"Oh, what's in a name?"
I believe that the words we choose matter. I love language in general. I love building the expression of a thought, piece by piece, with care and deliberation. I love picking apart a sentence, dissecting the author's selection of vocabulary and punctuation. Let's be honest: I even loved diagramming sentences in school. And there's nothing like the satisfaction that comes from knowing I have said something exactly the way I want to say it.
When working with children, our word selection becomes even more critical. Each day presents a million opportunities to create the classroom experience I want and the teacher I want to be, all with my words. Are my words inclusive and reflective of the students in my class? Do they foster trust as well as independence? Are they personal? Do they clearly communicate expectations? Do they convey my belief in the children's competence while giving individualized support? Are they gently challenging the children's biases and provoking new understandings?
Words are important.
When working with children, our word selection becomes even more critical. Each day presents a million opportunities to create the classroom experience I want and the teacher I want to be, all with my words. Are my words inclusive and reflective of the students in my class? Do they foster trust as well as independence? Are they personal? Do they clearly communicate expectations? Do they convey my belief in the children's competence while giving individualized support? Are they gently challenging the children's biases and provoking new understandings?
Words are important.
Perhaps it seems a bit contradictory, then, that I'm so bothered by the various titles that we early childhood professionals use. Some of us are called childcare providers. Others are daycare workers, preschool teachers, or early childhood educators. What feels dangerous to me isn't so much the titles themselves, but rather the implicit assumption that any one of them is better than another. I hear, time and again, childcare settings being described as inferior or subpar to preschools.
"Universal pre-k would just be free daycare."
"We have a preschool, not a daycare."
"I'm not a daycare worker, I'm a teacher."
Here's the bottom line: We know that young children learn best when they have loving relationships with the adults in their lives and have access to lots of play. When we use any of these terms in a derogatory way, we perpetuate the idea that "real learning" couldn't possibly look like a caring adult engaging children in play. And that is a huge disservice to our profession and to one another.
Providing high-quality learning experiences for young children does, in fact, require training and education. It includes an understanding of development, a familiarity with pedagogy, and a commitment to lifelong learning and reflection. The adults in these roles have an ethical responsibility to provide the best possible care and education for the children in their charge. We must hold ourselves to the high standard our students and families deserve. But that can happen during a twelve hour day in a childcare center or in a half day preschool program in a small church. Best practice is best practice, regardless of the setting or the family's reasons for sending their child there.
So, while I'm proud of my profession, I don't really care what you call me. I care about the integrity of what I do. Let's lift each other up by recognizing and celebrating good practice when we see it - wherever it happens.
"Universal pre-k would just be free daycare."
"We have a preschool, not a daycare."
"I'm not a daycare worker, I'm a teacher."
Here's the bottom line: We know that young children learn best when they have loving relationships with the adults in their lives and have access to lots of play. When we use any of these terms in a derogatory way, we perpetuate the idea that "real learning" couldn't possibly look like a caring adult engaging children in play. And that is a huge disservice to our profession and to one another.
Providing high-quality learning experiences for young children does, in fact, require training and education. It includes an understanding of development, a familiarity with pedagogy, and a commitment to lifelong learning and reflection. The adults in these roles have an ethical responsibility to provide the best possible care and education for the children in their charge. We must hold ourselves to the high standard our students and families deserve. But that can happen during a twelve hour day in a childcare center or in a half day preschool program in a small church. Best practice is best practice, regardless of the setting or the family's reasons for sending their child there.
So, while I'm proud of my profession, I don't really care what you call me. I care about the integrity of what I do. Let's lift each other up by recognizing and celebrating good practice when we see it - wherever it happens.
