Generosity of Spirit

by Kim Atkinson

“I am constantly blown away by the generous spirit of children!”

That’s what Sarah said as she dropped into a chair at the café where we had met to have coffee and talk about the preschools where we are both early childhood educators (ECEs).

Sarah described how a group of three- and four-year-old children were crowded into the train on the preschool playground. They all wanted to hold the one-and-only steering wheel and arguments were beginning to escalate. Sarah watched closely as one boy who spoke little English managed to make himself understood and lead everyone to a solution. All the children understood this boy’s gestures, facial expression and words, and each took a turn, then let the next child take theirs. Sarah had been heading over to assist, but stopped when she saw the concern and care this boy took to make sure all his friends got their turn.

Her proclamation over coffee got me thinking. I, too, have witnessed real generosity in children, but it’s not something we adults always acknowledge. We help kids learn to share, we mediate conflicts and intervene to make certain everyone gets a turn. We come up with solutions like “One more minute with the shovel and then it will be Bobby’s turn” and “You have to give Celia one of your buckets because you have two and she doesn’t have any!” All of these interventions are logical to us and we are trying to encourage empathy, a sense of fair play. But are we missing something when we impose our rules?

Play time is over in my four-year-old class and we are discussing who will clean up what. A group of boys has used every block in the block area, but when it comes to choosing clean-up jobs, they volunteer to clean up playdough, a pretty easy gig. I open my mouth to protest, ready to redirect them to the block mess. “Wait!” shouts a voice in my head, “What do the kids think?” So I ask. “These boys have made a big mess in the blocks. Shouldn’t they have to clean it up?” Rachel shakes her head. “No” she says “they should have a turn to clean up the playdough because they never get a turn.” All heads nod in agreement. Joey, who played in the house area, jumps up. “I’ll clean the blocks.” He is quickly joined by three more children who efficiently put away all the blocks. Clearly I’m the one who doesn’t know about fair play.

My colleague Kim agrees that children are inherently generous.

“I marvel constantly at the many small kindnesses that I see amongst the children,” she says. “I try to convey my own value in their virtuous natures by commenting on the daily acts of generosity that I see. Still, I know the children act with generosity for reasons other than needing my approval. It is who they are.”

Kim recalls one instance when a group of children sat at a table with trays of beads and thread. Nadine had a pile of heart beads in front of her, clearly the most interesting and rare kind of bead in the trays. She strung them all onto her thread, and then looked at the other children and said “I need more heart beads.” All the kids at the table immediately stopped their beading. They searched through their trays looking for heart beads and as they found them, they cheerfully passed them to Nadine. For the next 20 minutes the children continued to sort and string beads. And every child passed every heart bead to Nadine.

A couple of years ago, Kim says she would have worried about the children sharing resources fairly. “I would have felt compelled to count out those heart beads and share them equally amongst the children. I would have asked Nadine to think of the other children. However, I have learned that the children have their own sense of fairness which is so much wiser than mine and if I can listen quietly, they will often work out their own solutions which are different from mine.”

According to Piaget’s stages of cognitive development, egocentrism of the young child leads them to believe that everyone thinks as they do, and that the whole world shares their feelings and desires. In other words, they are not capable of seeing another’s point of view. Our society has largely adopted this as truth, which leaves us with the task of “teaching” empathy. Perhaps we just don’t watch closely enough.

Levi is in the black ride ’em truck and Sophia wants in too. There is really only space for one but with stunning agility she manages to squeeze herself and her doll beside Levi, all the while saying “ I’d like a turn in this truck.” Levi looks at her calmly as he gets pushed farther and farther to one side. Once she’s in Sophia says, “Well, it’s a bit squishy in here. One of us should go to the train ’cause it has some black on it too.” Levi ponders this quietly. Sophia continues, “We just have to decide which one.” They sit quietly for a while, squeezed and uncomfortable. Suddenly Levi hops out and goes to the train.

We adults feel a great sense of responsibility to make sure children are moral, fair and kind. But in our efforts to instill these qualities we sometimes fail to acknowledge the kindness and sense of fairness already within them. The trick is that their version of kind and fair might not be exactly the same as ours.

As parents and caregivers, we do need to step in to help resolve conflicts and problems. But perhaps our role could shift. Perhaps rather than dictating rules and solutions, we could listen. We could ask questions, think together, and together propose possible solutions. And perhaps be more open to the idea that the colour of the train and the truck could be the determining factor in resolving the problem.

Generosity of spirit is there in children. And it transcends our ideas of fair play and sharing. We see it in their dramatic play where ideas and plots are modified to include the new tiger that knocked on the door, or the new sister that needs all the blankets. We see it when two children have a great battle, then moments later are playing happily together. We see it when they include someone in play that has hurt them time and again. And we see it in their belief in us.

I am walking toward our year-end preschool picnic, salad bowl and blanket in hand. Walking towards me is a family that has been involved in the preschool for years with their two older children, and are now back with their third child, Alice. Though I know the family well, I don’t know two-year-old Alice, having met her only briefly as a baby. Suddenly Alice sees me, breaks away from her family and runs down the sidewalk, her arms outstretched. I’m not sure where she’s going, because, really, she can’t be coming to me! Nonetheless I put down my bowl and blanket and kneel down. Indeed Alice is coming to me, she throws her arms around my neck, then looks steadily into my eyes and says, “ I love you.”

I am dumbfounded. Alice has accepted me before she even knows me. The generous spirit of children can be overwhelming.

Kim Atkinson is the mother of two boys and an Early Childhood Educator at Lansdowne Co-op Preschool.