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WORKSHOP
Read the following scenario and then answer the questions.
Kate is an educator in a four‑year‑old kindergarten program. Over the past two weeks, she has been observing Mia, a child who recently returned after a short illness, to better understand how Mia’s wellbeing is being supported in the group.
During free indoor play, Mia often chooses the home corner. She carefully sets out plates and cups and talks softly while pretending to prepare meals. On Tuesday, another child reached for one of the cups Mia was using. Mia pulled the cup back toward herself and said, “I’m not finished yet.” When the other child persisted, Mia stood up quickly and moved to a different area of the room without speaking. Kate noticed that Mia resumed play independently, but her movements were tense and rushed.
In the outdoor environment, Mia spends most of her time near the climbing structure. She watches other children climbing and sliding, occasionally stepping closer but rarely climbing herself. On Thursday, when Kate asked if Mia would like support to climb the ladder, Mia shook her head and said quietly, “I’ll just watch.” After a few minutes, Mia joined another child rolling balls down the slide and laughed when the balls bounced away.
During group music time, Mia sits close to Kate and participates in familiar songs, smiling and doing the actions. When a new song is introduced, Mia covers her ears briefly. She leans into Kate. She slowly re‑engages once the song becomes predictable.
At lunch time, Mia confidently opens her lunchbox and begins eating. She chats easily with a nearby child about their food but becomes upset when her yoghurt spills. Mia says, “It’s all messed up,” and pushes the container away. With Kate’s reassurance, Mia takes a few deep breaths. Kate helps her clean up. Mia accepts a replacement snack. She remains quiet for the rest of lunch.
At pick‑up time, Mia waves excitedly when her mum arrives. She runs over, talking quickly about the day. However, when Kate approaches to share an observation, Mia looks down and holds onto her mum’s arm until the conversation ends.
Let’s reflect on Mia’s learning?
What behaviours indicate positive wellbeing on Mia’s part?
What behaviours suggest that Mia might benefit from additional support?
What could Kate do to support Mia’s wellbeing and sense of security throughout the day?
As a young mum, I was genuinely allured by Glenn Doman’s approach. It sounded scientific, ambitious, and hopeful. Who would not want to give their child every possible advantage? I tried it. I made the cards. I followed the routines. I believed I was opening doors that might otherwise stay closed.
But over time, questions began to creep in. Quiet ones at first. Then louder.
Who Was Glenn Doman?
In the 1940s, Dr Glenn Doman began working with a small interdisciplinary group that included a neurosurgeon, physician, physiotherapist, speech therapist, psychologist, methodologist, and early childhood educator.
The group formed in response to an urgent challenge: how to support children who had suffered severe brain injuries. At the time, no one had ever fully recovered from such injuries, and the outlook was bleak.
Doman and his colleagues decided that the only way forward was to focus directly on the injured brain. But after years of work, they realised something important. It was not enough to work with the damaged brain itself.
What mattered was returning to the earliest stages of development. The brain needed the chance to go back and relearn fundamental developmental steps, such as crawling and moving on all fours. These stages, they believed, were essential for healthy brain development.
As their work progressed, neurosurgeons joined the group and began performing radical procedures. In some cases, large areas of disorganised brain tissue were surgically removed. These areas were thought to interfere with healthier regions, creating neurological noise.
After surgery and intensive developmental intervention, some children showed remarkable improvement. A small number were even able to pass standard IQ tests, sometimes achieving above average results.
Doman later said:
“Even in our most fantastic dreams, we could not have imagined that a child who had lost billions of brain cells could achieve results equal to or sometimes better than the average child.”
The Question That Changes Everything
Let us pause and think.
If a child who has lost part of their brain can perform just as well as a child with an intact brain, what does that say about the so‑called “normal” child?
Why does a child with twice the neurological capacity not automatically achieve more?
The conclusion feels uncomfortable but clear. If we invested the same level of time, attention, and deliberate teaching into typically developing children as we do into children with brain injuries, many of them might far surpass average expectations.
In other words, the “normal” child may not be the gold standard we assume.
From my own perspective, as a follower of Vygotsky, this resonates deeply. I believe in social learning. The more adults engage with a child, talk with them, listen to them, and genuinely care, the more the brain develops. Neural connections strengthen. Language expands. Understanding deepens. And happiness grows.
The Doman Method: Why I Question It
Glenn Doman went on to develop his method of early childhood development through the Institutes for the Achievement of Human Potential in Philadelphia. The idea was simple and compelling. The younger the child, the greater their capacity to learn. Parents, not institutions, should be the child’s primary teachers.
Learning, according to Doman, should begin as early as possible.
The method combines physical exercises based on innate reflexes with structured exposure to knowledge through flashcards. Programs promise early reading, encyclopedic knowledge, and even foreign languages.
Doman famously said learning should be a game that stops before the child gets tired. Interest, he argued, is sustained through speed and novelty.
As a young mum, this made sense to me. I wanted to do something meaningful. Something proactive. Something backed by science.
But as an experienced educator, I no longer support this method.
There are gentler, more ecological ways to support learning. Play. Conversation. Exploration. Shared curiosity.
The Good and the Difficult
To be fair, there are positives.
The method encourages deep parental involvement. It connects physical development with cognitive growth. Many children raised with the method show impressive abilities, both mentally and physically. It is also accessible, designed for home use, and well-documented.
But there is a cost.
In this approach, the child often becomes an object rather than a subject of learning. Adults decide what matters. Adults decide the pace. Adults decide the knowledge target.
Anyone who has watched the documentary Smart Babies may feel the tension. At some point, learning becomes tiring. Maintaining attention becomes the main struggle. Flashcards are waved in front of faces that simply want to move, explore, or rest.
There is also a strange discomfort in watching very young children perform adult knowledge on command. Sometimes it feels less like learning and more like training.
As a parent, the question that stayed with me was this:
Why do I need my toddler to distinguish a crow from a raccoon at eighteen months?
Will this encyclopedic knowledge still matter later? Will it stay? Will it nourish curiosity, or replace it?
In the documentary, a seventeen‑year‑old who had been raised using the Doman method could not recognise the airplane models he once learned as a child. The knowledge had not endured.
I found myself wondering whether it might have been better to play in the garden. To experiment with water. To listen to stories. To simply be together in learning.
Where I Stand Now
I understand why parents are drawn to the Doman method. I was one of them.
But with time, experience, and a deeper understanding of learning, I have come to value slower, relational, play‑based approaches. Learning that grows from interaction, not instruction. From joy, not urgency.
Quite often, behaviourism is considered to be an outdated theory. Operant conditioning is a theory that is also misunderstood. It is linked to the work of B.F. Skinner and John Watson. Unlike classical conditioning, operant conditioning is about voluntary behaviour.
From a behaviourist perspective, learning is a permanent behaviour change. That is why it is still important for teachers to understand behaviourism and apply it effectively. To do this, you need to know a few key ideas.
B.F. Skinner – one of the foundational fathers of behaviourism and operant conditioning
As a teacher, you need to work out what learners find reinforcing. Many children respond well to attention. For example, when you look at them, acknowledge them, or give them a turn during group time. However, children with additional needs, learning difficulties, or neurodiversity may find this attention stressful or overwhelming.
For example, I worked with a child with ODD. When he raised his hand and I chose someone else, trying to be fair, he would become very upset and go into a meltdown. For some learners, especially those with autism, you need to find different types of reinforcers.
That said, many learners still respond well to attention. One teacher found that simply sitting next to a child during lunch was a powerful reinforcer. For others, pride in learning or problem-solving can be motivating. Some children enjoy solving problems and receiving feedback or praise.
Different learners find different things reinforcing. Stickers sometimes work, but not always. There was a study by Resetta and Noel in 2008 where teachers and students ranked reinforcers such as toy dinosaurs, stickers, and other items. The results showed that what teachers thought would work did not always match what students actually preferred.
This suggests that you may need to rethink simple reward systems like stickers and consider other approaches, such as focusing on dispositions. Also, we are no longer allowed to use things like sweets, so you need to problem-solve what is genuinely reinforcing for your students. This links directly to the Australian Professional Standards for Teachers, especially knowing your students and how they learn.
You also need to understand that consequences shape behaviour. For example, giving marks or turns can function as reinforcement. One student might feel proud of a small improvement, while another may only feel satisfied with the highest mark.
It is important to intentionally reinforce positive behaviour. However, you need to observe behaviour first. You cannot reinforce behaviour that is not there yet. This is where shaping comes in.
Shaping means reinforcing small steps towards the desired behaviour. For instance, during group time, if a child sits down, you still reinforce that effort even if they do not sit the “expected” way yet. Especially with younger children, you focus on progress rather than perfection.
Finally, use material rewards with care. I once worked with a co-educator who used small LEGO sets to motivate a child, including for toilet training. While it seemed like a good idea, success depended on factors such as family support and the child’s developmental readiness.
In that case, the child had strong skills in areas like building and mark making. However, his emotional development did not match his physical readiness for toilet training. There were likely deeper reasons behind the behaviour, and the rewards alone were not enough.
In the end, the child did develop those skills, but it was not simply because of the reward. It required a broader understanding of the child and their needs.
Are you still using operant conditioning in your classrooms?
“This isn’t just a game—it’s a real treasure chest of geometry, combinatorics, logic, and pattern recognition tasks,” says the author of a hugely popular child development book.
There are quite a few varieties of mosaics available—plastic, magnetic, ones with letters, and ones with little pegs. For mathematical purposes, a rectangular mosaic board with colourful peg buttons works best. This way, we develop not only spatial thinking and concentration, but also fine motor skills. Ideally, you should have several boards (it’s convenient for working with multiple children, and you can also “connect” boards to each other). The larger the pegs, the better. As children grow, you can reduce their size.
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Following a Pattern: Pegboard
The first task is to create a figure following a pattern. Usually, these come with the mosaic sets, but if you don’t have any, you can make up patterns yourself by drawing them with markers.
Mathematician Alexander Zvonkin recommends starting with the principle “from simple to complex.” First, lay out an axis on the board with pegs of one colour—a vertical line running down the middle of the field. This line will be the “mirror,” and different figures will be reflected in this mirror.
Build a simple figure on one side—a square, rectangle—and ask the child to repeat it on the other side of the “mirror.” You can vary the colour, size, and position of the figures. To check how accurately the children managed to mirror your figure, take a real mirror. If it’s the same, everything’s fine. If not, let’s try to fix it.
In the next session, you can change the axis position: first, make it horizontal, then diagonal. The figures you create can become progressively more complex. Make multicoloured diamonds, create butterflies. Check with the mirror. Symmetry, according to Zvonkin, is a rich topic—definitely search online for photos of snowflakes and other examples of symmetry in nature, or look in H. Weyl’s book “Symmetry.”
Learning to Write
According to Maria Montessori’s definition, reading is the transformation of sounds into symbols. That’s exactly what we’ll do with the mosaic. We’ll compose keywords, and then move on to sentences. This is especially useful when learning a foreign language.
I give the child cards with so-called sight words or basic words, and they copy them for me on the mosaic. The spelling rules pass through the “hand.”
Why This Works:
The mosaic board is a brilliant multisensory tool. Children aren’t just seeing letters and patterns—they’re building them, peg by peg. Each placement requires precision, planning, and physical engagement. When a four-year-old recreates the word “the” or “cat” with colourful pegs, they’re encoding that word into muscle memory. The tactile experience of pushing each peg into place creates a stronger neural pathway than simply writing with a pencil.
And for symmetry work? There’s something magical about the moment a child places that final peg and realises their butterfly’s wings are perfectly balanced. Mathematics becomes visible, tangible, and deeply satisfying.
