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

Children’s theories: how to use them for planning?

Have you ever heard a child say something that made you stop and think, “Wait a minute. I’ve never thought about it that way”?

Today I wanted to talk about theories, or child theories.

Outcome 4.2 talks about problem-solving, inquiry, experimentation, hypothesising, researching and investigating. One of the educator strategies is to help and encourage children to express or make visible their ideas and theories to others.

Wait a minute. But what theories are we talking about?

The word “theories” appears in the educator strategy column in the EYLF. The everyday meaning of theory is an established explanation backed by evidence. It’s a set of ideas, and it’s usually quite structured.

You probably know about Piaget’s theory, Vygotsky’s sociocultural theory, post-humanist theory and many others.

But in the Reggio Emilia approach, we talk about children’s theories. This goes back to Loris Malaguzzi’s vision of children as capable and competent.

Children have their own theories, or explanations, that they build to make sense of the world.

Malaguzzi described the child as competent, capable, creative and rich, as opposed to the idea of the child as an empty vessel proposed earlier by John Locke and followed by the formal education system.

Carla Rinaldi talked about three roles: the child as a protagonist of their own learning, the child as a collaborator working with other children and with educators, and the child as a communicator who uses the hundred languages, or many different expressive media.

A child’s theory, in Reggio terms, is provisional. It is a way of making sense of something. It is an explanation.

For example, recently I visited a nature-based preschool and overheard the following conversation between two boys. They were talking about mosquitoes, and they saw animal droppings on the ground. One child asked:

“Do mosquitoes poo?”

This really stopped me in my tracks because I had never really thought about it.

And children really are quite clever. They offer us a fresh perspective on many things that we have never even questioned or that we have simply taken for granted.

Theories are usually social. They build and develop through groups. Disagreement is normal, and disagreement can be productive.

Children’s theories drive planning in Reggio Emilia, and educators document them for projects, or progettazione, which is usually inquiry-based.

Listening for children’s theories is a very important interpretive act.

Going back to the mosquitoes, the children really didn’t know whether mosquitoes had a full digestive tract and whether they produced waste. So they made a hypothesis: maybe mosquitoes poo, or maybe they don’t.

That could potentially become a theory.

It will become a more developed theory when children say something like:

“Mosquitoes don’t poo because they only drink blood, and blood is a drink.”

Or:

“They do poo, but it’s too small to see.”

Now we have something that is becoming a theory.

But at this stage, it is still a very important part of the inquiry process. And I would definitely document it, which I did.

The thing with questions like this, or theories that can come out of them, is to resist the temptation to give the immediate answer.

As people in Reggio Emilia say, handing the question back to children can start an inquiry and grow into a full-on project.

For example, children found a dead snake on the ground.

Maxim said, “I never die.”

James agreed.

“And I also never die because we are kids,” said Maxim.

Three things make this a theory.

There is a claim: “I never die.”

There is a question underneath it: What is life? What is death?

And there is a reason: “Because we are kids.”

This makes it a theory.

Two children are building a theory through their social interaction. They are exploring the concept of death, which is not an easy topic.

Maxim accepted that the snake is dead and will probably stay dead. All things die. Animals die. But kids are exempt.

And that is their theory.

Have you ever witnessed any unusual child theories?

Have you observed or noticed theories in practice?

I would really like to hear from you.👇🏻

Do not give up your thinking so easily…

Hey educator!

If you are currently studying for your Certificate III, Diploma, or Bachelor in Early Childhood Education and Care, Primary Education, or any other education field, there is something I want you to pay attention to.

In the age of AI, it can seem like we have a tool that is incredibly helpful.

However, it can also steal our ability to learn and think for ourselves.

We need to understand the research behind writing to learn.

Writing helps us learn when we use it not only to make notes, but also to ask questions and explain ideas to ourselves. For example, research on self-explanation, such as the work published in 1989, looked at the moments when learners stop understanding something. Self-explanation involves explaining what you have learned to yourself, and this process can help you identify where your understanding breaks down.

This is also where AI can be useful, and this is very important.

Before you even ask AI to explain something to you, such as Lev Vygotsky, you need to write down, jot down, or say out loud what you already know.

Start with your own thinking. Write what you know about scaffolding, ZPD, social learning , culture. Then use AI to help you identify gaps, ask better questions, challenge your thinking, or clarify something you don’t understand. That way, AI becomes a learning tool rather than a replacement for learning.

Kate – Storykate

Hidden job market in early childhood education and care

Most educators looking for work in early childhood head straight to SEEK, Indeed or Jora, refresh the page every morning, and wait. Fair enough. That is what we are all taught to do. As a journalist, I always try to find sneaky ways or hidden vacancies.

This will surpise you 🙂 A lot of the best positions are filled before anyone writes an advertisement.

Centres often fill vacancies from their own pool, from so-called sister cenres, director’s network; and … through a recommendation, a placement student who impressed everyone, a casual relief educator who already knows the room, or someone who simply introduced themselves a few months earlier. This is what I mean by the hidden job market. It relied on relationships and timing, and you can absolutely get into it.
Your goal is to become the first person a director thinks of when a position opens up.

1. Make a list of services you would love to work at. I usually start with the local exceeding or even excellently rated services.

Start before there is a vacancy. Research the services that actually match your values, then get to know them properly. Read their philosophy, look at their programs, notice how they talk about children. Drive or walk past and observe some practices.

✓ Long day care ✓ Kindergartens and sessional services ✓ Montessori or Reggio-inspired centres ✓ Bush kinders and nature programs ✓ Community-based services ✓ Not-for-profit organisations

2. Introduce yourself

Most directors respect an educator who is initiative and engaged in the job search. Send a short, warm email with your resume attached, your availability, your qualifications or expected completion date, and a couple of honest lines about why their service interests you.

3. Use your placement network

Professional experience is one of the strongest pathways into your first job, and the connections outlast the placement itself. Stay in touch with your supervising teacher, the educational leader, the director, the educators you worked beside, and your university peers. Do not burn the bridges!

From my experience, placement is one of the best ways to get hired.

4. Join relief agencies

Casual work builds your experience and your confidence at the same time. It also puts you in front of directors across many services, which means people know your name and your practice before a permanent role ever opens.

https://www.vic.gov.au/register-recruiter-find-early-childhood-jobs

5. Attend professional events

Early Childhood Australia events, local network meetings, council professional learning, conferences, workshops, university networking evenings. These rooms are full of educational leaders, and vacancies get mentioned out loud long before they get advertised.

6. Build your professional job portfolio

Your reputation starts well before your first permanent position. Keep your resume current, your LinkedIn profile updated, your Working With Children Check ready, and your references organised so you can move quickly when something comes up.

I always bring my folio or ipad with photo evidence to the important interviews.

Here is my video on how to create your portfolio

7. Tell people you are looking

So many opportunities arrive through ordinary conversations. Mention it to friends, family, lecturers, placement mentors, previous employers and classmates. Someone usually knows a service that needs an educator. That’s how I found my first job actually.

8. Be specific about what you want

“I’m happy to do anything” is too vague. Let’s use the manifestation approach here and calibrate our brain to help up to find the best opportunity for us.

Try something closer to this. “I’m looking for a graduate Early Childhood Teacher position where I can keep developing my practice in play-based learning and build strong relationships with children and families.”

That sentence gives someone a real picture, and real pictures stick.
Your brain also loves it!
9. Follow up

Contacted a service and heard nothing back? Send a polite follow-up a week or two later. It reads as professional and interested, and it puts your name in front of them a second time.

One last thing

Your next job might never appear on a job board at all. It might begin with a placement, a casual shift, a recommendation, a conversation at a workshop, or one short email to a centre you have admired for months.

Make yourself visible while the vacancy is still hypothetical. That is where the hidden market lives.

Cheers, Storykate

Forager Pedagogy – well, that’s something new

Today I’ve learned about a new approach called forager pedagogy. This pedagogy is grounded in First Nations perspectives, which, as you know, are an important part of the EYLF and the Victorian Early Years Learning and Development Framework. Our core curriculum documents.

A foraging approach means you are someone who forages. Picking mushrooms, berries. Something very cultural for me. I grew up in the country, in the environment called tundra, in the Arctic North, and I foraged a lot. I used to walk on country. It’s something I keep enjoying, because for me it provides a lens of relaxing, of mindfulness, of being with myself while being deeply connected to something bigger than I am.

Walking is the easiest way to relax, to become more mindful, to feel grounded

So let’s talk about the theory behind it.

The core idea of foraging is to look for something. In literature, they call it look for traces of ghosts of what is now gone. Following marks, seeking out, paying attention. You shift perspective up and down, from the sky to the ground, far into the distance and then up close. Your eyes relax. Your gestures become more animal-like. You move your body the way other non-human animals do. You also recognise how you have become separated from all of it through boots and clothes. That gives you a sense of grounding, at least it does for me.

Adopting this lens matters if you’re looking to welcome more First Nations perspectives, country-based learning and play-based pedagogy into your practice. The EYLF now encourages us to do all of this.

Think about how you can use this pedagogy to create more presence, or refiguring presence, as they say in the research and in the book on children and nature. I really like the idea of relational kinship, which goes back to being with country and to First Nations perspectives, where country is a living entity, and where family, ancestors, lore and spiritual beliefs are all part of it. Lore here is something like law and regulations, or moral law. This way you become part of something bigger, and you provide reciprocal care. You look after country, and country looks after you.

You can also think of the forager lens as noticing ways of communication. Children are still acquiring language, so we can look at how plants, animals, mushrooms and mycelium communicate. What signals, what warnings, what conversations are happening?

One of the easiest things to do is walk. That gives you sensory attunement as well. When you’re tired, you can sit down and sit with country, or sit on a stump while you’re picking mushrooms, which is completely natural. While you do it, you can listen to the earth’s heartbeat. You can lie down and look at the sky, at the clouds, and feel the wind.

This is something I encourage you to start doing with children. And by yourself.