These are some questions that I jotted down in a moment of deep frustration as we attended last year’s conference with the Oregon Association for the Education of Young Children. I was reflecting on a juxtaposition that I had encountered at the conference for the previous day. The Opal School was presenting this year. They hold many workshops and a symposium at their school each year, but it was the first time that they had chosen to present a workshop at the OAEYC conference. Because I have been to many an Opal School Symposium in years past, I decided that I would not attend their workshop at the OAEYC conference. However, I found myself in a workshop that I could not sit through, and for the first time I purposefully left a workshop halfway through. From there, I went to the Opal School presentation. There I was satisfied with stories of children’s learning that captivated my heart, and reflections by teachers who were invested in their children, their journeys, and the poetry of their work. This difference was intriguing to me- one workshop that I could not stand to sit through, and another that captured my heart and mind.
I wrote: It seems that we have become so culturally obsessed with the fragmentation of everything in our paths, and that our job as teachers who are creative and “deep thinkers” (more on this later), is to resist fragmentation of our selves and our communities. And especially the fragmentation of the growth of our children.
(Today I would add that it is our job as Feminisists, Progressives, and Activists…. to return our world to a balanced and loving state.)
These two moments of reflection led me to question what we are really doing as teachers. When we use the term co-learner in the field of Reggio-inspired learning, what do we mean? If we are co-learners, then we are learning alongside children… and the implications for society are two-fold, not only afecting the children but ourselves as well:
1- If we are teaching children to live on the surfaces of reality, then we too, are being trained by ourselves to live on that surface. We are training not only our children but ourselves, to disconnect. If we are disconnected, then we do not care.
2- Likewise, if we are teaching and learning in this way, children do not care.
Think about those outcomes…
Vea Vecchi, one of Reggio Emilia’s great thinkers and atelieristas, offers the following:
Each discipline- or rather language- is made up of rationality, imagination, emotion, and aesthetics. Cultures which rigidly separate these qualities and processes of thinking inevitably tend to subtract part of the processes from the various disciplines or languages. They recognize the rational part of an engineer, the imaginative part of an architect, the cognitive part of a mathematician, the expressive part of an artist and so on, in simple categories.
In this act of fragmentation and exclusion of some of the processes which, I repeat, belong to our species’ way of thinking and constitute a biological inheritance that is probably ancestral, cultural resources are effectively diminished and there is a consequent impoverishment in the overall quality of concepts and thinking.
Rationality without feeling and emptahy, like imagination without cognition and rationality, build up partial, incomplete human knowledge.
At the conference I also noticed the apparent difference in the quality of the minds and thoughts of the educators who were present. The threads ran deep and wide.
I am struck by the general carelessness of many educators’ approaches to young children and the work that we do. Or perhaps it is the lack of time that we allow for reflection, so that all of our time is spent trying to get somewhere, and then where are we? Are we so rushed that we cannot slow down to express, question, become?
How much of carelessness is the result of not being cared for? I had a conversation about these matters with a friend recently and she brought up the idea that some of us are “deep thinkers”. Some of us are poetic. Some of us are musical. Some of us are… fill in the blanks. Which leaves the assumption that, well, some of us are not. This is a comforting thought, if you are one of those “deep thinkers”. But as I was speaking with her I questioned this. What if it’s just a matter of opportunity? What if that line of thinking (some have got it, some don’t) is a systemic way of maintaining the status quo- of maintaining this patriarchal, animus-oriented collective pysche? What if we as a world, have so much unlocked potential, that to experience it might be world-changing?
I mean, at the risk of sounding too optimistic, what if it’s about opportunity?
I see teachers who, when posed with the idea that a young child may have “rights”, roll their eyes. I gather that these people have never felt that same respect as a child or as an adult, and that perhaps the poetic voice inside them has never been given any length of rope.
Children have the right to play, to explore, and to learn by doing. They have the right to become deep thinkers… no quotes.
The atelier, that creative mind-set or the phycial studio, is a small fraction of our classroom. AND, our whole classroom is the atelier, is the studio, is that frame of mind. We are works in progress, as is our world. Play teaches us that we have choice, opportunity.
The atelier is a small fraction of our world. AND, our whole world is the atelier, is that mind-set, is the studio. Children, people, need choice, need opportunity, to play, to think, to Mess About. Many children do not have this opportunity. Much of our thinking becomes fragmented early on in life. Let’s think about who that helps.
We have great power as teachers, parents, caregivers- to learn alongside with children about our individual voices, our collective voice, and our right to become poets.
Perhaps with this lens, we can feel fulfilled again as a collective. Perhaps we can breathe through the fear of not having enough. Perhaps we can gain the opportunity that we all deserve- to be free, to play, to create, and to be whole.