Dear Catita… I was very enthusiastic when I received your invitation to write a few words for your blog.
You asked me to talk about sports, books, or autonomy. I confess that of these three topics, the one that captivated me the most was autonomy. :)
I am a physical education teacher, and my whole life has revolved around kids.
I could talk to you about direct blocks and “pass and cut,” or Montessori books, etc., but I will choose the simple autonomy, which is not that simple, dear Catita!
Every day I face the following dilemma at Armazém 4: how can we equip children with the tools that give them enough security so they can take risks and, thus, achieve the much-desired autonomy?
I have a funny story from Armazém 4 that I tell at all parent-teacher meetings at the start of the school year. Shortly after we opened, a mother called to ask what brand of bread we used to make the famous ham and cheese sandwiches for the kids, because her son went to all kinds of bakeries, saying none of them compared to Armazém 4. I smiled and said, “Oh Maria, it’s not about the brand of the bread, it’s the process—because here, Pedrinho makes his own ham and cheese sandwich, and that’s why it tastes so good!” The mother was astonished because her son had just started primary school that year.
Like this, I could give dozens of other examples of how we, parents, in an attempt to support our children, end up stifling their autonomy. This happens not because we are bad parents, but because it’s easier and faster for us to solve their problems and “save time,” but also (and often) because we underestimate children’s abilities, always thinking they can’t do it, without even asking if they want to try.
Simple household tasks, like making the bed every day, helping load the dishwasher, or walking the dog, can become routines from a young age and eventually turn into habits as common as brushing their teeth.
I believe the solution lies in giving children various tasks/activities so they can gradually increase their skills. For example, you wouldn’t ask a 3-year-old to hang laundry, but maybe an 8-year-old could easily fry an egg.
In the past, we grew up in large families, with cousins and grandparents always around, and we gained skills almost by “osmosis” within that “family community.” Today, children have every moment accounted for in a tightly managed schedule, without even being asked if they just want to play.
There’s a funny episode with my children that made me reflect and create a routine that I now do consciously, knowing it’s an important moment in shaping their personalities. I’m talking about the day we tidy up toys to donate; on that day, we spread all the “junk” on the floor and choose what we can/want to give away. Over time, I realized that it was “the family moment,” not because they were sad to give away their toys, not because they had to clean up, but because they simply had “my 100% dedicated attention.” I decluttered and felt good, working on “letting go” and “solidarity,” but gradually I realized the best part was being there... playing with “things” they had forgotten they had, in a quality evening.
But back to autonomy. One day I was criticized for asking my son to go shopping at the supermarket downstairs when he was 5 years old. Obviously, since it was a minimally controlled environment, I created that moment as an opportunity to give him enough confidence to carry out that “grown-up” task. He loved the idea of being able to go buy bananas on his own. He came back beaming with success, and I realized that was the way forward because he immediately asked to do “big errands.” Was it risky? Maybe! But it’s only through risk that children overcome insecurities and fears (or so I believe).
At Armazém 4, we try to provide challenging activities that create new stimuli for the kids. And do you know which one they like the most? Going to “the hill”! Do you know what going to the hill is? It’s climbing a dirt hill with thorns and vegetation. It’s madness. They take a stick to use as a staff, get their shoes muddy, and scratch their legs with the thorns. The more adventurous kids encourage the more cautious ones, and they always come back out of breath, saying, “Rita, we made it to the top, and we weren’t scared!”
If I may, I’ll leave you with two pieces of advice: first, “don’t underestimate your children’s abilities; they can do it, with more or less difficulty.” Second: don’t say “be careful, you’ll fall!” Instead, say, “You can do it; I believe in you!”
