“Are you satisfied?”: Learning through repeat experience

If you’re interested in the Reggio Emilia approach to early childhood education, there’s no better expert to learn from than Marie Catrett of Tigerlily Preschool in South Austin. We’re pleased once again to publish a lovely photo essay in which Marie shows and tells how she artfully helps a young learner gain skill and deeper understanding through repetition of a chosen activity.

At Tigerlily children choose how they spend their time. We’re interested in what the children are interested in and look for opportunities to think more deeply together about their work. 

Monday

M chooses to begin his day at the paint easel and is set up with red, blue, yellow, black, and white paint on a big tray. “See what you can make happen here,” is the invitation.

Soon M calls Marie over to show her how delighted he is with his paint water.

M: I made purple right there!
Then he asks: Marie, how do you make pink?
Marie: Hmm, do you want to experiment and see what you can figure out? Or are you asking for a recipe, about how to do it?
M considers.
M: Tell me how to do it.
Marie: Okay, I would try a splooch of white—
M dabs a big brushful of white.
Marie: And then, just a tiiiiny dab of red. See what you think of that.

M is pleased with the pink he makes.
Marie: Mixing on the tray is great because when you make a color you like, you can use the brush to put the color on the paper.
M wants another recipe and asks:  How do you make green?

M makes green.

That evening, M’s mom writes: “M’s favorite creature at the moment is called a ‘Jaquin’ from Disney’s Elena of Avalor show. I wanted to share since it’s a harder name/creature to figure out.”

Jaquin from Disney’s Elena of Avalor

Marie writes back: “This is beautiful! You’ll read more about [M] and color mixing in the documentation today. I’m printing Jaquin to have in the classroom in case that inspires more painting or other work for him. Thanks for connecting us with something he finds so special.

Tuesday

Marie shows M the image she’s printed of Jaquin.
Marie: Would you like to try and paint this? You’ve been making such wonderful colors at the paint easel.
Oh yes, M very much would and works for a long, focused time with yellow and blue.

When he declares his work is finished, he puts his painting on the drying rack. Marie notices the drips in what he’s made but does not point them out, taking her cue from his sense of satisfaction. She wonders if he will want to work more on this piece another time and makes a written note to think about the support she might offer the next time he paints, how she might offer help around the frustration of watery paint marks.

Wednesday

 Marie and M begin by looking back at yesterday’s work together.

Marie: I remember you working hard on this yesterday. What do you think? Would you want to add more to this? Does it feel finished?
It is M who points to the drips coming down from multiple points.
M: It’s not right.
Marie: Ah yes, I see those drippy places the paint made too.
She looks to him for clarification.
Marie: You don’t want those drip marks?
No, says M.

She’s been pondering the help she might offer him. He might want to enhance the existing image by adding to the paper or using a pair of scissors to cut the image out, leaving the drips behind. She’s careful to center him as the sayer of what he wants. He’s the engine making his work go, and she’s there to lend her knowledge and skills in support of his vision.

Marie: I think you have some options. If you want to work more on this painting, one idea could be to add more paint to paint over the drips. We could also get some scissors and cut out the parts you don’t want to keep and throw those drips away. Another option could be to start a new painting, and I can show you how to get less drips from your brush.

 M decides to start a new painting. He will make another Jaquin.

 Marie shows him how a wet brush can be very drippy. Wiping the brush off on the inside edge of the water container will help it be less wet.
Marie: And, if we add a sponge to your tray and you dab the wet brush on the sponge after washing it between colors, the brush will be drier too. Today you can give it a try and see what you think.
Marie: Now let’s look at the Jaquin picture again, so you can think about what else you might try when you paint a Jaquin today. Do you see a shape you’ll make to start?
M (touching the blue places along Jaquin’s sides): I will start with the spots.

After adding wings, he says his painting is finished and begins to carry it to the drying rack.
Oh! M realizes, I need to add the feet!
He returns to the easel and adds legs before carrying the paper back to the drying rack a second time.
Oh! M has another part he decides he must add!
M: Now I need to add a tail!

Adding a tail

M and the second Jaquin

M: I like it!

Thursday

M and Marie look at the paintings again. She is thrilled that he’s done repeat work and wants to highlight that.

Children build on what they know when they have the opportunity to repeat their experiences and try a new approach. When you discover something you like to do, there should be lots more time doing that good-feeling thing!

Marie: I know you liked the second Jaquin better, and I can see how much you like thinking about him. You could make even another Jaquin, if you want to.

M starts a third Jaquin. Now he adds even more details to his creature: the Jaquin’s wings have feathers, and the feet are given claws.

M uses the sponge technique to manage the brush marks more skillfully. This refinement has become part of his painting repertoire.

A supporting teacher asks if children are required to wash out their brushes between colors.

No, washing the brush between colors can be taught to a child who is thinking, like M is, about color combinations, and discovering that keeping the yellow as yellow is now an important part of the process. Another painter may be content to mix it all up. We have lots of paint and fresh cups that can come out when a child wants them.

The paint tray meets children exactly where they are. The children grow and bring their ever more expansive selves to the easel, again and again.

Working on his third version today, M peers closely at the original inspiration picture, taking in even more detail now.
M: The paws must be where the claws hide inside.

When the latest Jaquin is finished, M studies all three paintings. Another child, intrigued and present for the very first Jaquin painting M made, comes over to look too. We admire M’s work together.

Marie: Wow, I really see how much thinking you’re doing about your Jaquin paintings! Each time you paint, I see you learning more about how you want to make it. Now that you’ve made three Jaquin paintings, which one do you like the best?
The third one, M decides.
Marie: What makes you feel like this one is your best work?
M: Because of the claws.

—Marie Catrett, Teacher-Founder-Director | Tigerlily Preschool

Discover some gems south of the river: The Small Schools of South Austin Educational Fair

Frequent blog contributor Marie Catrett, of Tigerlily Preschool, and her colleagues at the Small Schools of South Austin, have an invitation for you and your family:

I'm spreading the word about the upcoming Small Schools of South Austin Educational Fair happening on Saturday, April 5th, 9am–noon, at upRising Church, located at 8601 S. 1st Street, Austin Texas 78748. This is a free family event, open to all. 

Small Schools of South Austin is a group of educators, each of us independently running a small school program somewhere south of the river. Our collective is a varied group. We have differing educational inspirations and philosophies—some of us focus on outdoor learning, some are play based. Many of our members are Montessori guides, while others find inspiration in Waldorf or the Reggio approach. We have programs that view learning through the lens of exploring art or prioritize giving children space and freedom outside the city limits. Still others of us are looking to reinterpret existing labels, attempting to describe something that hasn’t existed before. Many of us are teaching and raising our own children. A common cause for creating a small school is that the program you wanted for your child didn’t exist yet. And if you’re pretty brave, determined, and maybe a little crazy, you make it happen. 

Small schools are wonderful schools. You can find reduced class sizes and beautiful, home-like environments with so much love and character. In these spaces, children are seen. In these groups, children become known. There’s a sense of freedom and choice on the part of those teaching. We are here to bring our vision, without administrative hindrances, directly into the lives of the children who need us. 

It can be hard to discover that we exist as an option for your family. We’re tucked away. We’re part of a connected but smaller immediate community. You need to hear about us from a neighbor maybe, or a friend. We’re, well, small. 

The Small Schools of South Austin collective formed to help more families connect with our programs. In the fall we host a multiple-schools-wide open house day, where each school opens their doors for the morning and families are able to tour several of the programs they’re most curious about. This spring marks our inaugural educational fair, where around twenty participating programs will be set up under one roof. Families are invited to come browse our tables to learn more about each of our programs and upcoming enrollment options. Schools will offer hands-on activities for children at many of the booths, host several local vendors, and feature a music performance. 

Please encourage your friends and neighbors to attend. We are community gems who want—and deserve—to be discovered. 

We hope to see you there! 

—Marie Catrett, Teacher-Founder-Director and proud Small Schools member | Tigerlily Preschool

The Festival of Learning is back!

After taking a few years off from organizing community education events, I couldn’t be prouder to let you know that the Festival of Learning is back—bigger and better than ever! On Saturday, February 24, more than 30 innovative schools and educational programs are taking over the beautiful space of the Branch Park Pavilion at Mueller.

This means that, rain or shine, families will be able to visit with educators and students, play games, try new arts and crafts, and learn more about the growing alternative education community in Austin. It all happens from 10am to 1pm, and you can find the details, including all the participating schools, on the Alt Ed Austin website.

The Festival has always been a fun gathering of amazing local educators who want to share their passion for learning. But this year feels special because we’ve been able to expand the number of participants and guests we can host in the fantastic space at Mueller. Parents and kids of all ages will be able to talk to school representatives—including students—and look at cool projects they’ve created. Hands-on experiences will include art projects, code wheels and puzzle boxes, magnet science, knife skills and kitchen hacks, bookmaking, wildflower seed crafts, and much more.

For example, Marie from Tigerlily Preschool offered us a preview of what she’s got in store for little visitors to the Festival: “At Tigerlily children express their own ideas through paint, clay, building, collage, mud making, dance, and drawing. Our table at the festival honors this last medium, drawing, as a powerful tool for young children. Come join our community doodle!”

For older learners, Amy from Headwaters School said they will be sharing “an interactive Identity Board where attendees can use yarn to signify different parts of their identities on a large labeled peg board.” You’ll have to come to the Festival if you want to discover exactly what that mysterious project is all about!

And for those in-between ages and everyone else, Pascal from Bake Austin and Ken from Austin School for the Driven are teaming up to teach basic knife skills (with cut-proof gloves provided!) along with some handy kitchen hacks.

Our goal this year is to give learners of all ages a chance to discover the wealth of opportunities available in Austin’s creative, learner-centered schools, as well as beyond-school programs. The open setting at Branch Park Pavilion allows everyone to move from booth to booth easily to chat, share ideas, and take part in all the activities. And our new location right in the heart of the Mueller business district makes it easy to stop for lunch or a snack before the Festival and burn off some energy at the playground afterward.

Please take a look at our Festival of Learning webpage or Facebook event page for all the information you need about how to get there and where to park, as well as ways to share the details with friends and family. We hope to see you there!

Now this really looks like an alligator!

Marie Catrett is back with another glimpse into the world of children’s learning and growth at Tigerlily Preschool in South Austin. Marie is inspired by Reggio Emilia and informed by her deep curiosity and many years of experience working with young children. This guest contribution is adapted from one of her regular letters to Tigerlily families.

5/4/2023

Marie writes:

Today is a fine example of how we can help children think more deeply about their work and loan them the use of our skills in a way that helps them grow their own.              

Marie (as we’re headed into the classroom, to R, a young three-year-old in our group): I have a question I want to ask you, about the alligator you made in clay yesterday.

R’s alligator is a flat face figure, with drawn-in eyes and a cheerful mouth, and this piece stands up because he added a nice big tail at the back in response to my asking, “Can you think of anything else your alligator needs?”

Today we look at Alligator together. It’s so charming as is, and doesn’t necessarily need any further embellishment if R doesn’t want to go further, but maybe . . .

Marie: Here’s a question I have for you. I notice you drew the alligator’s mouth, and I wanted to ask you something. May I look at a picture of an alligator with you?

We look at some pages from a well-known current story in our group, Mrs. Chicken and the Hungry Crocodile.

Illustration by Julie Paschkis, in Mrs. Chicken and the Hungry Crocodile, by Won-Ldy Paye and Margaret H. Lippert.

Marie: I’m wondering (this is me asking children about their work, are you satisfied?), sometimes people make an alligator and it feels important to show about teeth. It’s up to you (me, really working hard to make a yes or a no thanks be acceptable here, the maker truly is in charge, but the opportunity to add a meaningful detail is always exciting to me!), but if you’re interested in adding teeth to your alligator, that’s something we could think about together.

R looks at the pictures and announces that yes, his alligator needs some teeth.

My co-teacher, Lulu, has the excellent idea that it might also help to go look at the toy alligator that’s been such a popular player in the classroom this week.

From earlier in the week: the wild animals birthday party, no wilding allowed.

Re: no wilding allowed at the party, the alligators take a meeting.

Ah ha, looking back at play this week, it makes sense that thinking about alligators has been on R’s mind, enough to want to make one with the clay.

And while looking at images can help kids think more about what they want to do, touching an example of what they’re thinking about is even better.

R explores the mouth of the alligator. His first “face” alligator is also in the frame above.

I am imagining helping him add bits of clay to his drawn mouth line to make the wanted addition of teeth happen, but R now has a richer vision of how to make this alligator more alligator-y.

 R: I think an alligator should have an open mouth. And teeth. And a tongue that sticks out.

Marie: Hmmm. Wow. Okay. Oh! You know what, when my potter friend Jane came to show us about how she uses clay, she said starting with a pinch pot is a great way to make creatures. Would you like to try that?

Yes, says R, and we get a small ball of clay out to begin with a pinch pot. When it’s big enough, and turned on its side, R sees the shape he needs to decide it’s an open mouth. He adds eyes on top by drawing them on, in the way he’d done on the “face” version.

 Marie: I heard you say about teeth. I can think of two ways you could add those . . .

I take an extra bit of clay and show him some options to think about. You could use the tool to draw them in, as he’s done his eyes. Fingers could pinch up some teeth bumps maybe? Or . . .

Marie: These are just to show some ideas, but you’re the maker, so it’s up to you what you’d like to do.

R likes the idea of using his fingers to make “teeth shapes” out of clay. He places them where he thinks they need to go on the mouth, and I help him make them attach securely.

Marie: You know what, I bet you could also make a tongue shape like you’re wanting.

From left to right: R’s first and then second alligator.

As we’re looking at the finished work, an older child says, with admiration, of the second piece: “Wow, now this really looks like an alligator!”

One of my favorite things about striving to be a Reggio-inspired teacher is working with children like this:

I hear your interesting idea.
Let’s think more about this together.
I see a way that I can be a resource for what you’re wanting to do.
Here are some options to think about what feels right to you.
What do you think?
And, are you satisfied?

Marie Catrett | Tigerlily Preschool

“They’ll have to stop sometime”: Notes on taking turns at Tigerlily Preschool

Longtime readers of this blog will recognize the name and voice of Marie Catrett, founder and teacher at Tigerlily Preschool. Joining Marie in the dialogue below, adapted from the school’s blog, is her co-teacher, Lulu Bautista, who shares some scenes from a recent day on the playground. It’s a fascinating conversation that gives us a small taste of the kinds of careful observation, detailed documentation, and deep discussion these Reggio Emilia–inspired educators engage in daily with each other, parents, and the young humans in their care.

4/7/2022

Lulu writes:

Emme and Aran have the idea to sweep off some dirt-covered stones around the pyramid structure and chairs in our play yard. I’m sitting nearby, still pondering Emme’s description of the cloudless “bluebird sky” that we’d been discussing only moments ago. . . .

Aran: (frustrated) Unhhh, but you’ve already had a tooooo long turn!

He’s talking about the sweeping brush.

Emme: But I actually just got my turn and I’m not finished sweeping this stone yet.

Lulu: Yes. Sometimes when we’re waiting it can feel like So Long to Wait. (Pausing to think.) You know, part of our agreements at Tigerlily are that we can’t make a person give us a turn right exactly when we ask for it, even though we’re very ready for a turn. Sometimes it just happens to work out that way and the person is finished quickly . . . but sometimes we have to let them be done, which can be so hard!

Emme decides she is done, and hands the brush to Aran: There! It’s all clean. But there’s this brick over here that is covered up with dirt.

Aran, brushing away, and still thinking a little longer: But what if it takes all day? And they use it for the whole day?

Lulu: That is a very understandable worry that some kids might have. But it would be very rare for that to happen. Usually the person using the thing will eventually have enough and be ready to try something else.

Emme: Yeah, they’ll have to stop sometime! Like to go potty. Or play with someone or something.

Lulu: So, yes, after we say “me next,” and the person reassures you that they’ve heard you want a turn (“Okay, you can have a turn after me”), a helpful tool could be figuring out what to do while we wait. Emme, do you have an idea of what you’ll do while you wait?

Emme: Yeah, I would climb on those stumps, that’s what I’m gonna go do right now.

Not pictured: Aran joins her for some stump climbing, and they spend a little more time passing the brush back and forth for sweeping, before moving on to something else.

I’m thinking about how I generally like to encourage the children to build the skills to be able to navigate these situations with less & less adult intervention, and I often try not to be the decider of “you have two more minutes, then it’s the next person’s turn.” But also–beyond waiting—not getting a turn at all can be very frustrating!!

I really like Marie’s tool of having a promise board—if we run out of time before someone gets a turn, a promise is written for a turn at the next chance we get.

An additional strategy: If we are getting close to a transition, I might say quietly to the person who’s having the turn, “you know, we only have about 10 minutes left before it’s time for snack, and I notice that Aran’s been waiting for a turn for a long time. Do you have some ideas of how he might get a turn?”

I like empowering the children to think about what feels right and fair. Usually I’ll get some version of “Maybe we can do it together!” or “Maybe we can find another one just like it, if someone else is done” or “Actually, I’m done. Here you go Aran!” and it’s true—very rarely, almost never, does it happen that the waiting goes on forever.

Further teacher dialogue:

Marie: In this situation I see two children, who know and care about each other, experiencing some workable frustration around waiting. Emme’s got some smart ideas to help manage her time. Here are some more generalized thoughts from me on waiting and turns. “Can you think of a way” is helpful for children who have a lot of language and skill. I also think sometimes children need the support/reassurance of a structured here’s-how-to-get-a-turn.

Lulu: Yes! I could see adjusting this language in the moment to something more structured, like "To make sure Aran gets a turn, some kids might try using the brush together.” (See if that works.) “Another idea is finding something just like that thing you're using.” (See if that works.) . . . “Maybe, another idea is counting to 10 while you finish using it" and see what kind of ideas generate from there. Ultimately, if nothing sticks, "I'm hearing that you're just not ready to be done right now. Can you please come find Aran and let him know when it's his turn? To Aran: “Let's see what interesting things we can find to do while you wait."

Marie: I like the notion that we will always help you get a turn, and help the waiting part be not so hard. I try to help so that the ones least able to wait get through the quickest. Thinking again about manageable frustration.

Lulu: I'm trying to envision how this works. Like if someone is having a hard time waiting, they'd get to jump the waiting line to get their turn quicker? I'd like to know more about this! I can definitely see how we all have different capacities for how much frustration we can hold, until we spill over, and how it can fluctuate depending on the day.

Marie: So, let’s say we’re introducing a new material and it’s two people at a time, and I know one of the people wanting a turn badly has a very hard time waiting. I’d be putting them in the first group if that were possible. Maybe not always. But I’m probably putting some thought into the order.

Lulu: Ah okay! Yes, I see how in a situation like that, where it's more of a structured offering, we'd be thinking about how to plan an order.

Marie: For kids who are working on using their words—Z grabbing stuff, for example. Or how Charlie can be quieter about a need—if he’s asking for a turn-—I’m going to do my best to check in with him—you might want to try the such and such too… Kid (who hasn’t expressed that want yet but when asked realizes, yes!): Yeah! Me: Okay, let them know you’d like a turn next please.

I’d help that kid get the payoff of getting that turn they are asking for/being helped with language to ask. Sometimes getting a turn feels crucial to build trust between me and a new child. That this is a place where you’ll get to do the things you’re interested in, and here’s how to get your name on the list / say you would like to be next / let another child know you’re still using the shovel. Sometimes that’s me, in the moment, making teacher decisions that should probably be followed up with discussions about fairness and how we make sure this is a good-feeling place for everyone.

Lulu: Yes, I can see how we'd want someone who is practicing at something (using words to ask) to feel successful. And how so much context of a situation can influence our decision making, in the moment.

Marie: Yes! In Reggio they’re very fond of saying “it depends.” Can you say more about what “Tigerlily agreements” are?

Lulu: I think in the specific agreement of Sharing, if someone is using something, we want to honor their agency to decide when they've used it and feel they've had a complete turn to explore to their satisfaction (and as a teacher goal, that the children would be able to build executive function skills and eventually self-regulate in recognizing that someone needs a turn and how to respect that, or how to manage their waiting). I could see inviting the children to help build an agreement around sharing, and teachers having a bigger discussion before deciding something as a School Culture Agreement. Maybe a better phrase would be that those are my personal goals as a teacher.

Marie: Sure, a simple guideline for that falls under the idea about not taking things from someone, but if you’ve put it down / left the item without making a plan, it’s considered available.

Lulu: Yes, just a general guideline to fall back on. And that's a good reminder about "walking away being a signal to others that you're all done"! Kind of opposite, but I'm reminded of a situation today where Zia was swinging, but hopped off real quick to look at something interesting the group was ooohing and ahhhhing over nearby (a natural impulse), and Emme was waiting and watching for a turn, so she jumped to the swing as soon as Zia hopped out . . . but when Zia turned around just a moment later after satisfactorily checking out the Interesting Thing, he was visibly stunned for a moment to see the swing had been taken. The great thing here was Emme reading the situation before Zia even had a chance to say anything, and stepping back off the swing so that Zia could finish his turn, and I made a point to notice aloud that it was thoughtful of her to recognize that he actually wasn't done with his turn, even though he looked like he was for a moment. So, I guess, I’m pausing here to think about how context can factor heavily into how we utilize our rules of thumb.

Marie: Right now, I’m watching the swings to see how the children are self-managing turns. There’s some turn taking with an agenda happening—Z and one of the olders swinging, another older also wanting a turn. It was sort of assumed that obviously Z should be the one to get off. Which isn’t a bad strategy exactly; he probably will be the first one to get off! But that will feel unfair at some point, and perhaps rightly so. 

Lulu: Yeah! Absolutely. No one but Zia should get to decide when Zia's turn is finished. I'd like to pay close attention to the swinging too, and if anyone is being pressured to end a turn, then support that with a boundary: you can let the swinging people know you'd like a turn, and they can reassure you that someone will come tell you when it's your turn. Let's think of a plan for what can happen while you wait, and if someone is feeling pressured to be done, let's give them a little space to have their turn.

Marie: If Zia had been there a long time, the waiting kid had indicated they needed a turn, and was still waiting and waiting, I would probably teacher-decide Zia’s turn was ending soon. Maybe just notice out loud first. I would then probably say let’s count to X and then give Aran his turn, it’s been a long wait and I’d like him to have a turn before we have to go inside.

Lulu: I hear that and respect it as an option you might choose. For me (and possibly you too? if it felt right for you, but you get to say, of course), I don’t think I’d leave the child to be waiting and waiting, unless that was the choice they made. I’d see it as an opportunity to help with some skill building around what we can do while we wait, adaptive thinking in “how I can manage the waiting,” communication acquiring in saying, “I’m ready for a turn, don’t forget about me,” emotional recognition (it’s feeling hard for me to wait), etc.

Marie: I would support making a “how you get a turn” system to manage the waiting when needed; in the past it’s been something like counting to 30 and then the next kid gets a turn. A list to put your name down to sign up, so you can go do your thing and get called over when it opens up. Like Emme and your good question about how to help the waiting.

Lulu: I think a list could be helpful! But I'd want to see the children using that system mostly on their own, so I'm not managing the list, but supporting them if confusion arises. For my own personal strategies, I'd use counting down as a last resort, as it can be arbitrary and feel like a forced turn-ending, which I'd like to avoid. But I could see inviting the "child having the turn" to count down for themselves, if it felt like an idea that worked for them.

Marie: Why avoid ensuring turns happen, as teacher?

Lulu: Not avoiding ensuring turns happen, but being okay and supportive if having a turn doesn't happen exactly as the child expects it to (so, supporting with a promise on the board, a talk about how it was disappointing to not have a turn, a plan for more materials when possible, a plan for next time). I'm especially thinking of moments where organically someone wants a turn with something being used, the clock runs out, it's time to transition, the turn didn't happen. Theoretically, having a group of 10, but only 2 swings, or something like that. At the Corazón park, there was only one swing. Sometimes there'd be a line of 4 kids, but it was time for us to go.

Marie: I like kids to not spend their time waiting and waiting- so brainstorming ideas like “Do we need more of the in-demand tool? What feels fair?” It would be a great next-day meeting topic: “It was hard yesterday with the _____. Let’s make a plan so everyone who wants to use the _____ gets a turn to do so today.”

Lulu: Yes, I love this! Group idea generating usually turns out some great solutions and is so empowering for the kids! At the end of the day, it can be really hard to see the waiting child end the play period without getting their turn in the moment but can be a real opportunity for executive function practice. I'm so happy about our toolbox of support ideas. I think, from my experience, more often than not, the person next in line usually gets a turn after a few minutes, and the waiting practice can be as valuable (or more?) than the Getting a Turn Very Soon. I'd love to use this as a focus of my documentation, just to help myself understand if my perception matches up to reality. Also, I'm envisioning the Outlast Wheelbarrow (one of the new materials waiting for us at Tigerlily proper) being a thing we might get lots of practice with on this! :)

Marie: Say more about how not getting to have a turn benefits the child.

Lulu: Some nuance here: Not saying that not getting to have a turn benefits the child. That would be hurtful, I think. But Yes saying that the Practice of Waiting (or Practice of Managing Disappointment when your turn doesn't happen as soon as expected) benefits the child, I think, specifically in the areas of Executive Function skill building (adaptable thinking, planning, self-monitoring, self-control / impulse control, working memory, time management, and organization). For me, my goal would be that the waiting child, in time, gets a turn, utilizing all the tools we have in place—but not at the expense of forcing an ending of a turn for someone else before they are ready. I can see trust building by ensuring that someone gets to have a turn, but I can also see trust building by ensuring autonomy and agency for a child to decide when they're done (if they are enjoying a material safely). My plan is to pay attention to how Turn Taking plays out in the coming weeks, and report back!

Marie: Yes, I think the wheelbarrow will teach us lots! :)

 
Lulu Bautista and Marie Catrett  |  Tigerlily Preschool

Imagine new possibilities

We always jump at the chance to publish Marie Catrett's lovely Reggio Emilia–style documentation of her young students’ learning. Here’s the latest, a photo and video essay on the many uses the children have found for their classroom’s light table. Marie directs Tigerlily Preschool in South Austin.
 

Agency is the idea that when we act, and act strategically, we effect change upon our environment. Babies are agentive, reaching out into the world, building knowledge, ability, and strength from their own active experience without a negative internal voice suggesting otherwise. “I can’t” comes later when people tell children they are too small, what they want to do is too dangerous, or there’s not enough time to allow for all that pokey trying. But children need thoughtful adults to hold the space for them to explore with the trust and awareness of their own inner judgment. Do what feels right for you in your own body, I tell a child who’s thinking about whether to make the swing go higher. Hold tight with both hands (my rule!), but do what feels right to you.

In my teaching I observe children to understand them better and strive to be a supportive presence that honors the children’s agency.

When things get stuck, I might state what I see: Hmmm, I can’t let you push him, but tell me about what’s not working. This play isn’t working yet, but I know we can figure this out. Then I ask questions. What do you think? How else could you ______? Can you think of another way to _____? How could we find out? And my favorite question for a child who has just made something interesting happen is how did you do that? The response will be wonderfully agentive: Well, first I did this, and then I did that, and then . . . . Wow!

We want children to have a strong sense of agency and from that imagine new possibilities.

The key is curiosity, and it is curiosity, not answers, that we model. As we seek to know more about a child, we demonstrate the acts of observing, listening, questioning and wondering. When we are curious about a child’s words and our responses to those words, the child feels respected. The child is respected. ‘What are the ideas I have that are so interesting? I must be somebody with good ideas.’
—Vivian Paley

When thoughtfully providing children with a new experience to support their continued work, it seems to me that I have a responsibility to provide an introduction that expands rather than limits possibilities. Provide a child with quality materials and give her time to make her own discoveries—the delight of “Look what I just did!” I’ve thought about this idea quite a bit this semester as my children have gotten to know the new light table in our classroom.  

A piece of Reggio equipment that we see in each of their classrooms excited the imagination of North Americans. But the light table, after its purchase, is often misunderstood and underutilized. Think of the light table as a tool that will work independently to teach the children about translucency and opacity. They can do anything on the light table that they might do on any other table. Leave it to the children to figure out what the table is for! It’s safe for them to use either wet or dry media on the table—collage, paint, markers or to build with Legos—or anything. You can even eat there. Note the many uses the children invent. Left to their own exploration, they’ll come to discover what’s light permeable and what isn’t. Our strong Image of the Child and our commitment to children’s agency alert us to back off from providing familiar materials so that children can make their own discoveries.
—Seeing Young Children with New Eyes: What We’ve Learned from Reggio Emilia about Children and Ourselves by Sydney Gurewitz Clemens and Leslie Gleim

Here are some of the uses the children have discovered for their light table:
 

This afternoon the light table became a place to do clay. Viviana did some very fun flat faces, carving through the clay so the light illuminates the features. Stella, busy with flat-making for pizza, gets connected with a rolling pin to see if that tool helps her take clay where she wants it to go.
8/24/15
 

Shivani (proudly): Guys! Look at the table!
Macky (proudly): It’s a parking lot.
Stella (admiringly): Look at all these squares.
9/2/15
 

Stella tells me she’s not happy with the way she’s making the letter S. I can give you something to help, I say, using a pencil to make a row of S's. She gets a marker and traces over her page of practice S’s. Actually she gets many markers and does each S in a different color. Writing “rainbow” has become a thing with the group.
Stella: That S is my best one.
9/10/15
 

Always looking to help the kids find more uses for their light table, this morning I left a basket of very pretty leaves out close by, hoping somebody might notice and combine the leaves with our fantastic light source. Kids did notice the leaves. Viviana decides she’ll draw them at the light table (hooray!) and she begins. Pretty soon somebody thinks that they wish there were flowers for drawing too. I get down the rest of the arrangement, a wonderful assortment of floral shapes and textures. I tell the children that if they see a flower they’d like to draw, they can each take one out of the vase at a time for looking at more closely. One child is pretty certain there’s only one way to draw a flower, making four small circles close together in what looks like a symbolic representation of flower. This is how you do it, she insists, I know because my babysitter taught me. The children consider this. Is there only one way to make a flower?
Marie (gently): I see that is one way to make one kind of flower. And you can do that. And you know what else, let’s look closely at the flowers kids wanted on the light table for drawing because . . . hmmm  . . . oh, I am seeing so many different shapes, I wonder about other ways to make flowers, too?
There is talk about making different kinds of flowers.
Shivani: Look at this flower!
Stella: I like this. I like this drawing flowers.
9/28/15
 

I am delighted with the latest kid-invented use for our light table. The back story is that in tidying my home I recently came across several spatulas and a big spoon, thought these kitchen items might appeal to the children in the dress-up/pretend-play collection, and added them in. About a week ago kids began making up a game where you push a whiffle ball across the room using the spatulas. This has been called "doing golf." Today the golf game had an entirely new setup on top of the light table, and I see much to admire in the children’s play: inventive use of the table, including making fine use of the on/off switch; "winning" is handled and made inclusive by the children; Viviana’s suggestion that they pause the game to make time to practice; their clear delight with themselves!
10/16/15
 

We’re continuing to take our time with paper and exploring collage making. I had put out a bin of tissue paper, hoping to encourage more discovery of what kids can do with tissue paper after one child noticed that the thin paper could be squeezed, rolled, and shaped much like our clay. Today kids could keep exploring tissue paper on top of the light table. We can crumple, fold, roll, and tear the paper so far. Viviana combined several pieces and announced she’d made a flower, see?
10/21/15
 

Stella (carefully covering every bit of the paper with paint, then using a toothpick to inscribe her name): I made the whole world.
10/26/15
 

Viviana (working with wire after her baby brother’s birth): Come look at the baby I made.
11/5/15
 

Marie Catrett