I vividly remember NOT EVER wanting to go to nursery. Each day, as I walked toward my Cornish gaol house on the hill, I'd desperately invent reasons why my mum couldn't take me. I always ended up exactly where I was supposed to be, although I refused to engage in any activities, sitting alone in the reading room, poring over the Lady Bird classic The Magic Porridge Pot. Despite the kindly faces of Mrs Kent and Mrs Whipford encouraging me to join in, I was going to stay where I was. I was quite simply terrified!
It wasn't until my dad quietly told me that IF I went into the Wendy House and tried playing with the other children, he'd buy me a car. I thought he meant a REAL car like his, but was then assured it would be a of the Matchbox variety. This made me reconsider. Maybe, for a Matchbox car, I COULD overcome my fears?
The next day, I hung my bag on the peg, strode straight past the reading room and, for the first time… into the nursery proper. There was the Wendy House, I was going to go in, up the stairs and claim my car.
I shakily climbed the wooden stairs only to discover a handful of kids playing! I forgot my fears and found myself playing with the other children.
When lunchtime came I even managed to sit at the tiny tables with the other kids. Now THIS wasn't the pact I'd made with my dad, but it felt OK and, actually, it felt good. Hang on… am I having fun? I think I might be!
One vivid memory of that day was the beaming faces of my teachers. I'd always thought of them as my gaolers, but now I saw them as warm, kindly custodians of this PLAYHOUSE. They heaped praise on me for being brave. And yes, I did feel brave. What's more, I felt excited to return tomorrow!
The easy option was to stay where I was, wracked with fear and confusion, but their patient encouragement (and the promise of a Matchbox car) was the catalyst to overcoming my fears and realising the joy of nursery life. While I wouldn't call it bribery, my dad knew I needed a tiny nudge toward bravery.
Thirty years later, in Yorkshire, my son was pleading with me not to go to nursery. Well, I didn't promise him a Matchbox car – clearly the teachers in Heptonstall did a better job convincing him it would be fun.
But I think it is important to see things from the child's perspective. The leap from a cosy childhood spent at home into the cauldron of nursery life is a HUGE step for small children.
Each child needs individual encouragement, reassurance and perhaps an occasional Matchbox-sized carrot to help them take those scary, first steps into their academic adventures.
Let's Grow EYFS Educational Resources, led by CBeebies favourite gardener Mr. Bloom and his friends! www.letsgrow.org.uk
