Present in the Moment

The times in my life where I have been fully engaged--fully present--in the moment have been the most memorable. Good or bad, they are etched on my brain.

My primary adult relationship is a good example. I can close my eyes and instantly replay the first time Tasha, my high school sweet heart and wife, tenderly kissed me and stole my heart. I can vividly recall the birth of our children with the same emotional depth I experienced at the time. I can close my eyes and quickly file through two decades of quiet times of togetherness, dinners, movies, walks, yard work, trips, and the like. I prefer to remember these good times, but I can just as easily bring back the not so good times: arguments and breakups during our volatile teenage years and tough times when work-related stress infected our relationship.

In contrast, my relationship with television has not generated nearly as many memories. Over the years I have spent too much time watching shows like Gilligan’s Island, Leave it to Beaver, Law and Order, and Star Trek. I have frittered away hours and hours of my valuable life slumped in front of a TV. None of those lost hours spring to mind when I look back at my life. I could hold my own in a trivia contest covering the last 30 years, but I do not have a single important memory involving television (although way back in 1991 Tasha and I finished watching a Cheers rerun before heading off to the hospital for our son Tyler’s birth).

I wish recalling my formal education brought forth the rush of memories I have created with Tasha over the years, but, unfortunately, from kindergarten through college there are only a hand full of vibrant classroom learning memories. (Opposed to classroom clowning and goofing off memories—I have lots of them.) Worse yet, the vast majority of the formal learning memories I do have are negative—times I lacked confidence, felt left out, faltered, and failed. 

The good learning memories I have all involve times when I was engaged with at least one other person in an activity I felt was important in that moment. I remember when Maro clandestinely taught me to draw stars during math in first grade, I remember current event discussion time every Friday in 7^th grade, I remember hours and hours invested in editing the high school paper.

I wish I was the only one who walked away from formal education with so few deep memories of actual learning, but life experience has shown me I am far from alone. Most people I have discussed this with look back on their learning time in school as a blur. They summon up special moments that occurred during recess time, goof-off time, music and art time, or before and after school time, but struggle to find fond memories of engaged, in-the-moment learning.

I think one reason for this lack of positive learning memories is that most school systems focus on preparing children for the next grade instead of focusing on teaching what children need to know at the moment. Kindergarten is about getting ready for first grade, first grade is about preparing for second grade, second grade is full of prep-work for third—and on and on it goes. Individual teachers and some school districts make an effort to teach children what they are ready to learn when they are ready to learn it, but overall our educational system fails to meet children where they are at the moment.

I’ve talked to many teachers over the last ten years who are frustrated by an educational system that makes it increasingly difficult for them to teach the way they know children learn best. These teachers long to teach in a manner that creates those memorable learning moments.

This raises the question:

• Is our job as early care and education professionals to prepare children for kindergarten or is our job to focus on the children as individuals and help them learn based on their individual interests in the moment? 

The idea that our sole job is to make children ready for school—when some people think real learning starts—is wide spread.  In fact, lots of early childhood funding is tied to this conviction. The problem with this is that we risk losing the children we care for just as so many of us were lost in our school years. Focusing only on what comes next means we fail children in the moment.

This does not have to be the case. Mindfully working with children as individuals in the moment, creating long lasting learning memories, also prepares them for their long term education. Mindfully building on a child’s unique ebbing and flowing interests, trusting they know what they need to know, and trusting our ability to help them learn will by and large result in a child who is more than ready for school when the time comes. This will also result in a child who carries long lasting memories of those precious learning moments.

As a caregiver, you have to put some thought into what your job really is and what kind of memories you want to create for the children in your care. As for me, several three-year-olds with a fresh interest in stacking blocks will be at our door in a few hours. I have to prepare to meet them where they are as individual thinkers—and create some long lasting learning memories for us all.