Preschool conundrums

Our babies are three, and that means they can go to a three-year old preschool (‘playschool’) and are beginning their long journey to independence. But which playschool to choose?

At first it was easy – we thought they were ready for some sort of childcare and contacted some of the centres they have been on the waiting list for since they were a few months old, but these were all full (in fact we had dropped off the list because we didn’t call to confirm our continued interest). There was only one playschool that had places, so no decision was involved. This playschool ticked many boxes for me: it’s close, the venue is the same one we went to French Playgroup for a year-and-a-half so would be familiar to the girls, and it’s open for a reasonable number of hours in the day (9.15 to 3.30, unlike some that are only open in the mornings). But what had initially held me back from considering it was that it is a bilingual playschool in German.  The girls have had no exposure to German, and we want them to be bilingual in French. Wouldn’t it be confusing to introduce another language? I didn’t want to over-fill their brains.

We put the girls’ name down for another Steiner-type playschool nearby to start this term but weren’t expecting to get in – after all we are looking for two places on the same day and it seems hard enough to get one. In the meantime I heard a program on the radio about the benefits of multilingualism: stimulating the brain, instilling in children the concept of more than one world view etc – and thought about the fact that we are a multicultural society where half of all Australians are either migrants or the parents of migrants, yet multilingualism is so rare among anglo-Australians like me, and why is there such a suspicious view of the benefits of young children learning more than two languages anyway? A friend whose son went to French Playgroup, attended German Playschool for a term and was now going to French Playschool full-time was enthusiastic about the benefits of multilingualism, or at the very least, exposure to more than two languages at an early age. So I was persuaded. Good for them and good for me too: I’d be able to work four days a week which would reduce  lot of financial strain, give me more options when looking for another job and give me a break from the demands of two toddlers. Phew.

We accepted the places, organised to all attend an orientation, bought the lunchboxes and then the unexpected happened. We were offered places in the alternative playschool nearby.

Not really intending to consider it but thinking it would be polite to show some interest, I asked if we could come and have a look around before deciding. We attended the German orientation first.

The location right next to a pine forest is lovely, and the little wash basins and personalised hooks for bags and face-washers were really cute. They even have inside slippers which the children bring from home and leave in their own little cubbyholes. There was a good mix of free play outside (but no swings or slide), ‘circle time’ with stories and learning in English and German, morning tea, educational craft in English and German, lunch and sleep time in a small room off the main hall on sweet little mattresses with bedding. The centre’s manager, who I know, and some of the teachers were great but I found some not as interested in us or the children as I would have liked. The curriculum seemed excellent and I approved of the two weeks a year without toys where the children are encouraged to use their imaginations and make their own entertainment with bark or sticks, and think about the children in parts of the world who don’t have toys.

The girls followed the activities with interest (though they couldn’t always sustain the concentration to stay in the circle – those baby dolls in the cradle nearby were so enticing!). At play time there was a real divide between the boisterous boys and the girls, and not surprisingly all of the children seemed older. The group contained another set of identical twins: boys from Mongolia whose names translate as ‘bow’ and ‘arrow.’ The group was quite multicultural as the parents are apparently from many different countries.

Then the girls and I went to the other playschool. It really is alternative, but promotes a philosophy that I really like whereby play is at the centre of the learning. They had a rambling garden filled with sculptures (it’s also part of the Stephanie Alexander Kitchen Garden program), sheds containing such delights as child-sized wheelbarrows (the girls loved them!), swings and a slide built over a small hill. The two cottages that house the playschool included fish and turtles and there were chickens outside in the chicken coop. There was a separate library filled with interesting books for reading and discovery. The teacher in charge took us to a bench in the sun outside and explained their routine and philosophy at great length.

The curriculum is inquiry-focused, so within a given theme for the term, the teachers encourage the children to explore, put forward theories and test them. They have music classes once a week and one of the teachers also plays the guitar with them. There is also Spanish once a week (but it wouldn’t be one of the days the girls would be attending). They play outside during morning tea and after lunch regardless of the weather because they want to promote the concept that there is no such thing as good or bad weather, but just clothing appropriate to the conditions.

In passing, the teacher said that the girls would be separated into different classes if they attended the playschool because they liked siblings to develop their own identity and sense of self (isn’t that our decision? Aren’t they a bit young for that, having never been separated?). The teacher encapsulated the school’s theory in practice when one of the children was standing in a doorway we were intending to enter. The girl, aged around four, was struggling to do up the zip of her coat. After waiting a while the teacher asked ‘Can I support you with that?’ In some places a teacher would either do it for the child or ask if they needed help. Supporting the child to reach their potential on the child’s terms and instigation is at the core of the centre’s philosophy.

The girls wandered off to explore the garden while the teacher was telling me about the playschool and they did the same when we had a look around inside. We briefly met a couple of the other teachers: one very young and one motherly – both friendly. We were encouraged to stay as long as we wanted after the tour was finished. I had trouble dragging the girls away. I had one last question before we left.

–          Is it OK that the girls aren’t toilet-trained yet?

Our guide said that they would be happy to take the girls through toilet-training (they do the ‘wee dance’ when they need to go) but that they weren’t licensed for nappy-changing facilities so the girls couldn’t wear nappies to the playschool. On the upside, I thought that it could be useful for the playschool to take on some toilet-training for us. On the downside, I’m not keen on washing pooey clothes.

When we went home we had a real decision on our hands. The girls clearly preferred the alternative playchool and in fact it was better equipped for play and had a great program for small children. We drew up a table and scored both playschools against key criteria: curriculum, toys and outdoor play equipment, promoting creativity and exploring, rapport with the children and with us, commitment to reading, music, cost, proximity, the girls staying together or not, toilet-training versus allowing nappies (the German playschool does). How lucky are we to have such great alternatives to choose between – but the angst, the angst!

In the end it came down to multilingualism. Though quite different, as my friend said whose son had been to the German playschool and knew children who had been to the other, she could see our girls being happy at either. It really did come down to whether we wanted the girls to be exposed to another language or not, and how we valued that. This is an issue of itself and also because we had indicated in our application for French playschool that the girls would be going to German playschool and we were committed to multilingualism. This would not be true for the rest of the year if we chose the other playschool: not only would so doing necessitate a choice not to learn another language, but we would have to give up going to French Playgroup because that is held on Mondays, a day when we had been offered places at the other playschool.

Steve (based on my descriptions) and the girls voted for the alternative playschool. But I chose the German, and Steve agreed to my choice.

I’d like to say it was only because of the language aspect but to be honest I would have been pretty embarrassed to withdraw the girls after having been to the orientation, accepted the place and paid the deposit (remember I know the Manager, in fact I nominated her for a Children’s Week award last year, which she was awarded). I also thought that perhaps we could have our cake and eat it too: I asked if we could be on the waiting list for first term next year, saying that the girls weren’t toilet trained and I thought they might be a bit young for the program for now. This is true too. If they don’t get in to French Playschool then we may send them to both the German one and the alternative one two days a week each.

So the girls started at German Playschool this week, with mum and Heidi attending with them for the first day and Steve the second. They enjoyed it, especially having their own lunchboxes with four compartments and their own school bags. Though they continued to have no interest in playing with other children their own age, they sat at different tables with the other children at lunchtime, slept on their own little beds without complaint, and although Lara cried lying prostrate on the floor when she thought that Steve had left her at one point, Rhea stared down two little girls who were hogging the bridge when she wanted to cross it on her tricycle.

Next week Steve will drop them off.  Their first transition to school will be well underway.

About Isolde

After extensive travel for short periods both inside Australia and overseas, I took a break from my health policy job to travel for two months in Spain, Portugal and Morocco and live for four months in France, three of those in Paris. I'm currently living back in Australia with Steve and our twins Rhea and Lara.