So Katz quickly cut to the chase: "We are doing earlier and earlier what we shouldn't do later." She was referring to our national push for school "readiness," which so often these days looks like developmentally INappropriate practice in the classroom. Many early childhood programs focus on getting kids to recognize the alphabet and their numbers with rote practice or meaningless activities. Katz cited our preschool addiction to doing the calendar at Group Time (we don't do this at Dodge, by the way). Typically, kids sit and count through a large-format 2-dimensional calendar. "Why?" asked Katz. "What do you need a calendar for, unless you're paying bills or worried about being pregnant." Katz's point is that young children, in fact all children, need to engage in mindful interactions and activities. "Don't underestimate children intellectually. We overestimate them academically." Katz implores all of us to consider how we help young children develop intellect. In other words, how do we help children inquire, ask questions, make guesses and observe carefully. Well, Katz rightfully declares that, "kids should master academic skills in service of their project or inquiry." In other words, provide real, concrete experiences, and the academic (and social and emotional) skills will, out of necessity, follow. What does this look like in practice?
Well, take a look at what happens around Dodge. Lively, imaginative and developmentally appropriate practice is happening everywhere:
I'll toot our Nature Preschool horn. In my classroom, we have engaged in an on-going color-mixing project. Way back in the early days of autumn, children noticed that the "palette" of surrounding flora was changing dramatically. On hikes, leaves, flowers, pine cones and stones all found their way into pockets, then they found their way out of pockets back in the classroom. We set out jars and baskets for the burgeoning "collections." Children examined items of interest, employing magnifiers, measuring tapes, tracing and sketching things on paper, or in their journals, talking about objects and even asking to label them: How do you write, "bone?" Interesting stuff is attractive, and inquiry is contagious. Pretty soon peers were attracting peers to their various little projects. "How did you trace that?" "How did you write that?" "Can I do it too?" And then somebody wanted to color in a bone shape that she had traced, but, "Hey!" she said, "We don't have any Bone color paint." Jugs of tempera where hauled to the table, little jars and brushes were scrounged up and before we knew it, half a dozen children were engaged in the big messy project of mixing their own paint colors. Remember, this was a task with a purpose. Other objects of interest were dragged to the Art Studio table--pine cones, gourds, leaves--and soon we had a whole collection of paint. Teachers found an unused journal notebook and, with their help, children began to sample the colors as quickly as they made them. The colors acquired names and our "Spruce Room Color Palette" was born.
This is a good story of developmentally appropriate practice and it could end here. But it doesn't. A child asked to take the palette out on a hike. His self-proclaimed goal was to find other things out on our walk that might match our colors. So out we went, with children scrambling to get hold of the palette and hold their own samples up to sumac and sunflowers and clouds and dirt. They chattered and wondered and ran and asked ceaseless questions, "What do you call this?" "Aster." "What's this color called again?" "Cloud Purple." "Cloud Purple could be Aster Purple." Teachers and students took photos of asters and other interesting colored things. Permission was granted to cut a spray of asters and take them back to the Art Studio. Aster Purple was mixed afresh, compared to Cloud Purple, and then put to use painting the little spray of Asters that now sat at the center of the art table.
During all of this activity, children spoke to each other and teachers, asking questions in order to get things done. Language. Social skills. Petals were counted on flowers. Math. Kids ran to keep up or stooped and bent to scissor cuttings of flowers or to get a closer look at stuff. Large muscle, fine motor, observation, attention. Back inside, children found brushes, mixed paint, made false starts and tried again and again to get colors just right. Autonomy, confidence, attention span, hypothetical thinking. They talked through it all, sharing ideas, laughter and frustration. They worked to share tools and to take turns. More social skills. Surely, this is the type of thing Katz has in mind when she refers to "meaningful inquiry."
Just imagine what happens when the middle school kids at Garlough (our environmental magnet sister school across the street), venture out to gather seed in the prairie? What happens when the Dodge Summer Camp kids work to build fires, without a match ( my eight-year-olds are Fire Camp grads, much to grandma's dismay). What happens when the school-agers compete to build forts or find the most microorganisms in the pond? Meaningful inquiry happens. And a whole slew of academic, social and emotional skills are developed in service of that real, project-based learning.
But Dodge may be one of the too few exceptions to the rule of "alignment." In the classroom or out, kids need real, hands-on concrete experiences if they are to grow up to be the scientists, creative thinkers and innovators we will all rely on in the future. Katz asked the crowd of educators, with great agitation, "Why don't we want school to be more interesting?"
The wonder shouldn't end beyond Dodge. Let's Dodgify middle school, junior high and high school. Let's get in line to advocate for developmentally appropriate, project-based and truly exciting learning.
To learn more about Dr. Katz and developmentally appropriate and exciting learning visit the Catalyst Links.
Yes! Let's Dogify public schools! LOVE IT! Also, don't forget about the ever important math skills of proportion that are used in mixing paint.
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