Showing posts with label asking for what we want. Show all posts
Showing posts with label asking for what we want. Show all posts

“May I have a hug?” Natalie asks. Preschool children practice asking for what they want.


Jordan Grace Owens, illustrator

Natalie comes to me, “Robert pushed me when I asked him for a hug! He won’t let me give him a hug.”

This experience prompts a circle conversation to help the children (3 to 6-year-olds) ask for what they want and listening for the response to their asking. I know just the precious object I want to use for this important teaching: a small, beautifully designed and handmade cloth purse or pouch with tie strings. Professor EunSook, an artist and teacher I admire, gave it to me. 

I show it to the children and introduce the “ask for what you want” activity.

“This is the hug pouch. It is special. When I want to give a hug, I take it to the person I want to hug and say, "May I give you a hug?" And then I wait and listen to hear if the person wants a hug or not.

I show the kids how to ask.

“Natalie, will you practice with me?” She agrees. 

"When I bring you the pouch, stand up, look me in the eye, and take it from me. I’m going to ask for what I want. Natalie, you can either say ‘yes’ and hug me or you can say, 'No, not now.’”

I walk over and kneel down so we’re at eye level. I ask and Natalie hugs me.

The children sitting around the circle watch us. Then Harry waves his hand like he’s swimming backstroke.

“Harry, do you want to say something?”

“I don’t want any hugs,” he emphatically states.

“Thanks for telling us, Harry. Saying no is an important skill to learn. Let's practice saying no to hugs. What words can we use?" I ask. 

“No, I’m concentrating,” says Natalie.

“Maybe tomorrow,” says Sam.

“I don’t want hugs now,” Maxwell adds.

“Later,” says Sophia.

“I’m working now. It’s not a good time,” Ashlinn says.

“No. Thanks for asking.”

Harry and I practice. I bring him the hug pouch and ask for hug. He says, “No, but I’ll shake hands.” 

I show the children where the hug pouch goes on the shelf and end with, “If you want a hug and no one is available, the stuffed owl at the peace table takes hugs anytime.”




This is a photograph of the listening or hug pouch used in the "ask for what you want" activity. It was given to me by EunSook Kwon. It is a treasured object made even more special by its use. Later, we used the pouch to ask for other things. Inside are small pieces of paper. Each one is a different request for practice. For example, “Will you sit next to me?” or “Will you hum or sing to me?” The pouch is worn from use.

And owl holds thousands of child hugs.

Originally published 9/30/12


I ask Jane if she liked it when Martha pinched her


ABOUT THE ARTIST
 Magaly Ohika, artist and teacher, 



Here's what happened.

Jane sits in circle clutching her arm, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Martha pinched my arm,” sobs Jane. (Martha wants Jane to move over.)

“Did you like it?” I ask. 

“No,” replies Jane.

I get up and go over to Jane and invite Martha to join us. (I attend to the hurt one first.)

I get on my knees with both girls in front facing each other. I whisper in Jane's ear, “Tell her, ‘Stop! I don’t like it when you pinch my arm.’” I emphasize the words, "Stop, I don't like it".

Jane looks at Martha and says the words. 

“Jane, tell her what you want her to do,” I say. I speak with softness, slow and clear. I help by giving Jane the words to say. I whisper in her ear, “Say, 'Martha, ask me to move over.'” 

She says that.

I scoot over and whisper into Martha’s ear, “Look at Jane and say, ‘I hear you.’”
“I hear you,” says Martha. I continue whispering in her ear, “Say, ‘I’m squished, I need more room. I’m sorry I hurt your arm.’”
Martha tells Jane, and they go back to their place. After circle, I see them doing an activity together.

NOTES
I watch kids pinch, hit, bite, yell, slap, or thump a friend on the head in response to upset. That’s developmentally normal (though irritating). When physically hurting behavior happens, I think of it as helpful information and use it to teach a new relating skill. If Martha was my age, she’d probably say something like, “I’m squished and need more room, can you move over?” and she’d have a good chance of saying it with a confident, kind face. Without experience or knowing what to do, she is more likely to pinch.

Asking “do you like it?” immediately helps Jane focus on her own feelings rather than on the pincher, and connect with her empowering abilities. I read about why it is important to ask the “did you like it” question in Becky Bailey’s book Easy to Love, Difficult to Discipline (94).

Starr's House, 2012. Names of children changed.