My Early Childhood Metaphor
It all begins with an idea.
In my years of working with young children, I‘ve come to realize something: When they first start school, every child arrives with an invisible bag. Inside are simple but quite powerful things : their own ways of expressing emotions, clear likes and dislikes, instincts, and raw, unfiltered selves which are untouched by social expectations.
Children begin unpacking this bag in the little society we call school. They try things out. They cry when things don’t go their way. They grab a toy because they want to play or attract attention. But slowly, social skills begin to seep in. An impulsive grab turns into, “Can I play with you?” A meltdown becomes, “Let me try one step at a time.”
Some children come with routines—emotional scripts they know will make the grown-ups react a certain way. They throw a tantrum, knowing that it usually works. But school is a new kind of space. And when those old routines don’t get the same results, the child begins something new : I need a different way to connect. A different way to express what I want. This moment, I believe, is the very point where a learning spark is ignited.
Early childhood education, to me, is about helping children unpack what they already carry and slowly translate it into the language of community. Our role as a teacher isn’t to rush or fix, but to give them a safe space to open that bag, to look inside without fear, and to gently guide them as they make sense of what they find.
What I find most beautiful in this work is catching those very moments — facilitating, supporting, and walking alongside children as they grow a little more each time. That, to me, is where the magic truly begins.