Foot dragging as resistance to lack of respect

Hey educators, let’s talk about foot dragging.

I have been reading an article by Andrew Yarrow, 2013, on civil disobedience: understanding resistance and value in childcare. I came across the term “foot-dragging” as one of the three distinct forms of everyday resistance the researcher observed being used by early childhood educators and teachers.

The key idea is that foot dragging is when we don’t want to do anything more than the absolute necessary minimum required to keep children safe, satisfy basic compliance, and get your salary.

Unfortunately, as an early childhood trainee, then an early childhood educator, teacher and trainer, I have seen all of these practices.

And instead of calling educators lazy, Andrew Yarrow, the researcher, talks about it as a form of resistance. Educators are resisting rather than simply complying with rules, or feeling discontent but powerless to act.

Let’s say, for example, documentation. Or the requirement to use gloves when you apply sunscreen to 27 children 500 times a day. Or documenting every body movement, or every gram of food a child ate, when it’s not actually required by law.

Educators do what is called “foot dragging”.

It’s a lack of enthusiasm and low energy. It’s a refusal to take that extra step, to go above and beyond.

And going above and beyond is something that early childhood teachers and educators have historically been famous for. We do this job out of love and commitment to early childhood education and to children in general.

But many educators in the study talk about how they lost their enthusiasm. They can’t be bothered anymore because they have been disrespected so many times.

Personally, I have been there as well.

Because when you are paid peanuts, sometimes you work for this bigger goal, right? You go above and beyond. You attend those opening days, you are super diligent, you do your documentation, you give that extra bit of effort.

It’s common for beginning educators and teachers as well.

But eventually, you can start to feel disrespected, under surveillance, under the regulatory gaze, constantly being investigated, or simply not trusted.

And poor wages, poor working conditions and disrespect can lead to a loss of enthusiasm and energy.

So educators start saying things like, “Oh well, they don’t pay me for that.”

Or, “We’re only paid to do this. I’m not going any further.”

And sometimes, this can be quite damaging.

But according to this researcher, Andrew Yarrow, it’s something we shouldn’t simply judge.

Foot dragging 🦶 can actually be a form of resistance to the disrespect and lack of recognition experienced by our profession.

On the surface, it looks like an individual failure. A lazy person. Someone who lacks commitment.

And sometimes, it probably is.

But according to a feminist materialist perspective, it can also be understood as one of the most honest and rational responses to systemic exploitation experienced by predominantly female workers.

So I wonder what you think about dragging your feet.

Do you ever do that?

Do you ever feel so demotivated and stressed that you think, “I’m not paid for doing more than I’m paid for”?

What’s your take on this?

I’d love to know.

Storykate

What the documents call us, and why it matters

I want to show you something small that changed how I read our own curriculum frameworks. I went looking for the word each one uses for me, the person standing in the room with the children. The three central documents gave me three different answers.

The Early Childhood Australia Code of Ethics (2016) calls me an early childhood professional. It defines that as a person who works professionally with or on behalf of children and families. What strikes me is how the Code is written. Its sections are a run of statements that begin “I will.” They read as promises in my own voice. The Code names me as a professional, then asks me to claim that name by committing to it.

The national framework, the EYLF, uses a different word. It calls me an educator. It builds my professionalism out of what I do, describing educators who make professional judgements by drawing on their knowledge, the context of each child, and critical reflection. The word educator holds the degree-qualified teacher and the Certificate III educator inside one term. Which is very inclusive… I also think it created shared language for us.

Here in Victoria, the VEYLDF also says early childhood professional, and it uses the term most broadly of the three. In that framework, the word covers anyone who works with children from birth to eight, and it names nurses, teachers, family support workers and allied health staff alongside educators. Victoria treats the profession as a community of many disciplines. I like the approach of community of practice, this makes ECE profession “relational”.

So notice what happened. Three documents, and I was handed three names before I had chosen one for myself. None of them made teacher the obvious default.

Here is what I would ask you to think about. Find the word each of these documents uses for you, then sit with the one that fits you least. Whose definition of your role have you been carrying without noticing?