Preschooler A pushes Preschooler B off of the playground balance beam and jumps on it in his place. Preschooler B is on the ground crying and I rush over to help these two problem-solve. Thankfully, I observed the incident, because neither child can explain. Preschooler B gesticulates at Preschooler A, with one word "push!" and Preschooler A just frowns at me with furrowed brow, crossing his arms defiantly, when I insist he talk with us.
I persevere - "Let's check in with Preschooler B. Are you okay? Where do you hurt?"
Preschooler B is standing sullenly at my side, holding his elbow.
Me, to Preschooler A, "You want to use the balance beam, but Preschooler B is on it. Let's do this again, this time, you say 'May I use it now?' and Preschooler B will say, "I am on it. You can be next."
Preschooler A, assessing that this isn't going precisely his way, says, "NO!" and throws himself down on the ground, and begins muttering. He is clearly very frustrated. I do not understand what he is saying.
Turn-taking is the cornerstone of all preschool learning. It feels as if I spend my entire year on this concept, helping children to understand that
you are not always first,
others get to play with something and you will be next,
you ask for what you want and listen to (and heed) what your classmates say;
you work things out together.
It is hard to do this when language skills are delayed.
It seems to me that I am increasingly seeing (hearing!) language delays in preschoolers.
Snapshots -
Dad's important job requires him to have his phone on 24 hours a day, and thus he takes a work call while having breakfast with his baby and preschooler, basically doing a charade about what and how to eat while fielding questions from a client - he shakes his head "no" when the preschooler tries to put more cereal in her bowl, he opens a yogurt container, he shakes the baby's bottle, he takes off their bibs, wipes their faces, gets the baby out of the high chair, helps the preschooler down from her chair, all the while saying "Yes, I can check that out. That's on the agenda for ..."
A city sidewalk. Mom is in the lead, with a preschooler and an elementary child walking behind her. The children have on backpacks and are walking slowly, without purpose, trudging really. Mom is talking with someone near and dear, she is very worked up, "Oh, yeah! That's what she said, but that's not what she does!" Her pace is hurried, and she turns to look at the children behind her and glares, while beckoning them to pick up their pace. They are clearly late for wherever they are headed.
Mom walks in to the classroom with her preschooler right behind her, and goes through the morning drop off ritual mechanically, automatically - Mom puts the child's lunch box in the lunch bin, hangs her back pack on the hook, puts the child's water bottle at the water bottle station. All the while, the child is transfixed by a game on Mom's phone. Mom bends down and gives her a kiss on the cheek and, saying, "time for me to have my phone back!" and the child bursts into tears. Mom takes the phone and hands the crying child to the teacher, with a cheery "Have a great day!," and Mom is out the door.
Playground, after school, adults on their phones, many children running around and playing, some adults chatting with one another, and a few solitary preschoolers sitting on benches with parents' phones in hands.
Riding on metro trains, grocery shopping, sitting at restaurants, everywhere I go, when I see adults and children together, one of the two is focused on the phone, not their companion.
I am now watching vigilantly for interactions that contradict this.
I don't know if I am on a rant or a mission, but I am truly sadden by the missed opportunities for language. I see - hear - the effects in the classroom - children who do not meet your eyes, give monosyllabic answers or even grunts, who do not have any idea how to converse with others.
Let's talk, talk, talk with children!
