I am fairly certain I am the only Denita Dinger you will ever meet in your life. Feel free to chuckle at the name....go ahead....take a second....you won't be the first, and certainly not the last.
The important thing to know about my childhood is that I grew up on a farm. I grew up hearing "go play". I made oodles of mud pies, got stuck in plenty of snow drifts, and I even performed shows for the cattle. I did not have formal preschool, I went to Kindergarten with a small grasp of what letters were, a larger understanding of numbers (because as an elite mud pie baker and actress, counting was far more relevant to my life). I am fairly confident that I turned out fine. Some days, I dare say I turned out great!
I attended college at NSU in Aberdeen, SD where I earned a BS in Elementary Ed with a minor in Early Childhood Education. Those degrees did not form the early childhood professional I am today however. I have evolved over 13 years of working with young children, I have learned through trial and error and by simply listening to children. I have learned more than any textbook could ever tell me. I learned by doing! That was the best way for me to learn, and I stand firm in my belief that DOING is the best way for young children to learn!
I used to be the queen of lesson plans. Oh how I loved my lesson plan books. I loved the organized columns, the feel of the crisp pages just waiting for me to write what I wanted to do. I hated erasing in my lesson plan book. I liked it to be perfect, without a single scribble or arrow.
I ordered box curriculums when I first started Giggles and Grins Daycare and Preschool in the basement of my home. I never followed their plans (I am not a good follower), I always made my own, just used them for the pre-cut, ready to go "art" projects and (shudder) worksheets. Oh those lovely art projects that would all end up looking the same. Ten penguins all in a row, waiting to be taken home. All with red bows, orange beaks, two feet, white bellies. All with toilet paper tube bodies (I could always count on a toilet paper tube project every month). Then there were the worksheets. We all sat down at the table, whether they wanted to or not, and filled in the worksheets. Why? Two reasons: 1) I couldn't waste them, and 2) I had to please the parents.
I evolved from what I affectionately call the "toilet paper tube phase" to just writing my own curriculum. I call this the "My Way". After two years of "following" a box curriculum my brain was bursting with great ideas of what kids would want to do. I ditched all worksheets because after 2 years of making children do them, my heart was telling me it was just not right. My lesson plan books at this point started to get a little messy and less perfect. There were scribbles and arrows, and I cringed every time one of plans didn't happen.
I had the entire year planned out. I knew what letter we would learn about, what number and color. I knew that we would be interested in arctic animals in January, and trains in February. I knew the boys and girls would want to learn about farms in March and would be interested in castles in May.
The "My Way" phase lasted for 5 years. Every child was over ready for kindergarten. They could write on lined paper and recognize and say the sound of every letter, capital and lower case. I assessed them and sent home a "Look What I Can Do" booklet. I had done my job. Parents were happy. But you know what? When I look back, and compare the children I have now, to the ones I had then......there was little imagination in those children. The Lego blocks sat untouched. The bucket of PVC pipes never saw past being swords, a corndog box was never more than a corn dog box. Every day they asked ME what we were going to do. It was as if their little minds couldn't create what to do for themselves. Sure, the ideas I had, and the learning that we shared was fun, I have so many wonderful memories from those years. But it was all led by me. They depended on me to tell them what to play, how to play and who to play with. I didn't even realize it, until I made a change and now have something to compare "back then" to.
So then.... what happened that made me change? It's ironic really. It has to do with a creature we are all familiar with. One who changes into something that is full of hope and wonder. A caterpillar. A simple, lime green caterpillar.
It was the fall of the year, and we were learning about our senses. I put a "different twist" on the typical beginning of the year "All about Me" unit. We were focusing on our senses. This particular day we were going to learn about the sense of smell.
The day was gorgeous, so we went outside to play before "school" started. As the kids were playing under the tree they discovered a caterpillar. I was greeted with a chorus of, "Nita! A caterpillar!", "Can we keep him?", "Can we put him in a jar?"
Do you know what I said?
I actually said with the biggest, most excited eyes I could muster, "Guess what!? We are going to learn about our noses today! In two weeks we will learn about caterpillars! We will find one then, and keep him." (My mind was screaming, "Silly kids. This is September; I can't possibly scribble in my brand new Lesson Plan book already!!")
I had some very disappointed kids; shoulders slumped and smiles melted. That's when this little man hopped on my shoulder and screamed, "What on earth are you doing?!" I explained the whole lesson plan thing and the fact that it would ruin the theme. The little man continued "Well, this is plain stupid. I think it's about control. Why does YOUR theme and YOUR scribble-free lesson plan book matter more than what THEY are interested in right now? Listen to the children .... THIS is what they are interested in NOW....grab on!"
That was the day I became a Professional Brain Developer. It's a self-given title I use to make myself sound important to those people who don't get the importance of early childhood professionals or understand the work of child care. Feel free to attach it to your name...it holds a lot of power...well, it causes people to look twice at least!
So, the moral of the story is to go ahead and have a plan. Just don't be so stuck on YOUR plan that you aren't listening to the children! Feel free to borrow my little man to keep on your shoulder. He will remind you: "This is what they are interested in NOW....grab on!"