- Tom Bedard
- Early childhood education has been my life for over 30 years. I have taught all age groups from infants to 5-year-olds. I was a director for five years in the 1980s, but I returned to the classroom 22 years ago. My passion is watching the ways children explore and discover their world. In the classroom, everything starts with the reciprocal relationships between adults and children and between the children themselves. With that in mind, I plan and set up activities. But that is just the beginning. What actually happens is a flow that includes my efforts to invite, respond and support children's interface with those activities and with others in the room. Oh yeh, and along the way, the children change the activities to suit their own inventiveness and creativity. Now the processes become reciprocal with the children doing the inviting, responding and supporting. Young children are the best learners and teachers. I am truly fortunate to be a part of their journey.
Saturday, November 15, 2014
I write almost exclusively about play around the sand and water table. Last week, though, I wrote about a structure I set up in the large muscle area of my classroom. I called it the Big Box Fort.
This was an installation that started off as three boxes but over the course of three weeks expanded to include five boxes and a periscope.
There was one particular play scenario associated with this structure that totally surprised me. One child took to crashing into the outside of Box 1 and said she was a tornado.
We live in the Midwest part of the United States and every year in the summer we hear about tornados. Tornado season, though, is over for us, so where does this scenario come from? It seems to come out of the blue, but if you work around children, you know they are always trying to make sense of their world. I asked her dad if he had any idea where her idea came from. He said he did not have a clue.
From the video, we do know that the child has an idea about what a tornado does: it crashes into structures and tries to knock them down. For her it is truly a full body experiment to crash against the wall of the box. For her it is about the power of her body against the box. But why does she become a tornado?
What is also surprising is that the children in the box pick up on the tornado scenario. Heads pop up yelling "tornado!" and "get out, it's a tornado!" And everyone knows to get into the boxes when the tornado is coming. That even includes the girl who is the tornado. She, too, reassumes her role as a person and scurries into the box to seek shelter from the tornado. (Did you notice, this is an all-girl, big-body play scenario?)
Surely there is a lot of drama as the children play "tornado." There is a lot of yelling and acting scared and hiding from the danger. Those are all elements that seem to make the play infectious. But why a tornado?
If it had something to do with the structure itself, I do not know. However, the tornado play continued the following week when the box structure was no longer in the large muscle area. Instead, the children---some of the same children and some new players---made up a new script for the tornado game. Interestingly enough, the girl who personified the original tornado was not part of this reconfigured group. This reconfigured group of children which now included both girls and boys decided to build a wall to keep out the tornado. They built the wall in the window with the window blocks.
This was all very serious work. One of the children even states that we have to get the wall built before the tornado destroys the whole world.
Just this morning at a conference I was attending in New York, I heard Lella Gandini say: "Nothing is banal to the eyes of a child." Surely this was important for this group of children. But why did this play scenario about a tornado stick? How did the play transform from someone embodying the tornado to a generalized, amorphous threat? And will it continue to have a life in the classroom?
Why the tornado?
Posted by Tom Bedard at 11/15/2014