Wonder Science 10:30 Class

I am part of a Reggio-Inspired teacher's list serv. It's full of wonderful dialogue and discourse discussing the interpretation of the schools of Reggio-Emilia, Italy. The following story was submitted by a fellow list-serv member who is a professor. This is an observation taken from one of his teachers in his college's Early Childhood Education program.

This is told from the point of view of a teacher, but I think it can be meaningful for you to consider how we, parents, get caught up in the day-to-day routines of life and how easy it is to miss these ordinary but extraordinary moments with our children!

Isabelle

Several weeks ago I was in the nap room in the process of trying to get
children to sleep. There are windows high up that let a small amount of
light on the sides of the window shades. We try to move the cots into the
darker areas of this large room.

As I sat by one child, I observed from across the room that Isabelle was
reaching up from her cot to touch the shaft of light that fell from the
window. There were dust motes floating in the light that she was attempting
to catch. It made me smile to see her fascination with the light. I sat by
her later until she fell asleep.

Isabelle had not been a child that I felt particularly close to. Her speech
is difficult to understand and she often copies what others do. I have had
very little indication of her internal thought process. Seeing her
captivated by the tiny swirling dots in the light made me feel a connection
with her that I hadn't felt before.

I observed her on subsequent sunny days to see if she would again notice the
light shafts. She was the only child that took delight in this. One day she
began to try to trap the light in her cupped hands. She brought her hands to
her mouth. She was eating sunbeams!

As I watched her, another teacher walked by Isabelle, unaware of the
fantastical world that she inhabited. The teacher roughly pushed her hands
down and told her to go to sleep. I wanted to cry. I felt that I was the one
who got shut down. I have not seen her eat sunbeams since that day.

I know it could have been me that was the unobservant teacher. We can do so
much harm in the very slight things we do without even knowing, and we can
greatly impact lives for the good when we notice and are aware.

Lisa

J. in the first Science class 9 weeks earlier.

She observes the worm and you can clearly see some hesitance in her approach to the worm.

This was as close as she got during that first class.

9 weeks later, J., proudly and without any hesitation approaches the worm and picks him up in her hands. Now they are old friends, and now deeper investigations begin to emerge.

Listening...

I often talk about listening to children. How can we better listen to them? What understanding will we gain when we really, listen to what they might be trying to say, either verbally or nonverbally?

What's wonderful is when we can listen and accept that we don't have to supply information or answers to our children. We can wonder with them and ask them questions and see how it furthers their investigations.

I find it very helpful when a parent can invite me into their child's questions and investigations. Then we can document the experience beginning to end. If my class could be longer, I would slow this process down even further. I am going to insert my reflections on this experience in red, so that you can see how I am rethinking this situation.

J.'s mom approached me with a question J. had concerning the worms. J. wanted to put the worms in the sand and observe what might happen. Mom was quick to understand the safety concerns (for the worms) if we place them into the sandbox. However, she (Mom) has become very experienced with inquiry based learning and did not shut the door on J.'s curiosity. She suggested J. put some sand into a smaller container where the worms would be safe but J. would still be free to observe the worm's reaction. Here is a great opportunity to slow down the process and sit down with J. and question her before she begins her investigation. We might ask her: "J. what do you think will happen when you put the worms into the sand?" "How is that different from what you see the worms do in the dirt?"

I am wondering what J. is trying to understand. Is she attempting to learn about what may or may not make a worm happy? If so, we might ask, "J., how do you know a worm is happy?"

Or could she be interested in seeing the worm dig through different mediums?

In a true, reggio-inspired classroom, we would take the time to ask these questions and also get a group of children (maybe 2 others) to take notice of the investigation, offer their opinions. Perhaps even draw a picture of what they envision.

J. gets her container and shovel.

A simple directive from mom to go ahead and empty the sand into the container.

I find this to be a smart suggestion because spilling the sand all over the floor will distract from the investigation. Part of our job, as the co-constructor and adult, is to be the child's memory and help keep distractions to a minimum.

J. has her bowl filled with the sand and is ready to add the worms.
A tape recorder or Mom writing down J.'s words here would have provided much insight on what J. understands about her investigation.

Follow-up questions for J.:

What happened when you put the worm into the sand?

Did he like it?

Did he do what you thought he would do?

What do you think he prefers, the dirt or sand?

What other surfaces do you think the worm might like to explore?