When friends and acquaintances learn I work as a preschool teacher, they often smile. They say, âYou must have so much patience.â I usually just shrug. I don’t think patience is the most essential quality when working with young children. In fact, Iâm not a fan of patience. Iâm all for understanding.
Take four-year-old James. He is a sturdy redheaded boy. He just decided who gets to ride the scooter by pushing a three-year-old girl off it. Does Jamesâs behaviour require patience? Is patience what I need, as his teacher, to handle the situation thoughtfully and effectively? What does being âpatientâ even mean?

According to most English dictionaries, patience is âthe capacity to accept or tolerate delay, trouble, or suffering without getting angry or upset.â The underlying assumption? Youâre enduring something unpleasant.
Patience is often seen as a hallmark of good educators. âKate, I could never do what you doâI donât have the patience.â âYou must be incredibly patient to work with kids every day.â Compliments like that used to make me smile, but lately theyâve started to rub me the wrong way. Probably because Iâve never considered myself particularly patient. Sure, I can sit through a dental appointment in silence, give blood without flinchingâbut to put up with work that drains me or feels meaningless? No, thank you.
Patience is usually framed as a virtue. It conjures images of someone calm, humble, quietly enduring something difficult. You grit your teeth, take a deep breath, and get through it. Why? Because âpatience is a virtue.â Because âgood things come to those who wait.â Because âhard work and patience conquer all.â These sayings run deep in our cultural wiring.
But I donât think early childhood educators, nannies, or parents of young children should rely too heavily on patience. Why? Because if you’re constantly âputting up withâ children, it probably means youâre not enjoying the work. It suggests youâre not in a state of flow, as described by psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi. And thatâs a problem. Because it means youâre disconnected.
An educator who truly understands a childâs developmental stageâtheir strengths, their challengesâwonât suffer silently. Take James again. His behaviour might look aggressive, but developmentally, itâs not out of the ordinary. Iâm not about to label him a âtroublemakerâ or say heâs violent. Heâs a great kidâhe just doesnât yet know how to behave differently. Maybe he struggles with self-regulation. Maybe he needs support from a psychologist. Either way, the incident (yes, James pushed someone again) becomes an opportunity to teach, not punish.
At this stage of development, James only knows how to express himself through force. My job is to help him find another way. That doesnât require me to clench my fists or count to tenâit simply means I remind him, gently and clearly, that we donât hit people. We use our words. James isnât distracting me from my workâhe is my work. He gives me a reason to model better ways of interacting.
And itâs not just James. Thereâs Zoya, who loves pulling hair and biting. Thereâs Ruben. He is autistic and sometimes throws sticks from the top of the slide. This behavior is not out of malice. He doesnât yet grasp the consequences of his actions.
If I relied solely on patience, Iâd burn out by the end of the first week. By the end of the month, Iâd be yelling and reacting poorly. What I need far more than patience is understanding. And that understanding comes from developmental theory, from knowing childrenâs capabilities and limitsâand from genuinely wanting to be around them.
Patience has a limit. Thereâs a reason we say, âBeware the wrath of the patient person.â But understanding, compassion, and connection? Theyâre renewable.
Teachers and parents who expect three- to five-year-olds to sit quietly on a mat or at a desk? They do need patienceâbecause they lack understanding. Itâs almost comical to watch an educator sternly tell a child “for the last time” to take a pencil out of their mouth. They clearly forget what itâs like to be teething and want to chew everything.
Expectations that arenât age-appropriate only create tension between adults and children. If I know a childâs gums are itchy, Iâll offer a teething toy or some crunchy toast. My voice and body language stay calmânot because Iâm forcing patience, but because I get it. When you understand, thereâs nothing to endure.
Treating young childrenâs behaviour as something to be enduredâlike a headache or a traffic jamâturns it into something threatening. âYouâre doing this just to upset your mum!â âJohnny, did you pee your pants on purpose?â Many of us still remember those hurtful lines from our own childhoods. We recall how wrong they were. We also remember how much they shamed us.
But harshness and rejection often come from a simple lack of understanding. When adults take time to really listenânot just to what children say, but to what they meanâthey create space for growth. When I understand a child, I respond to them as they areânot as I wish they were. I donât waste energy fighting the fact that children are, well, children. I use my energy to guide them.
And that, to me, is far more powerful than patience.
Let me know what you think!
Kate