Being an early childhood educator has taught me that some of the most profound lessons don’t come from textbooks or training sessions—they come from the children themselves. Let me tell you about a little boy who changed the way I think about teaching and truly meeting kids where they are.
This little boy wasn’t like most of the other kids in the group. While they dove into sensory play or typical group activities, he stuck to repetitive actions. He loved running in circles or zoning in on mechanical objects—folding chairs, anything that clicked, things with moving parts. Social play? Not his thing. He avoided group activities completely and was happiest sitting by himself, completely absorbed in his world of repetitive play. I remember watching him and thinking, How can I connect with him? How do I invite him into something new without forcing it?
Observing, Not Pushing
So, I started small. Instead of trying to get him to join group activities he clearly wasn’t into, I spent time just observing. What made him happy? What grabbed his attention? I didn’t try to change his behavior or direct him to something he wasn’t ready for. I just watched and let him show me what mattered to him.
Then I noticed something amazing: he loved music. Specifically, he loved singing. It started with little moments—he’d hum to himself or perk up when he heard a melody. So, I began weaving music into our day. I’d sing while we cleaned up or during transitions, and little by little, he started to respond.
At first, he’d join in for just a minute or two before going back to his folding chairs and clicks. But those minutes grew. Slowly, day by day, he stayed longer. A few minutes turned into 20, then 40. By the end of the year, he was sitting on the mat with everyone, singing his heart out.
And the most incredible moment? He stood on stage during our end-of-year performance. This was a boy who once avoided group activities entirely. Now, he was standing in front of an audience, the loudest and happiest singer in the group. I couldn’t believe the transformation.
The Takeaway
What this little boy taught me is something I’ll never forget: instead of pushing kids to do something they’re not ready for, start with what excites them. Find their spark, their joy, their interests. Watch them, listen to them, and let them show you the path they’re ready to follow.
For him, music was the key. It was the bridge that connected him to the group and opened him up to new experiences. For another child, it might be something completely different. The magic happens when you take the time to notice and meet them where they are.
When you find that key, it feels like magic. You see children light up, take part, and surprise you in ways you never imagined. That, for me, is what teaching is all about—finding the magic in each child and helping it shine.
So, the next time you’re working with a child who feels hard to reach, remember this: start with their joy. Observe, ask questions, and listen. The results might just take your breath away.
What’s one moment in your teaching journey where you found the “magic” with a child? I’d love to hear your stories.
