_630_465_int_s_c1.png "Slow pedagogy – How it might improve your practice")
Packing the day with planned activities can negatively affect children’s learning – slow pedagogy may be a better way, says Katherine Cooling-Smith…
What if we took a step back and made a conscious decision to strip out our preplanning? What if instead we created an environment filled with rich resources that met our children’s developmental needs holistically?
And, what if we spent time out in nature, following the intrigues and interests of the children without any rushed time constraints?
This might feel quite daunting and like we aren’t “doing enough”; however, cramming in activities to evidence teaching often negatively impacts learning.
Rushed sessions or moving quickly from topic to topic can be overwhelming and doesn’t always offer children the optimal conditions for embedding new knowledge and skills.
Over the last couple of years, I have made the move towards a slow pedagogy, and in doing so have levelled up my provision. Here are five ways it has improved my practice…
Deeper opportunities for emotional and cognitive connection lead to empowered children who love to learn…
While meandering along the Essex Way on a warm morning back in May, my three-year-olds shot off to splash through a long, shallow puddle they’d spotted just ahead.
Backwards and forwards they ran until I caught them up with my two-year-old, who had fallen behind after stopping to study a ladybird sunning itself on a leaf – a moment quietly shared between the two of us.
Setting our bags down, I observed as all three delighted in running, jumping, and dancing in the water, until my littlest decided very abruptly to sit himself down right in the middle of it.
I watched as he swished his legs from side to side, feeling the force of the water as he displaced it with his movements. He was noticing that smaller movements made little ripples, while bigger movements made larger waves.
I then watched as his attention turned to a big stone. Picking it up carefully with two hands, he noticed that his wet fingers made some striking marks on its dusty surface.
My other two were occupied carrying and dropping large rocks from a height, exclaiming that the bigger they were, the larger the splash!
I pulled out some watercolour palettes from our rucksack, and for the next few hours we stayed where we were, mark making with water and paint, revisiting the rock-splashing experiment, exploring the hedgerows, building a bridge for ants, and attempting to skim flat stones, before finally settling down on the bank to read some nature books.
Our morning had begun with no set plans, bar the children asking to visit the horses at the stables. It had taken us an hour to reach the puddle after pausing with a snack to watch two pigeons building a nest.
The return journey was no different: more ladybirds were carefully studied, strange bugs were Googled, and our nature books were used again to identify the clouds we could see high above us.
It would be a further two hours before we finally made it back to the setting. In one wonderfully unhurried, unplanned morning led by a small group of preschoolers, we had effortlessly covered all areas of learning and supported everyone’s next steps.
On paper, that might feel far too simple, but simplicity is exactly what I strive for now. The complexity and meaningful learning opportunities come from what I as the educator add in the moment.
It’s the skill of standing back and letting children notice, explore, and test for themselves before stepping in at just the right moment to add opportunities for them to take it further.
I’ve gained greater confidence in my role as a mindful educator…
We are all familiar with that sense of needing to prove that what we are doing is enough. Although a written timetable, perfectly curated tuff tray, and themed display about the life cycle of a ladybird offer a more tangible link to learning and next steps than the child crouched over the buddleia, I now have the courage to know that I can evidence this without the obvious resources and displays.
During inspection, I talk about what my continuous provision offers and the methods I utilise, how authentic resources, loose parts, and access to a wide range of creative and malleable media nurture children’s interests, and that the time allowed for children to just be is where I find the richest teachable moments.
However, it wasn’t until I discovered research by Professor Alison Clark through her book Slow Knowledge and the Unhurried Child: Time for Slow Pedagogies in Early Education that I finally felt truly confident that the slow pedagogy approach was okay, and that really it was better than okay, because the noticeable impact it was having on my children was remarkable.
The children are exceeding expectations for Communication and Language…
The extra time we spend “not doing” opens space for conversation and a huge amount of sustained shared thinking on a much deeper level.
This doesn’t just apply to my preschoolers but also to my babies and toddlers, for whom the time is just as valuable for connecting and building on their prespeech skills and understanding.
I have never shied away from using “big” words and rich, descriptive language around my young children, and sharing these moments of learning together in a relaxed manner nurtures their ability to understand, absorb, and embed language more effectively.
This is further supported by the fact we are chatting about things that have captured their interest, meaning they are wholly engaged.
I can provide richer opportunities for science, technology, engineering, art, and mathematics (STEAM)…
An unscheduled approach means we have time to say “yes” instead of “not today” to children’s more complex or messy in-the-moment requests.
If conversation turns to volcanoes, we can pull out the bicarb and vinegar when the spark is there, rather than the next day when it’s passed.
For that child banging a stick against a rock as a hammer, we can offer the woodworking tools and give them all the time they need to explore these and be creative.
I’m a firm believer that you can incorporate STEAM-based opportunities and language into any situation, and I’m always ready to pull out our creative resources when necessary.
This approach offers enhanced mental wellbeing – not only for my children but also for myself…
The truth is that children will meet their milestones whether we pack learning in or embrace slow pedagogy. However, rushed or hurried children often have higher levels of cortisol in the brain and feel stressed or anxious, meaning they are not able to absorb information as effectively.
Therefore, it’s important to consider not just what they are learning but also how. We must also think about our own mental wellbeing, and how slow pedagogy can give us space to breathe in an industry that asks so much of us.
When we curate spaces with resources that spark their interests and fulfil their developmental needs holistically, those rich, teachable moments naturally present themselves.
We are empowering, inspiring, and nurturing both the children’s love of learning and our own.
For many of us, the early years is more than just a nine-to-five job. The dedication and commitment that we have is deeply rooted.
It is justified, then, that we have feelings of trepidation in confidently managing inspections. After all, half a decade of hard work is judged on a snapshot taken over just one or two days.
For those of us who have a slow pedagogy approach, we can also be left pondering how to cram in everything inspectors want to see effectively while staying true to our slow, child-led practice.
Despite my advice to others about being confident in our approach, even I admit to having had a wobble in the days preceding Ofsted’s arrival.
I considered adding in some concrete planning and adult-led activities to ensure that I covered everything. I was worried they would expect something more structured and traditional.
But then I reminded myself that Ofsted want to know what it’s like to be a child in the setting. I felt that if I could evidence the impact and outcomes, and could confidently explain my approach, then I would trust my children to lead, just as I would on a typical day.
I needn’t have worried; the inspector loved this slow, child-directed approach.
“Children’s imagination is captured, and they show sustained concentration. Even the very young have a thirst for learning.”
Having a predominantly “in-the-moment” approach, for me, requires a carefully considered balance. It’s about enabling children to be the pioneers steering their ship while I tag along for the ride. I help them to navigate the big, open waters with some careful guidance and sustained shared thinking.
Here, our environment always functions as the third teacher. Providing an enriching, dynamic space and having no set expectations of its use means that our days are curated based on where the children’s interests take them right then and there.
If and when the moment arises, I subsequently pull in other resources and scaffold learning.
I was open about this with the inspector from the start. I explained that I wouldn’t be providing an adult-led activity, and that I would step back from children if they were busy and engaged, mindful not to interrupt their concentration. It was important that the inspector knew that this was strategic on my part.
The inspector was really positive about this hands-off approach. This meant that I didn’t feel under pressure to “perform” just because she was there.
In moments where I felt she might have expected me to step in, I quietly explained to her what the child was learning. I mentioned what I was noticing about them, how it related to their next steps, and how I would extend when the opportunity was right.
“A holistic and ambitious curriculum”
The most wonderful aspect of slow pedagogy and a child-led approach is that there are no boundaries to learning.
Children’s interests, imagination, and ideas throw out infinite possibilities when we let them lead, and this was true during inspection.
We spent most of our time under the apple tree exploring a huge block of clay, water, fresh herbs, teabags, and an array of authentic tools.
Alongside this I had laid out our usual creative areas. This included watercolours, chalks, pens, pencils and scissors, plus our cosy little reading nook amidst the jasmine.
The children demonstrated how they confidently lead their play. They busied themselves while we talked about our nature-based curriculum and how following the rhythms of the seasons and utilising nature’s loose parts supports every area of learning.
The inspector loved this stripped-back, natural approach and commented on how contented and engaged the children were.
Eventually they invited both of us into their group play. We explored the concoctions they were making and investigated the volume and weight of the clay together.
Throughout the day, they transitioned from one thing to another, and we either joined them when invited or observed from the sidelines when they were busy.
By simply going about their normal play, the children showed the inspector not only what they learn, but also how, which was incredibly powerful.
“Children excel in their speech and language development, and literacy is embedded in the curriculum.”
A slow pedagogy creates more space for rich, meaningful conversation. This was true on inspection day as the children chatted away to each other, to me, and to the inspector, demonstrating their expansive vocabulary and understanding.
Written language also features heavily in our everyday experiences. I place books and dedicated reading areas strategically throughout the setting or bring them along when we’re out and about.
The inspector was delighted to see even my youngest children taking themselves off to sit with a book or bringing one over for us to read.
I believe that spontaneity is the key to capturing children’s interests. By stripping back our scheduling, we have opened up many more opportunities to relax with a story as and when the moment takes us.
“The natural world and community have a strong influence in the curriculum.”
One of my biggest concerns was that most of our time is spent out away from the setting, whiling away the hours in the countryside, visiting our vibrant village, and connecting with the huge array of people in our local community. This was obviously something we wouldn’t be able to do on inspection day.
However, we were able to talk about this thoroughly. Although she didn’t experience it first-hand, the inspector spent a lot of time on the floor with the children, asking them questions and listening to them chatting enthusiastically about everything we get up to while showing her examples in our photo album.
My focus is always on active learning. Our play spaces are filled with natural treasures that we bring home from our daily adventures.
Luckily for us, the pupa that we had brought in from the garden chose inspection day to emerge as a beautiful ladybird. The children were able to excitedly show the inspector their knowledge of life cycles and their fascination with minibeasts.
“There is an exceptionally calm, happy, respectful and reassuring atmosphere.”
Because I was able to relax into the inspection by staying true to our comfortable, slow pedagogy, it made space and time for my children to naturally demonstrate their knowledge, skills and creativity as they normally would.
They were calm and confident because I hadn’t thrown them a curveball by making any inauthentic changes. They made wonderful connections with the inspector, inviting her to be part of their journey, sharing their understanding and ideas with her firsthand.
Towards the end, she commented that it all looked so easy. I admitted that by shaking off the urge to cram in activity after activity, I have certainly taken a huge amount of pressure off myself.
That really is the magic of a slow pedagogy. When we allow children the time and space to be curious, the learning opportunities present themselves almost effortlessly.
Katherine Cooling-Smith is an award-winning childminder working in Essex.
