Changing the World One Preschool at a Time

Polar bear cubs stay with their mothers until they're two and half years old. Dolphin calves need maternal care for 2-3 years. Orangutan infants continue nursing for six years, the longest period of dependence of any species other than humans.

For us, this period during which our survival depends on care and attention from adults is, at minimum 10 years, although in modern society we set the legal age at 18, and for many of us, it extends even longer. 

Some scientists theorize that this is because our species has so much to learn in order to function, but I'm suspicious of that. One of our great prejudices is that we are somehow more intelligent, or that human social life is so much more complex than other species. The more I learn about other species, however -- not just mammals, but reptiles, birds, mollusks, and even plants -- the more I'm convinced that there is no hierarchy when it comes to intelligence or social complexity.

Another theory is that we have a longer period of dependence because we have longer lives: the process of growing up is just stretched out proportionally because we're going to, on average, live seven or eight decades. And it's true that, say, orangutans tend to only live to be 50, but elephants have a similar lifespan to humans and their young only have a 2-3 year period of dependence. There are several species that live for hundreds of years (whales, sharks, clams) with much shorter childhoods, while there are many more that can live for thousands of years (trees, sponges, fungi) with no childhood to speak of. There's even a jellyfish that is biologically immortal, reverting to its polyp state once it reproduces in order to do it all over again. Most of the longest lived species actually have no apparent period of dependence.

Our own period of dependence hasn't always been as long as we make it today. Our daughter was bat mitzvahed at 13, which is the traditional Jewish age of adulthood. Indeed, throughout traditional cultures, 12 or 13 is a common marker between childhood and adulthood, although few of us would think it wise to really stick to that in our modern world. There's no reason that children this age wouldn't be capable of functioning as adults, except for the fact that modern human culture is simply too dangerous to leave them on their own. There are just too many broken adults who want to prey on them. Other species don't have to worry about the predator from within. 

On the other hand, looked at another way, in other long-lived social species, like elephants, whales, and orangutans, one could argue that the period of dependence is never over. They rally to one another's aid throughout their lives. They protect, feed, and care for one another, not because they are parents, but because it's the most important thing their species does: care for one another.

I'm going to assert (without complete knowledge) that humans are the only social species that has forgotten that. As psychologist and researcher Alison Gopnik says, caring for the young is the principle purpose of every civilization. I would extend that to all people, not just the young. And with humans, as with other species, even those with relatively short lifespans, the responsibility is too much for one or two adults. It truly does, as the African proverb has it, "take a village to raise a child."

Over the past couple of centuries, humans, and especially those of us living in Eurocentric cultures have moved young children farther and farther from the center of society, until we today find them growing up in virtual isolation from the rest of the world. From a young age, we wall them off into "pink collar ghettos" to spend their days in crowds of like-aged colleagues in the care of professional caretakers and educators. And because most people outside those walls have little or no regular interaction with young people, their needs are rarely considered. Indeed, young children are forbidden or frowned upon in much of the modern world. As a corrective for this, I've always been an advocate for "place based learning," which means taking children out into their world: walking the neighborhood, visiting local businesses and institutions, traveling around by bus and other forms of mass transit.

I'm always struck by how work-a-day adults react to finding children in their lives. Make no mistake, many are delighted to suddenly find themselves, say, surrounded by excited four-year-olds on their morning commute. But many more move away. They draw their shoulders to their ears and scowl in judgement. These children, these young humans, these fellow humans, are viewed as loud, disgusting, ignorant intruders.

I can't help but compare this situation to that of other "outsider" populations who have historically been ghettoized. They have a right to exist, just not where I am. Am I exaggerating? Maybe a little, but it's something we need to think about. When we isolate children from society, we are likewise isolating society from children, which means we are robbing ourselves of the caring-and-being-cared-for give-and-take that characterizes every other long-lived animal culture. I can think of no better explanation for the breakdown of our "village." I can think of no better explanation for the intensity of our political divisions, for school shootings, for our mental health crisis, for the general rudeness and incivility that is making cynics of us all.

On one preschool field trip, we were transferring onto Seattle's Link Light Rail at the Westlake station in the heart of downtown, a place where children are rare during the workweek. As we entered the station, a man stood leaning against a wall smoking a cigarette. One of the kids said, loudly enough for the man to hear, "Look Teacher Tom, that man is making a bad choice!" The smoker stopped mid-puff, dropped his cigarette onto the pavement, and crushed it out with his heel, saying, "You're right. It is a bad choice." And then, when he noticed the kids were all now peering at the butt he'd dropped, he picked it up and tossed it in a trash can. Then the man said, "Thank you."

I've always known that being with young children makes me a better person, if only because I feel compelled to role model the behaviors that I want them to see as normal. I imagine that this man, in the presence of children, found it not just easier, but imperative to make "good choices."

Being in the company of young children tends to make adults more creative, more likely to try new things, more accepting of others, more playful, and less selfish. These are all things we could use more of in the world. This too is part of the power of the village.

We might not be able to change the world, but we can, today, begin changing it for the children in our care by opening the doors of our "ghettos." By both getting out there in the world and also by bringing others into our settings, especially their parents and extended families. Our world may never be the village we need, but our preschools can be exactly that, communities based on the knowledge of every other long-lived species: it takes a village. 

It might sound like a stretch, it might sound neigh impossible to engage the parents of the children we teach in this way, but not only do I know it's possible, I know it's the only antidote to cynicism. It takes a village to raise a child. It also takes children to raise a village. 

If this sounds like something you want to pursue more deeply, consider registering for my 6-week course, The Empowered Educator: Partnering with Parents (see below). Perhaps we can change the world on preschool at a time.

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If you're interested in learning about what you can do, right now, to create a learning village that parents will wholeheartedly support, I've developed this 6-part course called The Empowered Educator: Partnering With Parents. As preschool educators, we don't just educate children, but their families as well. For the over 20 years, I've worked in a place that puts the tri-cornered relationship of child-parent-educator at the center, and over that time I've learned a great deal about how to work with families to create the kind of village every child needs and deserves. How would it be to have parents show up as allies? Click this link to register and to learn more. Discounts are available for groups.

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