Using Imagination and Building Positive Identity: What Color Do You Call Your Skin?

A new book in our classroom, Happy in Our Skin, brought a lot of excitement this past week as we continue to learn about how we get our skin color and what function skin serves for our body.  The book’s depiction of families with many different colors of skin gave us pause as everyone remembered the discussions we had around All the Colors We Are the previous week -- we talked about skin color as something everyone is born with and that we inherit from our parents, which they in turn have inherited from their ancestors.  We have discussed the role of melanin in protecting our skin from the sun, and about how the level of melanin activity in humans looks different in very hot, sunny places versus cooler, milder ones.  As we work with the children to understand the reasons behind different skin colors, we reinforce the idea that there is no "default" or "superior" skin color -- everyone's skin has an incredibly important job to encase and protect us and it is unique to each of us, based on who is in our family and where we are from geographically. 

While reading Happy in Our Skin, we paused as a group and invited everyone to describe their own skin using any words that came to mind.  There were many exuberant shouts of “Mango!” “Banana!” “Chocolate!”  Some took a moment to consider before offering their ideas, while others seemed ready with spontaneous labels that felt exciting to suggest.  As everyone shared words enthusiastically, many children added to their list of descriptors, repeating two or three words that felt especially suiting to them.  

We truly enjoyed this discussion that ultimately felt like a celebration of everyone’s skin and identity.  As we talked, I was struck by how excited everyone was to think of their own skin as something unique to themselves, and something that they have the power to describe. No one corrected each other when a child "mislabeled" their skin -- everyone simply delighted in finding words that felt exciting to connect with skin color. As we continue to do this identity work in small groups and as a whole, we trust that each child will explore their own skin color and identity in the way that feels right to them -- just as we don't rush to "correct" a child who misidentifies a number or letter, we follow their processing and meet them exactly where they are, trusting that their learning will guide us to just where we need to be as an inclusive, loving community.

We look forward to fostering more of this celebration: reading books, making art, and encouraging conversation that reflects our strong belief as a community:

Difference is valued.  We are each worthy, whole individuals, deserving of respect and celebration!

"You're a Bad Guy!!"

At the preschool every day there are many characters and roles that the children try on and experiment embodying.  There are always good guys, bad guys, babies, superheros and mamas.

One day during snack time we had a conversation about what a bad guy is.  It went something like this:
"I have heard you guys talking about bad guys lately.  What's a bad guy?"
"Bad guys are Darth Vader."
"Yeah!  He has a light saber and kills people."
"A bad guy does hurt people."
"He's not a nice guy and always runs away."
"Oh!  I see.  It sounds like a bad guy is someone who isn't very kind.  I wonder why he isn't kind."
Silence for a while and the topic moves on to the logistics of how light sabers work.

Recently I have been noticing children saying to each other, "You're a bad guy!"  This is often accompanied by running away quickly and the person being told they are a bad guy quickly saying that they are not.  The next day as we are heading to the back yard, we all line up along the fence as we often do, I told them that I felt like before we played we needed to have a conversation about bad guys.
"I have been noticing that there is a lot of games about bad guys lately."
"Yeah!" almost everyone shouted.
"I'm a bad guy. Rawrrrr." IG said.
"Someone called me a bad guy, but I'm not!" RM said.
"I'm not a bad guy either," HR added.
"Right!  Sometimes we call our selves a bad guy, sometimes we call ourselves a good guy. It can feel fun to be a bad guy sometimes.  Other times, someone else calls us a bad guy.  I'm noticing when that happens, it usually feels bad.  What do you guys think?"
"I don't like when I'm called it." agreed HM
"I like being a bad guy." said QM
"Don't ever call me a bad guy.  I don't like it!" said VM
"Ok.  So what I'm hearing is that we can choose if we are bad guys.  What happens if someone comes up to you and says, 'You're a bad guy!'?" I ask.
"Tell a teacher!  Run away! Tell them you aren't a bad guy!"  Everyone says.
"Yes!  And you can also say, 'My name is______________, that's what you can call me."

"But what if they don't stop?" A few people begin to get worried.  That is always a possibility.  I continue,
"If they don't stop you can choose to not believe them.  We get to choose if we are bad guys.  Can we all agree on that?"
Everyone seemed quite relieved that they got to choose if they were a bad guy or not, and they agreed quickly that that was a new agreement for our school.  By engaging the children in becoming aware of their peers, noticing how it feels within themselves, as well as how they effect each other, is a huge part of our never-ending journey of figuring out relationship building skills.  When children have agency over their emotions and their reactions, they are able to feel confident in what they know is true within themselves.  This is the big work of preschool.

At The Table With Infants

Since Cohort 12 began this June, one of my favorite parts of each day has been sitting down at our table for snacks and meals.  I enjoy preparing food for the children each morning before they arrive, steaming hard vegetables and fruits, cutting large foods into graspable pieces that still hold the shape of the whole food, cooking simple grains, and wondering what each child's reaction will be to the taste of crisp-tender steamed snap peas, perfectly ripe avocado, or tart-sweet summer plums.

The time we spend at the table serves many purposes.  It provides essential nourishment to children who are beginning to rely more and more on solids for satiety.  It causes us all to slow down and gather as a community.  It gives the infants an opportunity to hone their growing skills: drinking from cups, chewing food completely before swallowing, grasping large and small pieces of food.  It provides a rich sensory experience, as I offer foods of varying colors, textures, and flavors, and invite the children to explore what is offered with all of their senses.

At Tumbleweed, we offer whole foods to infants, meaning that food is served in as natural a state as possible.  Until a child has had experiences with the basic state of a food, we offer that food without seasoning, and separate from other foods.  Offering foods in their natural state (that is, perhaps lightly cooked and/or cut into graspable pieces, but not mashed, pureed, peeled, or combined) allows children to begin building a vocabulary around the food they experience.  Food is poked, sniffed, scratched, and examined. The next time these foods are offered they can be recognized by sight and touch before they are tasted, giving the infants rich sense memories to build upon and the ability to anticipate what they will taste when they see a certain food.  Serving whole foods also offers infants the opportunity to feed themselves, choosing what to taste and when to take each bite.

Similarly, drinking from an open cup gives a full sensory experience: the ability to see, smell, and feel a liquid before drinking it.  Open cups are exciting to infants not only because they get to experience their water or milk with all their senses, but also because the cup resembles what the adults (and big kids) in their lives use.  Even among young infants, this is an exciting and rewarding feeling!

The sense of community gained by coming together at the table is hard to overstate.  Each child expresses excitement when they hear me announce that it's time to eat and see me prepare our table and chairs.  As food is distributed, I hear sounds of enthusiasm and curiosity.  Communication between infants happens as they watch each other eat, make sounds back and forth, and make choices (what food to taste next, how to set a cup or piece of food back on the table, when to be all done) partially based on what's going on with the group.  Communication with me happens as the infants point or reach for a food they want more of, use sign language to tell me "more" or "all done," and find many ways to tell me that they are finished with a particular food.

I am so inspired by the eagerness and inquiry with which each infant in Cohort 12 greets each opportunity to interact with food.  I love facilitating our time at the table and I know our continued journey and exploration of food and eating will bring us amazing discoveries in the future!