I know the phrase should be about cake, but this week I had this mud version ringing in my mind. As I am reflecting on my week I have 3 groups I want to share with you.
The first – wild and daring. A girl triumphantly looks down on a group of boys – I catch her eye and we both know she has challenged their received preconceptions of what girls can do. Another boy, consumed by his ideas, seizes ropes I have hidden and creates a daring swing that I had to be taught when I was training. He is proud when his friends swarm round wanting to have a go on his creation. At times I worry “how is this looking? I’ll never be invited back” then I flinch as I falter by worrying about me, not them. I notice the strength it takes me to stay true to assessing the different types of play, validating what they were exploring and dynamically assessing the risk/benefits, almost second by second. Then I see the look on the TA’s face as her stomach twists in fear as children swarm over trees and others test their strength by pulling to release a rope they hadn’t realised had been tied off. The moment when that wildness spills over, I catch them just in time with a story that relies on their participation. I am relieved. I know I made the right decisions this time but I worry if I will catch a similar group who are equally wild … then I flinch again as I have faltered again and return my attention back to the group.
The second – compliant, listening, responsive to adult direction. Seemingly a perfect group. But there’s no dynamism here. No leaders pushing the boundaries and through this making great inventions. I see the TA’s face bewildered and sad as she realises this happens to be a cohort who aren’t used to mud, who haven’t climbed trees. They need huge encouragement to even sit on a tree let alone attempt to reach their arms up and slide their way up a little. But the few that trust her eventually dare to climb. It is their Mount Everest, and in the moment of reaching their summit, their joy floods over us all. A mini miracle and maybe a moment that ripples with future repercussions that we can only guess at.
The third – a much younger group of pre-school age, free in a wide selection of trees. It’s raining hard, they are fascinated by the mini-lake that is getting bigger throughout the session. They get stuck, they rescue each other, they fall over they scoop their friends up, and they collect endless sticks and branches to throw into the deepening water. They delight with the splashes, the ripples and the sensations of swooshing through the water, running, jumping and yes, more splashing. When one child removes his socks to wring some of the water out of it, we admire how steam rises from his toes on this chilly day. They ebb and flow as different children lead different ideas and investigations with no planning, just curiosity, and our adult plans are quietly put back on the shelf as we follow their lead.

So 3 very different groups that have caused me to ponder disparate thoughts, but I wonder if they are connected somehow:
- I have read that children struggle to be able to do the fine motor skills of writing when their bodies haven’t developed the core strength that comes from running, jumping, climbing and experimenting with just what this amazing vessels of bones and muscle can do. Once read I can never forget it, and I find myself watching each child noticing how their body moves and wondering.
- I am alert for the devastatingly automatic “Oh I can’t do that” … can’t find a stick, can’t get muddy, can’t climb a tree, can’t find a way of believing in my own abilities. I am surprised how many children have this as an automatic response and often don’t realise it.
- When it rains, I ask if we are going to melt, as seriously as I can. Partly it amuses me, but partly I find the action of dismissing my “fear” helps dissolve their programming they have received that rain is bad, mud is bad, don’t do this and don’t do that.
- And I see a correlation with how children deal with mud (and rain), with their level of resilience. Is this because they have been given the freedom to explore and make mistakes rather than an expectation to conform and remain neat and tidy? This is my instinct but is it right to presume when it could be a coincidence. Am I simply seeking evidence to “prove” my theories?
These groups have given me food for thought … and maybe ACTUALLY eating mud is not always brilliant … but it is enough for me to plea …
Please, let there BE mud! Please let them BE muddy!
