Through the Eyes of a Child

by Kim Atkinson

Jeremy is running. His arms swoop up and down and his fingers are spread. He is making electronic-type noises and is systematically bashing into every other three-year-old on the playground. He leaves behind him a trail of children looking surprised and bewildered.

Four-year-old Sally and Alexa bustle around the dramatic play area, setting out dishes, putting wooden food on plates and propping up dolls in highchairs. As they clang spoons and pots on the stove, Bea walks in and sits at the table. Sally glances at Bea and in a loud voice says to Alexa, “We’re the only moms, right? No one else can play here, right? You’re not allowed here, Bea.”

Yikes! As parents and educators we often witness scenarios like this. How to react?

Our first response is likely emotional and comes from deep in our gut. But those emotions surging from the deep will be different for all of us. If you are the parent of the “wronged” child, you will likely view this differently than if you are the parent of the “hurtful” child. You may recall an instance where you excluded someone or were excluded yourself or you might have been the brunt of physical aggression. Your values, your beliefs about children, your culture and your past experience will all influence how you view these situations. And now the kicker: how you view the situation will influence how you deal with it.

So what to do with the basher and the excluder? For the moment, nothing. Keep your hands in your pockets and your mouth clenched shut and give yourself a quick self-reflection checklist: How am I reacting to this? Why is that? Is my reaction really about the children, or is it more about me?

Now, with your hands still in your pocket and your mouth still clenched, ask yourself these questions: What might be going on inside the mind of the child? What might she be trying to achieve?

Checking in with Jeremy the basher revealed that he was completely absorbed in a complex fantastical story in which he was a spaceship that needed to touch down on all the planets. When it was pointed out to him that those planets were in fact children and they were being hurt, Jeremy was baffled. He had not intended to hurt them; in his mind they were merely props.

Closer observation of Sally in the house area told a story of emerging friendships. Sally had been wanting to play with Alexa for days, trying hard to engage her. Today it had worked and Sally was thrilled. By entering the play area, Bea threatened the possibility of friendship and Sally was desperate to save it.

Early Childhood Educator and author Deb Curtis puts it succinctly when she says “Meet up with children’s minds, not their behaviour.” When we put aside our initial gut reaction to a behaviour and open our minds to the child’s perspective, we open possibilities of knowing that child in a more authentic way.

At the hand washing tub three-year-old Kayla is washing paint off her fingers, swirling her hands through the warm soapy water. A moment later Jayden joins her, and they dip a paper towel gingerly into the bubbles. When I glance over again Kayla and Jayden are scrubbing the wall with dripping paper towels. Soap bubbles stream down the wall and puddle on the floor. The two girls are concentrating, and they methodically apply bubbles to the wall over and over.

While the behaviour of putting water all over the wall might not be desirable, recognizing what might be going on in the minds of the girls isn’t too hard. We can imagine the delight of discovering bubbles, watching them reflect the light and then pop, the texture of wet paper towels, the beauty of cascading water, the joy of a companion.

Pausing to look beyond behaviour brings with it a new appreciation for the complex thinking of children. Putting aside our adult perspective and spending some time in careful observation or engaging in thoughtful dialogue (in which you listen more than talk) can transform how you see a child.

Scissors are common in every preschool program and in the bustle of my day I pay them scant attention (unless I notice them hovering near an extended clump of hair). But one day I sat down with my camera and took photos of three-year-olds grappling with paper and the mechanics of making scissors cut. Looking at the pictures later I saw so much more than I expected. The children were clearly not “just playing.” They were entirely focused, concentrating on all the intricacies of the task: Which fingers go in which holes? Once the blades are open, how do you close them? Does it work to have the your palm up? Or down? How do you keep the paper between the blades? Their faces are serious, intent.

A remarkable thing happens when you begin “meeting children’s minds.” Ordinary moments of children’s play suddenly become fascinating. Painting becomes an investigation of texture, colour, quantity and consistency. Zooming cars on the floor becomes an experiment with speed and a dramatic narrative. Even the inevitable conflicts show us how a child is thinking, provided we are ready to listen.

Putting aside our adult agenda, our emotional gut reactions, our somewhat rigid perspective of what is “right,” and stopping for a moment to consider the child’s perspective can change the way we see children. If we can think about what a child is trying to achieve, how she might be thinking, we can respond in a way that highlights the strengths of that child.

Flying a spaceship is exhilarating, making a new friend feels wonderful, and experiencing bubbles is a beautiful thing. It’s all about perspective.

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