Tuesday, June 09, 2026

It's Remarkable That We've Gotten it So Wrong

Young children do math for fun. Most of us, however, have been taught to misunderstand mathematics. We think it has to do with numbers and equations, but that's like mistaking a map for the actual terrain. A friend with a PhD in mathematics once told me that most of what he does is discover increasingly beautiful ways to pattern, organize, sequence, and group things.

In other words, when we see a child arrange blocks in a red-blue-red-blue pattern we see a child engaged in math. When children sort objects by color or shape or some other characteristic, they are doing math. When children discover a clapping pattern or identify an animal as belonging to a smaller category called "bugs," they are engaged in math. Math is one of the fundamental ways that humans make sense of a complex world. The numbers and equations are academic abstractions that help us communicate, explore, and solve specific problems, but when we center this aspect of math in the early years we rob it of its essential connection to the human experience. 

In other words, we tend to render it boring and meaningless, an academic exercise done for the purpose of grades or a teacher's approval.

Shakespeare is an other example of something profoundly beautiful that schools tend to render dull by treating it as an academic pursuit. I wasn't introduced to his work until high school where I was expected to read the script of Romeo and Juliet. I struggled through it, listened carefully to my teacher explain it, then managed to pass my test, but it was dull, dull, dull. When we complained, our teacher recommended we try reading it aloud, which helped to enliven it a bit. Finally, as a senior, a group of us were rewarded with a field trip to the Ashland Shakespearean Festival, where we were in the audience for several plays. I still struggled with it, but it was far from dull.

My daughter's experience with Shakespeare was quite different. At 8-years-old, she declared that she was going to grow up to be a Shakespearean actor, a pursuit that carried her through college. Her introduction to The Bard was through a summer camp in which the kids spent two weeks acting out scenes with an emphasis on fight choreography. She went on to spend the next several years performing in a series of Shakespearean plays through a youth program offered by the Seattle Shakespeare Company. She was never bored. Indeed, she became obsessed with the works of one of the greatest artists to ever live. I'll never forget arguing with her about something or other when she was 10. She settled matters by quoting Macbeth, a play in which she hadn't even yet performed. Shakespeare wasn't something for school or study, it had become intertwined with her life.

The works of Shakespeare, perhaps the most influential and enduring art in history, are meant for the stage. When we read them, they bore us. When we see them acted, they come alive. When we act them ourselves, we embody them. Schools, however, tend to do it backwards, just as they do with math: they start with the disembodied abstractions, then, some day, once most of the kids have long given up on Shakespeare, it's offered as an extracurricular activity that only "nerds" care about. It's as if we tried to teach art by making preschoolers start with years of tedium like horizontal line theory, only allowing them to paint a full canvas painting once they've worked their way through years of shape, color, and shading drills. Taught this way, everyone would hate painting.

But this is what normal schools do with everything. Academic instruction dehumanizes things that are essentially human. Academics instruction strips away the the natural motivations of beauty and relevance, replacing it with dry external rewards (like grades) and threats ("If you don't learn this, you'll never get into college."). It's a system that makes learning itself, perhaps the most inspiring thing any of us will ever do, into drudgery. 

As a boy, I played and watched a lot of baseball, a game that features a whole lot of statistics involving averages and relatively complex calculations. Long before I got to the academic version of averages and other statistics, I understood it because I'd been motivated to make sense of all those columns of numbers of the backs of baseball cards. In the same way my daughter was fully conversant with Shakespeare long before it was presented to her as an academic pursuit. This is the direction in which learning is meant to flow. We must first experience the terrain before we can comprehend the map. 

This is exactly the way play-based, or self-directed, learning works. We start with the beauty. We start with the relevance. We start with self-motivation; with life itself. We start with the full canvas painting, the patterns, the terrain, the comedy and tragedy. When learning starts with our natural curiosity about life itself, the educator's role becomes one of keeping up rather than cracking the whip. 

Learning is the easiest, most natural, and joyful thing in the world. It's remarkable that we've gotten it so wrong.

******


Books have a way of transforming us unlike any other media out there. Be it fiction or non-fiction, a books has the power to fully immerse us into a world in way that makes us come out the other side a changed -- and better -- person. I've put together this list of 16 books that have done that for me. They are intentionally not early childhood books, although each one has, in one way or another, profoundly transformed my work with young children. Maybe you'll find a few new ones here that will do the same for you. To download the list, click here.


I put a lot of time and effort into this blog. If you'd like to support me please consider a small contribution to the cause. Thank you!
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Monday, June 08, 2026

Little Boxes, All the Same


We sing . . . 

Little boxes on the hillside
Little boxes made of ticky tacky
Little boxes, little boxes, little boxes
All the same.

(I then pause to ask, "Are they all the same? Someone always answers, "No, they're different colors.")

(That's right!) There's a green one . . .
And a pink one . . .

And a blue one . . .

And a yellow one.
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

And the people in their houses
All go to the university . . .

And the all get put in boxes
Little boxes, all the same.

And there's doctors, and lawyers
And business executives
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

(Someone usually calls out, "They do all look the same! or "They're all red!")

And they all play on the golf course
And drink their martinis dry . . .

And the they all have pretty children
And the children go to school.

Then the children go to summer camp
And then to the university . . .

And they all get put in boxes . . .

And they all come out the same.

And they all go into business
Get married and raise a family . . .

And they all get put in boxes
Little boxes, all the same.

There's a green one . . .

And a pink one . . .

And a blue one . . .

And a yellow one.

And they all are made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

This is a variation on the song "Little Boxes, written and originally recorded by Malvina Reynolds, although I learned it through Pete Seeger. I like singing folk music with young children.

I don't expect the kids to understand the underlying message of this song, but I do hope that it will click for them in the future when they find themselves confronted with dilemma of little boxes, all the same. When we come to the end, someone usually wants to sing it again.

When the song is finally played out, we head out outside with our glue-paint (mostly glue with a little paint added) and made damn sure our own little boxes (empty mint tins, bottle caps, and whatever else we might pick up from the playground) are not the same. Indeed, we couldn't make them the same, even if we tried.







******


Books have a way of transforming us unlike any other media out there. Be it fiction or non-fiction, a books has the power to fully immerse us into a world in way that makes us come out the other side a changed -- and better -- person. I've put together this list of 16 books that have done that for me. They are intentionally not early childhood books, although each one has, in one way or another, profoundly transformed my work with young children. Maybe you'll find a few new ones here that will do the same for you. To download the list, click here.



I put a lot of time and effort into this blog. If you'd like to support me please consider a small contribution to the cause. Thank you!
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Friday, June 05, 2026

Watching Ravens, Contemplating Clouds, and Picking Dandelions IS Education

National Park Service
Ravens are found pretty much everywhere.
Their "success" has to do with their intelligence and adaptability, especially their capacity for working with other species.

Like humans, they are omnivores, although most of their diet is meat. They have been known to hunt smaller animals. They are also notorious nest raiders, making off with both eggs and hatchlings. But their preference is scavenging. If you live in an urban area, you see them around open dumpsters. The ravens in Seattle are well-known for frequenting parks on sunny days which is why you never leave a picnic lunch unattended.

In more recent times, ravens are thought to be nefarious pests. Their flocks are called "unkindnesses" in some places. But throughout most of history, humans have admired ravens. They feature in many mythologies as tricksters and emissaries of the gods. Their presence during a hunt was considered to be a good omen in many indigenous cultures.  

And that's not mere superstition. Ravens commonly hang out around hunters, especially wolves and humans, but also bears, big cats, and other predators. Of course, they're after the spoils, but they are more active than that. They're known for calling out (caw-caw) while "pointing" (wing dips) to indicate where choice prey is hiding. When predators are successful, ravens feast alongside them.

This is an example of one of the most beautiful aspects of nature: symbiotic relationships. Bluestreak cleaner wrasse is a small fish that sets up "cleaning stations" on coral reefs where larger fish queue up for cleaning. Oxpeckers in Africa eat the ticks and other parasites from the skin of large mammals. Antbirds follow columns of army ants in tropical forests feeding on the prey that escapes them. Historian Yuval Noah Harari, in his book Sapiens, makes the case that humans and wheat are in a symbiotic relationship in which the wheat provides us with food, while we, through mass farming, have made it one of the most populous grass species on the planet. In fact, he wonders who domesticated whom.

If you start thinking in this way, it's easy to see symbiosis throughout nature, at every level, involving every living thing. Hence a web of nature based on the principle of you-scratch-my-back-and-I'll-scratch-yours. It's cooperation and mutual benefit. Without the mutual benefit, if one side takes without giving, it becomes parasitism in which either the parasite destroys the host or the host destroys the parasite.

We rightfully worry about what all those screens are doing to this generation of children. I worry about what it's doing to all of us. In the US, Gen Z and younger adults spend, on average, less than five hours a week outdoors, with many avoiding the open sky altogether. Adults aren't much better. We're quickly losing our connection to the natural world, and with it our essential symbiotic relationships. When these ties are broken we suffer physically, emotionally, and psychologically, not just as individuals, but as a species.

Screens are not the disease, but rather the symptom. The real culprit is a society that is hostile to children spending time outdoors at all, let alone in natural spaces. Our schools are largely indoor projects. Inmates in high security prisons get more time outdoors than the average American school child. Our cities, neighborhoods, parks, and playgrounds all require adult supervision, which means that most children cannot choose to be outdoors, but rather must wait for their adults to be both willing and able. The adults can't handle the "begging," so we give them screens.

Increasingly, our role in nature is shifting from that of symbiosis to parasitism. Of course, we aren't capable of destroying the world, so that means the world will have to destroy us. It's a matter of urgency and survival that we return to nature as a species and the place to start is to ditch the screens and open the doors of our preschools. As a matter of public policy, our preschoolers should be spending at least half of their school days outdoors, preferable in actual nature, but at least playgrounds that are gardens, where the stuff of nature (trees, rocks, water) replace standard-issue manufactured equipment. It must be understood that watching ravens, contemplating clouds and picking dandelions is education for the survival of our species.

Children who are hooked on nature instead of screens will "demand" their elementary schools do the same. And from there, who knows what will happen.

******


Books have a way of transforming us unlike any other media out there. Be it fiction or non-fiction, a books has the power to fully immerse us into a world in way that makes us come out the other side a changed -- and better -- person. I've put together this list of 16 books that have done that for me. They are intentionally not early childhood books, although each one has, in one way or another, profoundly transformed my work with young children. Maybe you'll find a few new ones here that will do the same for you. To download the list, click here.


I put a lot of time and effort into this blog. If you'd like to support me please consider a small contribution to the cause. Thank you!
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Thursday, June 04, 2026

Making Meaning in the Company of Others

"The bad guys go in here." 

He was explaining his pastel drawing to me.

"Then they go around like this." 

He contorted his body to demonstrate.


"And this is the knife part." He pointed to a jagged pastel mark. "Sometimes they get stabbed, but sometimes they run away."

He and his buddies had spent the morning excitedly scribbling on both sides of architectural printouts that a parent had brought in from her office recycling bin. The drawing took far less time than the explanations. In this case, we were learning about the details of a bad guy trap.

"Then they fall off this part, into this hole. They can't get out because the sides are too slippery."


The process they had collectively developed was to declare your subject, say, a tornado, scribble frantically, sometimes using more than one color. The penultimate action was to crumple the paper into a ball before unfurling it, declaring, "This is my tornado." Then came the final step, which was a detailed explanation of what we were looking at. The boys were obviously making it up as they went along, working hard to both make sense of their scribble and entertain their friends. There were lots of knives, poop, underpants, fighting, blood, baddies, and goodies in these emergent stories.

Often there was even a question and answer aspect to the creative description. "What happens to the bad guy when he's trapped?" "Then he gets out and goes to jail."


Sometimes there were creative suggestions. "And then you put tigers in the hole!" "Yeah, and lions and snakes!"

These boys had been playing together for nearly three years. They had grown up together in our school, but this was the first time I'd seen them sit down en masse to make art. Usually, they were racing about in costumes or playing out their games with blocks. If any one of them had stopped by to make art, they had done so solo, as a way to take a break from their usual intensity.  

But today, these boys had come together to create worlds. From the randomness of scribbles and crumples, they were constructing meaning by combining what already knew with their imaginations and connections with others, making sense from senselessness. This is what the human mind has evolved to do: make meaning in the company of others.

******


Books have a way of transforming us unlike any other media out there. Be it fiction or non-fiction, a books has the power to fully immerse us into a world in way that makes us come out the other side a changed -- and better -- person. I've put together this list of 16 books that have done that for me. They are intentionally not early childhood books, although each one has, in one way or another, profoundly transformed my work with young children. Maybe you'll find a few new ones here that will do the same for you. To download the list, click here.


I put a lot of time and effort into this blog. If you'd like to support me please consider a small contribution to the cause. Thank you!
Bookmark and Share

Wednesday, June 03, 2026

Fight As If You're Right and Listen As If You're Wrong


Socrates is arguably the most famous teacher of all time, at least in Western culture. His Socratic Method is a type of argumentative dialog between individuals, usually a student and teacher, that involves asking and answering ever more probing and confrontational questions. Ideally, the goal of these "arguments" is not to persuade or to "win" but rather to move the conversation ever closer to truth or wisdom or knowledge.

Perhaps the most inspiring thing about Socrates as a philosopher and teacher was his consistent assertion that despite his reputation as "the wisest man in Athens" he himself knew nothing. His wisdom did not consist of certainty, but rather in questioning, which is to say to look at all things, even the most sacred, from all sides, and to know that there was always another perspective he had not considered. 

Modern schooling tends to take the opposite approach, at least when it comes to the early years in which knowledge is viewed as a collection of correct answers that the children must be able to repeat on command. Children who challenge the "authorized gods" (as Socrates put it), who question, who argue, are viewed as problems. They might be humored for a bit, but ultimately, if they don't conform, they are punished with poor grades, low test scores, and sometimes, if they persist in arguing, worse.

Intellectually, most of us agree with Socrates: "(T)he life that is unexamined is not worth living." But among the very first and most important lessons we teach our children in standard schools -- if they are to be "successful" -- is to not question the correct answers. And by no means are you to argue. 

The result of decades of this kind of schooling is that few of us know how to argue productively. Almost everyone I know confesses to being "conflict averse." Arguments make them uncomfortable. It's no wonder because arguing these days, especially over politics, but really anything of importance, tends to be fraught, so much so that many of us have given it up altogether. After all, we all know, going in, that we’re very unlikely to change anyone’s mind, so why risk the vitriol, anger, and even the threats of violence that seem to lie just under the surface.

The thing is, study after study shows that if the goal is to learn something new, to make better decisions, or to be innovative, then the best way to make that happen is for people to fight over ideas. As Stanford business school professor Robert Sutton says, if learning or creativity is the goal, then “People would fight as if they are right, and listen as if they are wrong.” In other words, winning or persuading has nothing to do with this kind of argument. And while the latest science demonstrates the power of intellectual conflict, Socrates and his famous method has been with us for centuries.

As a preschool teacher, I want the children I teach to know that it's not just their right, but their responsibility to question the authorized gods. I want them to know that the most important thing they can do is to ask questions, especially inconvenient ones. I want them to know that their questions deserve thoughtful, honest answers, even if that answer is "I don't know." And the only way this happens is for me to give up on the idea of correct answers.

******


Books have a way of transforming us unlike any other media out there. Be it fiction or non-fiction, a books has the power to fully immerse us into a world in way that makes us come out the other side a changed -- and better -- person. I've put together this list of 16 books that have done that for me. They are intentionally not early childhood books, although each one has, in one way or another, profoundly transformed my work with young children. Maybe you'll find a few new ones here that will do the same for you. To download the list, click here.



I put a lot of time and effort into this blog. If you'd like to support me please consider a small contribution to the cause. Thank you!
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Tuesday, June 02, 2026

"Comparison is the Thief of Joy"

I recently met a parent "in the wild," who, when she learned what I do for a living, began telling me why her son is perfectly normal. In other words, she, like many parents, had some doubts about it.

"Normal" is not a useful concept when it comes to human beings, and most especially young children. In recent decades, we've attempted replace it with the word "typical" -- as in neurotypical -- but in the minds of nervous parents I'm not sure there's much difference between the two.

Theodore Roosevelt once said, "Comparison is the thief of joy." Normal and typical are terms of comparison that run so deep in modern education that it can be hard to conceive of institutionalized learning without them. We grade and rank children, we expect them to meet or exceed arbitrary "standards" and "developmental milestones," we fret about reading above or below "grade level." Not so long ago, our youngest citizens weren't victims of these ham-fisted comparisons until well into elementary school, but today they are being analyzed and assessed from the moment they're born, always having hoops placed before them to prove they are "normal."

No wonder our children are so depressed, stressed, fragile, and joyless. The process of normalization in normal schools is crushing. It plays out as a relentless focus on each child's deficits, which means a search for ways in which they do not fully measure up. Oh sure, we celebrate those who exceed the standards, but when children are extraordinary in any way that the system does not measure, their unique traits are deemed to be challenging behaviors. Their extraordinariness is evidence of an inability to focus. Or a waste of time. They are then tutored, punished, pathologized, and even drugged in order to bring them in line with normal.

I've never met a normal or typical child. They are all extraordinary. This is not an empty platitude. I've spent my professional career refusing to engage in the violence of comparison. This is often frustrating to parents who have been brainwashed into worrying about how their kid measure up to normal, but when I'm asked to assess any child, I only talk about their superpowers. I talk about what spurs their curiosity and what sparks their joy. I delight in their quirks, eccentricities, and passions. This is my job: to figure out what gives them joy, then to do whatever I can to make it possible for them to be joyful. 

The flaw in a school system (or child rearing) based on normal is that the focus on deficits presumes there is some process or method by which we can somehow get all the kids to measure up, to toe the line, to be like everybody else. It defines "extraordinary" in a very narrow and, frankly, arbitrary range, which, of course, leaves most kids out.

Play-based preschool is the only educational method I know that fully embraces the extraordinary in every child. It should never be about comparison, but rather the joy of learning what it means for each child to come fully alive. 

******


Books have a way of transforming us unlike any other media out there. Be it fiction or non-fiction, a books has the power to fully immerse us into a world in way that makes us come out the other side a changed -- and better -- person. I've put together this list of 16 books that have done that for me. They are intentionally not early childhood books, although each one has, in one way or another, profoundly transformed my work with young children. Maybe you'll find a few new ones here that will do the same for you. To download the list, click here.


I put a lot of time and effort into this blog. If you'd like to support me please consider a small contribution to the cause. Thank you!
Bookmark and Share