland, OR, that was recently closed due to the pandemic. At Opal, conflict was embraced. Children engaged in playful inquiry with many low-stakes opportunities to explore ideas, make mistakes, and take risks (see, e.g., Do-Over, Making Friends with Conflict, and Snapping Ideas Together). 

What’s “Fair” in Children’s Play? The Development of I, we, and they in Different Cultures

By Yvonne Liu-Constant

Children all over the world play together, and more often than not, they fight over toys. What do adults do when conflicts arise, and how do they teach children to resolve them? How does the teaching and learning of conflict resolution shape young children’s understanding of themselves in relation to others in the group, and foster their sense of “I” “we”, and “they”?

In early childhood classrooms in the US, children are typically encouraged to “share” and “be fair.” To resolve conflicts, adults teach children to talk and negotiate about ways to divide toys, take turns, or trade one preferred toy for another. The underlying value is that “fair” means “equal rights” – each individual child gets a say in how to share the toys equally.

Children's understanding of fairness evolves over time and is influenced by both cognitive development and sociocultural contexts. As children’s cognitive abilities develop, so does their moral reasoning. Piaget’s stages of moral development and Kohlberg’s stages of moral reasoning are the most widely recognized efforts to document how children’s understanding of rules and fairness becomes more sophisticated with age. The ability to take the perspective of others, which typically develops during the preschool years, is crucial for understanding fairness. Children who can better consider others’ feelings and viewpoints are more likely to act fairly. In other words, as young children develop beyond the “I” perspective into “you” and “we,” they are more capable of being fair. 

In addition, the way children perceive and practice fairness is significantly shaped by their interactions with parents, teachers, and peers, as well as by cultural norms. While fairness is valued in most, if not all, cultures, there are differences in what is considered “fair” based on cultural emphases of “I” and “we.” Individualistic cultures emphasize personal autonomy, individual rights, and self-reliance. Members of such cultures often prioritize personal goals over group goals and value independence and personal achievement. In the individualistic culture of the US, when conflicts arise during children’s play, adults help children negotiate fair shares that respect the equal rights of individuals.

In comparison, collectivistic cultures emphasize group harmony, family and community cohesion, and interdependence. Members of such cultures are more likely to prioritize group goals over personal goals and value cooperation and social relationships. At the Good Starts project, we have been consulting with people from different cultures in an effort to understand how children develop a sense of self in relation to others in groups. Here are three anecdotes about conflict resolution that offer cultural insights.

The older child yields to the younger

In China and Taiwan, the concept of 讓 rang or yield is the default strategy for conflict resolution. When children fight over toys at home, adults would typically say to the older child, “You’re older, you need to yield to the younger and let them have the toy.” According to Sing-ying Chung, an early childhood educator in Taiwan, the strategy of yielding is also commonly applied in mixed-age classrooms, where the teacher would further explain to older students, “You are the big sister and big brother in this class. You are more capable, so you are responsible for taking care of the little brothers and sisters.” 

Xin Xiang, a Harvard Graduate School of Education graduate, currently a faculty member at Beijing Normal University, shared an experience of her daughter who, as young as 2.5 years of age, could follow rules of turn-taking and sharing when adults around her share the expectation. However, when extended family members with more traditional values are around, her daughter learned to take advantage of being the youngest, grabbing toys without asking and expecting others to yield to her. These outcomes often counteracted Xin’s attempt to raise her child to negotiate for fair share and turn-taking.

Rang, or yielding, is rooted in Confucian philosophy. This long-surviving system of thought and action emphasizes that everyone occupies a specific role in the hierarchy, beginning with the family. Those in the lower ranks of the hierarchy (son/daughter, younger sibling, student, employee) respect the higher ranks (parent, older sibling, teacher, boss), while the higher ranks strive to be benevolent leaders (仁君 ren jun) and take care of those in the lower ranks. Being a big sibling is, developmentally, one’s first task in life of being benevolent, and yielding is taught as the strategy. The idea is: you were once the youngest and everyone yielded to you. Now that you are older and more capable, you have the responsibility to yield and take care of those who are younger. This is considered “fair” because the older care for the younger while the younger respect the older, and the harmonious “we” is more valued than the equal rights of “I.” The structure of the collective is maintained, where all the individuals behave according to their roles in the hierarchy based on benevolence.

The One Child Policy in China resulted in a generation without siblings, limiting opportunities for children to learn and practice yielding at home. To counteract these effects, early childhood educators in China have taken on the mission of teaching young children how to share and interact with peers, placing an emphasis on social development at school. The One Child Policy ended in 2015, and its long-term effects are still being observed.

One big bucket

Iris Ponte, an early childhood educator in the Boston area, shared an observation she made while conducting research at a Japanese preschool. The sandbox in the preschool’s playground was a popular spot to play, but the toys were a source of conflict. One boy in particular was often at the center of conflicts - he demanded the best toys and grabbed what he wanted from others. To help resolve the conflicts, the teachers offered more toys so that the children did not have to share, yet they continued to find new things to fight over. Observing the situation, a veteran teacher offered her advice, “One big bucket is what they need.”

The next morning in the sandbox, all the toys were put away except for one big bucket. As the children arrived, the boy who was usually the center of conflict immediately declared, “This bucket is mine!” He kept the bucket to himself and went to work, filling it with sand using his bare hands. Soon he realized he couldn’t do it alone, and so he asked other children for help. Before long, a group of children worked on filling the bucket together, and when they succeeded, they cheered! Then it came time to tip the bucket over. The boy exclaimed, “I will do it by myself!” yet he was not able to. Again, he had to ask other children for help, and when they succeeded in tipping over the heavy bucket together, they erupted into another big cheer!

By taking away all the toys and leaving only one big bucket, the thoughtful veteran teacher fostered a sense of group by creating a need for “we,” which helped each “I” find their purpose in the group effort. Fairness is not about each individual having an equal share, as the less experienced teachers tried to do by offering more toys, but about the group uniting under a superseding goal and forming a bond as a collective. 

What do you need the toy for?

The Opal School, a charter school in Portland, Oregon, collaborated with Project Zero on the Inspiring Agents of Change project. A goal of this work was to identify the learning conditions that support inventiveness in early childhood and primary schools. The project explored inventiveness in social-emotional as well as other realms of development. In a learning moment documented on video, a small group of young children were engaged in pretend play using pebbles, loose parts, and little plastic frogs at the water table. One of the children had fewer frogs than others and complained, “Not fair!”

As is typical in schools in the US, the children negotiated. What differed was the  response of the Opal School teacher – instead of guiding the children towards equal shares, she encouraged the child who complained to talk to his peers and ask: What do you need the frogs for? What are you planning to do? The questions got the children talking about their ideas for playing. When one of the children explained that he was planning to build an underwater playground for all the frogs, the children got excited! As they each pushed frogs into the middle of the water table, they happily collaborated on this new idea.

Here each “I” was respected, their ideas fully heard, eventually forming a “we” with a negotiated, shared purpose. Teaching practices like these created a culture in the Opal School that went against the grain of the mainstream, individualistic culture of the US, valuing the relationships built in the collective as well as the individual rights of children.

Conclusion

Children develop their sense of self in relation to others in a group in the contexts of their school and home cultures. The cultures we happen to have grown up in likely have an emphasis on individualism or collectivism, but the cultures we foster for children as educators and family members do not have to be limited as such. What can we learn from other cultures’ values on individuals, relationships, and groups?  How can we foster a new, inventive perspective of “I”, “we”, and “they” in young children, so that the  next generation can think, feel, and act beyond the “I”? These are some of the questions we ponder at the Good Starts project. We would love to learn about your experiences and ideas. Please comment below!

Can we learn from "Old Enough"—a TV show that sends young children out alone?

By Shinri Furuzawa

Audiences around the world have been charmed—but occasionally horrified—by the hit Netflix show, Old Enough. In this show from Japan, parents send children as young as two years old to complete various errands outside the home. These errands sometimes involve crossing busy traffic, walking distances of up to two miles, or taking a bus or ferry. The children, unbeknownst to them, carry hidden microphones which record their voiced thoughts. They are also trailed by a camera crew, disguised as passersby or workmen, to film them and ensure their safety.

In Japanese, the show translates to My First Errand

In every episode there is some dramatic tension as things inevitably go wrong. The children get scared; forget which items they are sent to buy; and/or can’t find what they’re looking for. A four-year-old girl in one episode takes so long completing her errand that the sun goes down and the production team has to light her way home. Presumably most members of the audience root for these very young children to complete their tasks successfully; indeed some viewers are moved to tears as the youngsters face and typically overcome various challenges.

Dangerous and irresponsible?

In the United States, a common reaction to the show is “That could never happen here, parents would be arrested!” It’s true that American police have been called on parents who allow their children out unaccompanied to play in the park, or walk the dog. Minority and low-income parents are particularly vulnerable to this intervention by the law. Fears about child safety, however, may well be  misplaced—the US is not a dangerous place for children, and abduction by a stranger, perhaps a parent’s greatest fear, is only 0.1% of FBI missing children cases.

That said, compared to many other developed societies, Japan is a safer country for children to roam. Urban planning means, for example, that residential streets are usually narrower with rare on-street parking. There are also fewer sidewalks. One might expect this geographical layout to be more dangerous, but actually in Japan cars are expected to watch out for and avoid pedestrians with the onus on drivers to be careful rather than the other way around. Mixed zoning also allows neighborhoods to include small businesses in residential areas—meaning children often don’t have far to go if they are sent to run errands. 

In comparison with the United States, which my colleagues and I consider to be a very egocentric (or “I-oriented”) society, Japan has a decidedly communal approach to childrearing. Indeed, “it takes a village,” with adults in the neighborhoods looking out for the local children. Contrary to expectation, Japanese cities can have closer communities than smaller towns as people live in greater proximity. Japanese parents are most likely to agree that they know people who would help their children if needed and this number rises in more urban communities.

The true goal of interdependence

Admirers of Old Enough see what these Japanese children are able to achieve; and many worry that children in their own countries don’t have enough autonomy or independence. But what Old Enough actually demonstrates is the Japanese value of interdependence. In this East Asian collectivist culture, the objective is not to achieve self-efficacy and achievement of personal goals. The aim is rather to nurture children to be responsive to the social needs and expectations of others while avoiding tension and conflict. Eminent social psychologists, Hazel Markus and Shinobu Kitayama, describe this as being “harmoniously connected to others.” The tasks assigned to children on Old Enough are tasks that will presumably help and benefit others—be it their family members or others in the community. The children are being asked to contribute and not just to benefit themselves. Sample errands include buying food for a sick sibling, picking up firewood for a cookout for friends and family, and delivering juice to thirsty fruit pickers. 

Boy aged 2 years 10 months, given candy before being sent on errand to dry cleaner (Originally broadcast by Fuji TV, 2017)

An example conveys this tension: In one episode, a two-year-old boy initially refuses to go out on his errand to pick up dry cleaning for his father, the owner of a sushi restaurant. His mother sternly tells him that his father will not be able to work if he doesn’t have his clean chef whites and they would have to close the restaurant if he can’t work. The responsibility of the family business is thus placed on the shoulders of the two-year-old son. Accordingly, for the benefit of his family, with a hug from his mother (and a treat in mouth), he sets off to the dry cleaner located about 60 yards away. He manages to do the errand and return home—though the dry-cleaning drags on the ground behind him as he is too small to lift it!

Children on the show generally feel a sense of duty to complete the tasks to help their family or community in some way. After successfully achieving their tasks, the children therefore feel proud of themselves and valued, they receive due praise and appreciation and are celebrated for their contribution. As an example, parents tell them that thanks to the groceries they brought home, dinner will taste more delicious.

The pattern I have described is not restricted to Japan. While visiting her family in Taiwan—an East Asian country with a similar collectivist culture to Japan—my colleague Yvonne Liu-Constant went to pick up her 3-year-old nephew, Joshua, from preschool. He was excited to see her (a cherished aunt visiting from America) and began running around everywhere. Suddenly, his teacher approached him and said something quietly. Joshua immediately went to his cubby and, to Yvonne’s surprise, returned with a well-organized backpack that he had neatly packed all by himself. Yvonne was impressed Joshua had managed this feat. His mother explained that all year, the children had been trained on how to organize their backpacks through step-by-step homework which built on skills to teach this responsibility. The reason? For children to be helpful to their parents. Increased independence and personal responsibility may be the result, but benefiting others is the supervening goal. 

AN Inspiring lesson

We may all have something to learn from this Japanese approach of encouraging children to think beyond themselves through errands or responsibilities which are acts of service. With proper guidance from caring adults and a supportive community, even very young children are capable of more than we might believe. Perhaps this Japanese TV show provides some insight on how we can all learn to think less about “me” and more about “we.”

The Good Starts Project is generously funded by the Saul Zaentz Charitable Foundation.

I’d like to thank Howard Gardner, Mara Krechevsky, and Yvonne Liu-Constant for their valuable comments on an earlier draft.