Childhood Explorer Autumn 2014

ChildhoodExplorer

Autumn 2014

Exploring the Lives of Children WorldwideAssociation for Childhood Education International


Childhood Explorer is published quarterly by the Association for Childhood Education International, 1101 16th St., N.W., Suite 300, Washington, DC 20036

Articles published in Childhood Explorer represent the views of the authors and do not necessarily reflect positions taken by the Association for Childhood Education International.

Copyright © 2014 by the Association for Childhood Education International. No permission is needed to reproduce materials for education purposes.

ACEI HEADQUARTERS STAFF:Diane P. Whitehead, Executive DirectorMichelle Allen, Director of OperationsAnne Watson Bauer, Editor/Director of PublicationsBanhi Bhattacharya, Director of Professional Development Emebet G/Micheal, Accounting ManagerOlivia Kent, Communications ManagerDeborah Jordan Kravitz, Production EditorSheri Levin, Member Relations ManagerYvette Murphy, Director of Advocacy and OutreachNana Oppong, Director of DevelopmentDione Walters, Membership AssistantAlyson Zimbler, Development Coordinator

Photography Credits:cover photo: llaszlo/shutterstockp. 4: Hurst Photo/shutterstockp. 6: Ermolaev Alexander/shutterstockp. 9: Tukaram Karve/shutterstockp. 11: Dubova/shutterstockp. 15: Ian MacLellan/shutterstockp. 17: Noppasin/shutterstockp. 18: Jordi C/shutterstockp. 21: courtesy of authorsp. 22: Zurijeta/shutterstockpp. 23-25: courtesy of authorsp. 26: hikrcn/shutterstockpp. 28-29: wavebreakmedia/shutterstock

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ChildhoodExplorer

Autumn 2014 Vol. 1, No. 4


Contents

6 High-Stakes Testing in Sweden: John’s Story

9 Gender and Identity in Bangalore, India

11 Reflections on the Lives of Children With Disabilities

14 Poverty and Resilience: Centro Escolar Distrito Italia in El Salvador

18 Indigenous Knowledge in Our Nigerian Tent School

22 Children Shaping Their Identities as Readers and Writers: A Day in the Life of Children in Transition to School

26 From the Ashes: How an Ethiopian School Boy Became a UN Worker and Humanitarian

28 Finding Maria’s Voice

4 Childhood Explorer

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Global CitizenshipAs the world becomes smaller, we hear the phrase “global citizenship” often in discussions about how to ensure a brighter future for all. But what does it mean to be a global citizen? And how can we support our children in their development as global citizens?

At its core, global citizenship is the ability to empathize with people in different areas and circumstances, and to respect and advocate for the rights of all peoples. It should be cultivated in us all, but especially in children—who are the stewards of the future. A child’s education should reach beyond lessons in reading, writing, and the traditional subjects. Children need to learn compassion, critical thinking, and global awareness in order to successfully function in today’s world.

Global citizenship requires critical thinking about the world around us, and encourages us to challenge misinformation and damaging stereotypes. Therefore, it is important for parents and teachers to show children what life is like in other environments, and to help them recognize and appreciate the many different ways people live, learn, and work. Children should be taught to treat others with respect and recognize others’ feelings and beliefs as valuable. Adults can foster this sensibility by exposing children, in age-appropriate ways, to different cultures and practices, explaining that this new perspective is not better or worse than what they are familiar with—just different.

As they develop into global citizens, children begin to see themselves as individual members of a larger whole, and understand the effects of their actions on others. Every day, children witness the value of working together: when they’re helping with family chores, playing games, or working on school projects. Global citizenship education takes the concept of shared responsibility and positions it on an international scale.Through the process of learning to be global citizens, children will understand that they can make a difference in the world. Each person has agency over his or her behavior, and can work to fight injustice. This is a powerful outlook for children, and it encourages child participation. Educators and parents can work to ensure that children develop a sense of responsibility and stewardship over the Earth and its seven billion inhabitants.

While children may be exposed to the world’s tragedies and misfortunes as they pursue global citizenship, the concept encourages a positive outlook on the future. Armed with the compassion, understanding, and adaptability that come with being a global citizen, they will look for solutions to the world’s problems and feel confident in their ability to help. The goal of an education in global citizenship is to encourage connections rather than fissures and, via those connections, to find common ground.


In Sweden, students’ scores on international tests like PISA and TIMSS have been decreasing year by year. In 2012, the Minister of Education at the time

argued that the poor international test results were putting the Swedish economy at risk, and he decided to reintroduce national tests in mathemat-

ics and Swedish for younger children as a way to overcome this “failure.”

High-stakes standardized testing has become the central tool for education

reform and regulation in many countries.

PISA (The Programme for International Student Assessment) is a triennial international survey that aims to evaluate education systems worldwide by testing the skills and knowledge of 15-year-old students.

TIMSS (Trends in International Mathematics and Science Study) measures trends in mathematics and science achievement at grades 4 and 8.

High-Stakes Testing in Sweden:By Eva Silfver

Umeå University, Sweden

John’s Story

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Our research interest focused on everyday classroom activities and how children are affected by the new testing regime. We wanted to see how children reacted to and talked about the testing situation; that is, we wanted to hear the children’s own stories. The national maths tests are, in fact, several short tests spread over a time period of eight weeks. We have found that teachers put much effort into de-dramatizing the tests so that children do not feel too much stress because of the tests. This did not always succeed and the following story from West-bay Primary School is an example of how children are responding to the testing climate.

West Bay Primary School is a municipal school located in a middle-size university city in the northern part of Sweden. The school building is also used for a before- and after-school program. On the day I visited the school, an after-school party for the children had been planned. West Bay has approximately 200 pupils divided across grades 1 to 6. It is an ethnically diverse school; eight different first languages are spoken. In the grade 3 classroom I visited, a middle-aged female teacher taught 24 children (10 girls and 14 boys).

Once you enter the school, you pass through a room where children keep their jackets and outdoor shoes (Sweden is a cold country most days of the year). This day, when passing through this room, I overheard three boys discussing the maths tests, specifically what would happen if one failed the tests. John said, “I know. That happened to Peter’s brother last year! And he had to stay one more year in grade 3!” The boys agreed that was a frightening scenario. Just imagine having to leave your friends and take the 3rd grade all over again with the small kids who now are in grade 2.

I continued on my way to the classroom. As in many primary school classrooms, this one had a homelike atmosphere, furnished with bookshelves and small cupboards alongside walls decorated with drawings and photos showing pupils’ work. The pupils’ desks were organized in straight rows, two and two together, with the teacher’s desk at the front.

The teacher introduced the tests by describing the test procedure. She explained difficult words in the test and emphasized that the pupils would have to fill out the test carefully because she needed to understand exactly how everyone was thinking while they were solving the problems. Before the test began, the desks were moved apart, pens sharpened, books put away, and materials organized. The teacher handed out the test, saying, “Take your time! You don’t have to hurry!”

Even though no talking was allowed during the tests, I noticed a lot of communication. Children were whispering and sighing, and many things were being communicated through children’s body language. For instance, when the children finished their tests, they sometimes made gestures indicating relief, happiness, or victory, indicating that they had reached the finish line. Charles stretched out his arms in a gesture of victory when the teacher picked up his test and allowed him to leave the classroom. Oliver raised his arms, exclaimed “Yes!,” and did a little dance while still sitting in his chair. He gave his test sheet to the teacher and left the classroom.

John was sitting at the back of the classroom; after half an hour, he seemed quite restless. It was clear that he was stuck on a specific task that required him to show his explanation by drawing a figure. Although he loudly expressed that he did not know how to do this, the teacher did not respond. John eventually started to cry as his frustration grew. He rubbed his face with his open hands more and more intensely. After a couple of minutes he cried out loudly, “It’s actually very hard to draw this!” By this time, Allan was handing in his test and he, also, left the classroom. John turned in his chair, looked at the test paper and sighed loudly. After a while,

Three researchers in Sweden worked together over three years (2010-2012) to gather children’s

own stories about the testing situation. Together, they visited eight schools and 22 grade 3 classrooms, videotaping the

testing situations and interviewing all children who wanted to talk to them.


John whispered to Max, who was sitting next to him. The teacher reacted by saying, “Shh.” John rubbed his face with his open hands yet again. The teacher passed him a few times, but left John to himself.

Meanwhile, several other pupils finished their tests. John banged his hand on his desk, turned around, and sat with his back to the desk. Most of the pupils had already left the classroom. After a while, John turned back to his desk and started rubbing his face again. This went on for several minutes. The teacher said, “If you think a problem is difficult, just leave it and start with the next problem instead.” John looked around the classroom and banged his fist on the desk and rubbed his eyes. Mary, sitting in front of John, turned around and looked at him. The time allotted for the test was coming to an end.

The teacher asked everyone to stop writing: “Now it’s time to finish.” John had his elbows on the table and, with hands tightly clasped, he shook his upper arms back and forth, sighing loudly and collapsing over the desk. “We will put all your tests in a special pile and then you can continue on Monday,” the teacher said. John cried out, “I have to go on working with the most difficult problem?” He started to cry, first silently and then louder and louder. The other children who were still in the room stopped and stared at John, who was now crying desperately. The teacher said to John that it would be better on Monday when he was not so tired. John said that he wasn’t tired.

He said he was “in fact very rested.” He went on crying and explained that the test was “really hard and really tough” and that “You cannot even get help,” and ”Now, I have to think of this problem the whole weekend!”

After John calmed down and left the classroom, I stayed on for a while talking to the teacher. She said, “It’s good that you had to experience this situation with John, because I believe it reflects how many of the children actually feel.” I said goodbye to the teacher and walked into the room with the coats and shoes. In one of the corners I could hear voices and someone crying. It was John. I hesitated, but decided not to disturb the boys. They were talking about John’s crying, but also about the after-school party that had, by then, already started. John sobbed, saying, “The party is supposed to be fun, but now everyone will ask me why I was crying and then I’ll start to cry again and it will be really embarrassing!” Bob, one of the other boys in the corner, took John’s hand and dragged him into the toilet, saying, “Come on, I’ll help you to wash away your tears!” I could hear the boys turning on the water tap, and Bob encouraging John by saying, “Look! Your eyes only have some small signs of crying left now! No one will see!”

During an interview with John some months later, we talked about the test situation. John first indicated that he and his friends had talked beforehand about the possibility of “flipping out” during the tests. My impression was that this could be a way for John to explain what he supposed I already knew—that he had reacted strongly during the tests. John said he felt embarrassed looking at the video clip where he rubbed his face (I stopped the recording when John started to cry). However, he also said the test asked for too much, thereby positioning himself as a person who resisted a “stupid test,” rather than someone who did not understand how to solve it.

This description provides some insight into the effects of a high-stakes testing environment on children’s emotional well-being. Such effects should be taken into consideration when determining when and how to assess children’s skills and knowledge.

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By Shubhrata DasStudent in the master’s program in education

Azim Premji University, Bangalore, India

I walk to a government-run school nestled in rather quiet environs away from the hubbub of Bangalore. On my way, I pass by a host of “international schools” that enjoy modern facilities and plentiful supplies, yet the school I visit is starving for the basic resources needed for children and teachers alike! During my visits to the school, I was drawn to a 14-year-old girl, Gowri, who shared with me her love for life, her ambitions, and much more. This article captures some of my observations and thoughts about gender, voice, and social identity that emerged during our conversations.

Gender and Identity in Bangalore, India

While my engagement with Gowri led me to insights about modes of thinking, a deeper thought that kept me engaged concerned the specificities of our own voices—how we speak—and questioning why we speak as we do and why we are heard in the ways we are heard. What do we actually mean when we speak about having or not having a “voice”?

Gowri was remarkably joyous in her expression about her life. When expanding on this narrative, placing it in the larger social context, overlapping personal, social, gender, and cultural identities are clear in her voice. Underlying her narrative is a dialogue that centers on the differential social meaning in being a girl, her aspirations, her future, and her notions about power and life.


Gowri’s family is all women—her maternal grandmother, her mother, her younger sister, and herself—as her father left the family when she was a little girl. Her day starts early, at 5 a.m., when she does her household chores and cooks for the family before she gets ready for school. She aspires to be a teacher, to help improve the family’s standard of living. She says, “I want to become a teacher so that we can lead a better life. . . . I can then buy a car and a house and educate my younger sister.” Gowri often enters the school in the company of her little sister; she greets her friends with a beaming smile before she settles down for the cleaning work assigned to her in school.

We talked about her role as a daughter, and about being a girl within the societal framework. She adds that she would want to take responsibility for the family, as there were no sons to do so. She has been raised to believe that it is the son who holds the mantle of the family, while the daughter gets married and goes away. To my question, “What if you get married?,” she quipped to say that she would take her mother along with her. “If I study and become a teacher, then my husband will not have anything against my mother being at home because I will be earning well and I don’t have to depend on him for the expenses and I can take care of my mother.” She was sharing her notion of empowerment through economic independence, which would enhance her status within the family and outside.

Gender is often discussed as a socially constructed paradigm, a social and political process of imprisoning individuals through social categories that determine their economic, political, and gender roles. Everyday school experiences and social interactions seem to highlight the continuities between gender role socialization within the family and community and within the school. At home, Gowri is exposed to ideas about the role and status of girls versus boys—what is considered “gender-appropriate” behavior. At school, these ideas are reinforced through gender segregation in the cleaning work the children do, in seating arrangements, in the games they play, and in teacher-student interactions. A clear demarcation be-tween “us” and “them” was quite evident in our conversa-tions. Her peer interactions were primarily same-sex.

Gowri mentions that she loves her friends and “wants to be loved by others.” Her sense of self and identity seemed to be heavily influenced by how she appeared to the others. This seemed evident as she would repeat things like “When others see us they should know our level!,” “My mother always says that society will disapprove if a girl is too free,” and the like. In this context, one could relate to the concept of role identity. Role identity is the character and the role an individual devises for himself within a particular social position, and constitutes an imaginative view of oneself in that position—often a rather idealized view. A role identity therefore becomes an integral part of an individual’s plans and goals, because gaining recognition of one’s identity in the eyes of others is a driving force of human behavior.

“I think there is no difference between a boy and a girl; . . . they are the same. But I do feel I should have been born as a boy . . . because a boy is allowed to go wherever he wants, but as a girl there are so many restrictions.”

We have expectations about the ways a female or male can speak and do things. Gowri expresses, “My mother used to tell me that if there was a boy at home, then we wouldn’t have to live a life like this. . . . Because everybody listens when a boy raises his voice and says something but when we do it, they say things like ‘Girls should not be loud.’ ”

This, to me, is deeper than just silencing the voice. So what do we actually mean when we say that someone has “no voice”? I find the claim that the oppressed cannot speak to be bizarre. Persons oppressed by gender expectations do and can speak, but there is a failure of reception and recognition that is based on gender expectations.

Thus, an individual’s construction of identity is often not a personal quest, but rather is strongly influenced by the structures of the society. Race, class, gender, and culture are all social influences that have an effect on the construction of an identity. Although a wide range of identities are available, social structures such as gender, culture, and class tend to impose constraints and limits on the choices an individual can make.

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By Mojdeh Bayat, DePaul University

A large population of children with disabilities around the world is essentially invisible to the larger society. In this essay, I share my personal reflections about the realities for children with disabilities in the two countries of Cote d’Ivoire and Iran.

Reflections on the Lives of Children With Disabilities


Six years ago, I began working in the Western African country of Cote d’Ivoire to study the lives of children with disabilities and advocate for their education and human rights. My interest in the field of disabilities in developing countries is related to my personal and professional identity. I was born in Iran, a developing country in the Middle East. I am the parent of a child, now a young adult, with severe autism. I am also an educator and scholar dedicated to studying disabilities and related educational issues. Finally, I have lived most of my adult life in the United States, where I received my higher education and raised my children. Thus, my personal identity is also intermixed with that of a Western-educated professional.

My son was diagnosed with severe autism before he was 3 years old. His diagnosis motivated me to pursue higher education and an academic career in the field of child development and special needs education and intervention. Gradually, my work extended to research and advocacy in developing countries. I have often wondered how my son’s life and that of my family’s would have been different had I raised him in Iran or in Cote d’Ivoire. Below are brief descriptions, based on my observations and research, of what life can be like for a child with a disability in both of those countries.

Growing Up With a Disability in Cote d’IvoireIf you walk the streets of Abidjan, one of the largest cities and the economic center of Cote d’Ivoire, you might come across one or two individuals with physical disabilities who are begging in the streets for money or food. Other than that, you would seldom see a child or an adult with any kind of physical or intellectual disability. Yet, if you speculate about the possible life experiences for child with a disability, you might conclude that begging in the streets is not the worst possible outcome.

In Cote d’Ivoire today there are no public programs for prevention, identification, or intervention for children with disabilities, yet estimates indicate that a significant number of children growing up in Cote d’Ivoire have some kind of cognitive or intellectual disability due to

poverty and lack of appropriate nutrition, education, and health resources. Although some local celebrities and television personalities have begun to raise public awareness about children with disabilities, such as those with autism, these children are generally an invisible segment of the society.

The educated public refers to children with any kind of cognitive disability as “les enfants handicapés”—handicapped children; the general public calls these children “snake children.” The label “snake child” comes from a cultural view of intellectual disability that has its roots in traditional African religions and animism. African regional traditions are dominant in many people’s daily lives and views. In these traditional worldviews, different types of spirits, such as ancestral, earth, sky, water, and animal spirits, play elemental roles in creating harmony in the world. From the perspective of the Ivorian culture, a child with a disability exchanged his human spirit with that of a snake while in the mother’s womb. They may perceive the “snake child” as having an evil spirit inside that will harm the family and the community. They may believe that such a child should be made to go back to its true “snake identity.”

A child with autism, for example, may manifest specific behavioral characteristics, such as hand flapping, body rocking, or other repetitive and ritualistic behaviors. Such behaviors would inspire stronger convictions in the layperson that the child should be feared. Because the community fears the evil spirit of a child with a disability, it is therefore not uncommon that in small villages and communities, relatives and family members pressure parents of such a child to kill or abandon him for the good of the family. If a child is fortunate, he may be allowed to live in a community and be left alone, but only along with some reservations, fear, or repulsion from neighbors and relatives.

The majority of families have no access to schools, programs, or services to help children with disabilities, and these children are not included in regular schools or in the community. A very small number of charity organizations and special schools around the country,

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devoted to the care of orphans and other children who are abandoned, do serve children with disabilities. These organizations seldom provide services beyond basic care or teaching self-help skills. Families of little means who have children with a disability may turn over the care of their children to one of these orphanages or institutions, and they are not likely to return to claim the children. Thus, a child with a disability might grow up and die in an institution.

Growing Up With a Disability in Iran Many disabilities are recognized and identified in Iran. Autism has been formally known and diagnosed in Iran since 2010. Private autism intervention therapies (speech, behavior, and special education) are available for elite families of wealth. However, the majority of families have access to only a small number of public educational organizations, religious charity organizations, and intervention services for children with any kind of disability.

The public equates any kind of physical or intellectual disability (including autism) with disease and illness. Children with disabilities are called “Ma’lool,” ill or handicapped, or “Aghab oftadeh,” retarded. Being a Middle Eastern country with an Islamic tradition, almost all disability awareness programs in Iran focus on encouraging people to show loving kindness toward children and adults with disabilities. Helping such children is considered a religious duty and an act of piety. Nevertheless, the majority of the public has very little exposure to these children, and regards them with some curiosity intermixed with pity. In public places, children who have stereotypical behaviors or specific facial or physical anomalies might be met with curiosity at best and with repulsion and humiliation at worst by children and others who have no understanding of exceptionalities. Therefore, families might keep children at home to protect them from uncomfortable public encounters.

A middle class family may opt to put their child in a charity special school or institution. However, teachers in these schools do not necessarily have any specialized

training or higher education beyond some introductory courses. Therefore, it is not expected that a child with a disability who grows up in such an institution would learn any useful skills to help him become an independent or productive member of his community. It is common for a child with a disability to live most of his life away from society—in an institution or at home in isolation.

Further ReflectionsThese observations are a sobering reminder of the differences in how children’s rights are valued around the world. My son was educated in specialized classrooms that were available at public elementary and high schools. His teachers were special educators and therapists who were well trained in autism and related disorders. To the extent practical and possible, he was included and participated in activities at his schools and in local communities along with his peers. Since graduating from high school two years ago, he has worked in an integrated day program, where he continues to learn useful skills and is a productive and contributing member at his workplace. When appropriate, he has participated in civic activities, such as voting in local and national elections. He has enjoyed all aspects of a healthy social life with support from his family members and publicly funded community programs. Although he has received his share of curious looks and some negative reactions, he is generally known, respected, and accepted by people in the community as a person with equal rights. Yet, his experience growing up in the United States could have been different depending upon his family’s socioeconomic status and ability to advocate, resources in the community dedicated to awareness, and follow-up.

In closing, it should not be forgotten that children with disabilities, like other children of the world, are entitled to basic human rights—to education and inclusion in society. Educating children with disabilities can open doors to many of their untapped potentials, improving their quality of life and that of their families. At the very least, it builds the basic foundation of an inclusive and respectful human society.


Today, more than half of the world’s children are growing up in families living below the international poverty line of $2 per day1.

Individuals growing up in chronic poverty are exposed to poverty over the course of their lifespan, and often pass this on to their children.2 For chronically poor families, income is not the only factor holding them back. Their health is often compromised, they lack adequate education and food, they have poor housing, and many lack access to quality health care.2 Children growing up in chronically poor conditions are often at risk for increased child abuse and neglect, exposure to domestic violence, exposure to crime, social emotional and behavior problems, limited educational achievement, disease, and drug and alcohol abuse.3 Most who grow up under such conditions will perpetuate the cycle of poverty due to the absence of alternatives.

Poverty and ResilienceCentro Escolar Distrito Italia

in El SalvadorBy Roseanne L. Flores, Hunter College of the City University of New York

How can we help chronically poor families and their children live, cope, and develop under such stressful conditions? One approach is to help families and children draw on their strengths—to build resilience. According to the American Psychological Association, resilience is the ability to adapt to one’s circumstances in the face of stressful events.4 Research demonstrates that while many factors contribute to resiliency, supportive relationships with family and friends are very important. Other components of resiliency involve being able to set

and accomplish realistic goals, having a positive view of oneself and a certain level of confidence in one’s ability to succeed, being able to communicate, and, finally, being able to manage one’s emotions.4 That being said, because people handle stressful life events differently, some individuals might use one factor more than another and we should not conclude that all factors are necessary in order for one to be resilient. Furthermore, resilience is not innate and not solely found in adults. It can be learned and taught to children.

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The American Psychological Association5 has suggested the following tips for helping children develop resiliency:

• Helpingthemmakefriendsanddeveloppositiverelationships with friends, family, and other adults in their environment

• Showingthemhowtomakeconnectionswithothersby having them help children who are suffering more than themselves

• Helpingthemtoestablishroutines• Havingthemtakebreaksandhelpingthemtoshift

their attention away from their problems• Teachingthemtheimportanceoftakingcareoftheir

mental and physical health by reserving time for play and other types of recreation

• Teachingthemhowtosetgoalsandthenhelpingthem to attain them

• Providingthemwithwaystodevelopapositiveself-image and engage in problem solving, frequently reminding them of how they and their family might have handled obstacles in the past

• Helpingthemtoremainhopefulinspiteofproblems and hardships while providing them with opportunities to draw on their strengths

• Supportingandencouragingthemastheycometo understand that change is a part of growth and development.

These strategies, when taken together, can be used to help chronically poor children grow and develop under adverse conditions.

Another method equally as important is to hold nations responsible for protecting children’s rights. According the Convention on the Rights of the Child, children must be free to develop to their full potential. Article 6 speaks to the child’s right to live and the government’s responsibility to ensure their survival and healthy development.6 Article 24 addresses the child’s right to quality health care, nutritious food, safe environments, and safe drinking water.6 Article 26 focuses on the child’s right to obtain help from the government if their families are poor.6 Article 27 asserts that children have a right to a standard of living that meets their physical and mental

needs, particularly with respect to food, clothing, and housing.6 Articles 28 and 29 address the child’s right to a free primary education that will allow them to reach their highest potential by developing their personalities, talents, and skills.6 And finally, Article 31 addresses the child’s right to play, relax, and participate in the arts and other cultural and recreational activities.6 Having said that, in order for the goals of the Convention to be met, governments must be committed to addressing and alleviating the conditions that have led to chronic poverty in their countries. While the purpose of the first Millennium Development Goal was to eradicate poverty, and progress has been made toward that goal, to ensure the continued growth and development of their children, nations will need to develop policies and programs that are sustainable beyond 2015 and that will continue to lift families out of chronic poverty.7 Moreover, given the changing global economy and the shifting of wealth, governments will need to work toward establishing partnerships and collaborations with communities, NGOs, businesses, and other international organizations in order to lift families out of poverty.

One Country’s Solution: The Case of the Centro Escolar Distrito Italia in El Salvador Recent statistics have demonstrated that El Salvador is one of the most dangerous countries in the world, with homicide the leading cause of death.8 The city of Tonacatepeque is known for its crime, violence, and gang activity. Children growing up in this community have difficulty playing and engaging in other recreational activities for fear of being assaulted or abused, as gang violence is prevalent. One bright beacon of light in the community, however, is the Centro Escolar Distrito Italia.9 The Centro Escolar Distrito Italia provides children with traditional education as well as workshops in the arts, gardening, and other non-traditional areas of education. The goal of the school is to provide children and adults with a safe space where they can be free to explore their environments, build their self-esteem, establish relationships, develop their strengths, and reduce their stress, while simultaneously developing skills that will allow them to become productive citizens and future leaders in their communities.9

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The Centro Escolar Distrito Italia, in partnership with the International Brain Education Association, is in the process of carrying out a brain education pilot project that will focus on helping children and teachers develop their potential by helping them understand how the integration of their physical and mental health, social-emotional state, and cognitive functioning affect brain development. The premise being that positive brain development is associated with positive outcomes across all dimensions of human development.9 Preliminary results from this partnership have already begun to show that teachers are feeling less stressed. Moreover, the results have also shown that the children are reporting being able to work together with their peers to achieve their goals and have begun to think positively. In short, both teachers and children have learned to draw on their strengths and establish relationships to reduce stress and increase self-esteem—they have learned to become resilient in the face of poverty and hardship.

In summary, the Centro Escolar Distrito Italia provides an excellent model that has demonstrated how one school, in partnership with a private entity, can provide a program that fits the needs of a community and that can be brought to scale once it is evaluated to serve the needs of many more children, families, and communities. Furthermore, the Centro Escolar Distrito Italia provides a clear example of how government can partner with

private businesses and communities to ensure that children living in chronically poor communities can grow and develop and reach their full potential, thereby breaking the cycle of poverty.

Notes:1 Ortiz, I., Daniels, L. M., & Engilbertsdottir, S. (2012). Child poverty and inequality: New perspectives. New York, NY: UNICEF. 2 Chronic Poverty Research Centre. (2011). Tackling chronic poverty (Policy Brief No. 28). Retrieved from www.chronicpoverty.org/uploads/publication_files/PB28.pdf3 American Psychological Association. (n.d.). Effects of poverty, hunger, and homelessness on children and youth. Retrieved from American Psychological Association www.apa.org/pi/families/poverty.aspx4 American Psychological Association. (n.d.). Road to resilience. Retrieved from American Psychological Association www.apa.org/helpcenter/road-resilience.aspx5 American Psychological Association. (n.d.). Resilience guide for parents and teachers. Retrieved from American Psychological Association www.apa.org/helpcenter/resilience.aspx6 UNICEF. The Convention on the rights of the child. Survival and development rights: The basic rights to life, survival and development of one’s full potential. Retrieved from www.unicef.org/crc/files/Survival_Development.pdf7 Ban Ki Moon. (2007). Children and the millennium development goals: Progress toward a world fit for children. New York, NY: UNICEF. 8 Overseas Security Advisory Council. (2013). El Salvador 2013 crime and safety report. United States Department of State Bureau of Diplomatic Security. 9 Pastor, I. (2011). Power against violence: Brain education comes to Tonacatepeque, El Salvador. Brain World Magazine. Retrieved from http://brainworldmagazine.com/power-against-violencebrain-education-comes-to-tonacatepeque-el-salvador/


by Temitayo Ogunsanwo, Rasidat Folasade Sulaiman, and Victoria Oluwatoyin Alamu,Kwara State University, Malete, Nigeria

Indigenous Knowledge in Our Nigerian Tent School

Autumn 2014 19

We saw a need in that community, and so decided to provide a mobile tent school for them. The school needed to be mobile because the university had re-cently acquired the community land and the people were soon going to be be moved to another location. A mobile school could move with them, and was therefore the best option.

Our Tent SchoolThree university faculty members approached the Gaa Al-anu community to determine if they needed a school; we knew we needed their cooperation if we were to teach their children. The village head and other male members of the community described their unsuccessful efforts to get the state government and local government author-ity to provide a school for them. The authorities may have denied their requests because the university had acquired their land, but they did not realize this as they were non-literate themselves. We asked the villagers to

build us a mud classroom building; they eagerly agreed to do so, but asked for our assistance in roofing the class-room because they could not afford to buy corrugated iron roofing materials. Ultimately, they could still not af-ford to build the mud classroom but were able to put up a shed and we provided the roofing sheets.

The school opened on 11 November 2013, serving 18 children between the ages of 2 and 8 years who had never been to school. We employed and trained a teach-ing assistant from the adjacent community and made monthly contributions to pay her salary and provide the children with some very necessary materials. By using a multi-age grouping approach, all the children could be accommodated in the space provided. Students from the university also took turns teaching the children. The cur-riculum was activity-based and encouraged children to learn from their environment using the available materi-als around them.

Having noticed some children wandering around our campus

at Kwara State University in Malete, Nigeria, on school days, we discovered that they were coming from the nearby settlement of Gaa Alanu. The community of about 300 inhabitants had no school and no literate adults. Some of the children did attend a school more than 3 kilometers away; they walked to the school in groups to avoid being kidnapped. The younger ones would stay at home because it was too far for them to walk, especially given the scorching heat of the afternoon sun.


The children attend school from 8:00 a.m. until 12.00 noon for five days a week (Monday through Friday). They usually learn about the things around them—cows, sheep, different plants and animals in the settlement—and they sing songs and recite poems about things in their environment. Children who tended cattle asked for permission from their parents for others to watch and learn from them while those who made charcoal demon-strated the process for others to watch.

Community Charcoal Making We requested permission to bring some university stu-dents to witness a child’s charcoal-making skills. A par-ticular child, Tor, who makes charcoal on a regular basis, agreed to demonstrate how he and the other children make charcoal after school hours. On the day designated for the demonstration, we thought we would find Tor and his father. We were surprised to see all of our tent school children already taking part in the activity. Making char-coal is usually a communal work that requires input from every child in the community, regardless of who owns the charcoal. They all enjoyed the task and were running back and forth in the bush to fetch leaves to cover the wood that was being used to make the charcoal. Some of the children used big knives to cut the leaves, while others watched and offered helpful comments. The young girls were jumping around but kept their eyes on the charcoal and made sure they fetched various items needed for the project. When it was time to make the fire, everybody brought one dry stick that was allowed to burn for a long time before it was inserted under the heap of wood, leaves, and soil that produced the charcoal.

We asked questions as the children made the charcoal, but they could not answer them. We asked why they needed to arrange the wood in a particular way, why they first had to cover the wood with fresh leaves, and why the wood and fresh leaves had to be covered with soil. The parents provided the answers, giving us an opportunity to let the parents know the importance of allowing the chil-dren to ask questions and to explain actions to children step by step. During the charcoal making, we explained the procedure to the children and asked them questions to find out whether they understood what was going on.

On the second day, as the wood and fresh leaves were being covered with soil, one girl called the attention of an older boy to a place that was left uncovered. It was a very small opening, but the older boy quickly thanked the girl for her observation and immediately filled up the opening with soil. When asked why it was necessary to fill up the space, the girl just said if it was not filled up the charcoal will not turn out well; the older boy said it would turn to ashes. We explained that the wood should be al-lowed to burn slowly in order to form charcoal, and that the fresh leaves are needed to cover the wood in order to provide moisture and thus prevent rapid burning, which would result in ashes rather than charcoal.

Children possess indigenous knowledge that can help them solve problems even without formal education. However, learning how to employ scientific process skills will help them gain more from their everyday activities and appreciate their indigenous knowledge. We went back to school the following day to discuss our new find-ings. The children were able to recount their experiences and explain why the fresh leaves had to be placed on the wood and why the soil had to completely cover the wood. The teacher trainees who went with us decided to engage the children in activities to explore how different things burn under different conditions.

The children are learning many things about different types of fuel and the advantages of each. They all use firewood and occasionally kerosene for cooking; the charcoal is made for commercial purposes rather than their own use. The children who make the charcoal eventually sell it to earn money, which they use to buy chickens. The chickens are also being raised for sale; if they make enough money selling the chickens, they will buy a sheep and ultimately a cow. Every child is there-fore interested in making charcoal.

The university will be working with the Gaa Alanu com-munity on a project to make fuel from human and animal waste. The children will be learning about alternate fuels and efforts to reduce the deforestation that results from the use of trees as fuel. Together, we will be sharing and expanding our knowledge and skills.

Autumn 2014 21

Charcoal Making

Tent School


Children Shaping Their Identities as Readers and Writers:

A “Day in the Life” of Children in Transition to School

by Catherine Ann Cameron, University of British Columbia and University of New Brunswick, Canada; Anne Kathryn Hunt, University of New Brunswick, Canada; Sara Pezzica, University of Florence, Italy; Lynda Phillips, Douglas College, Canada; Rachel Heydon, Western University, Canada; and Kristiina Kumpulainen, University of Helsinki, Finland

Autumn 2014 23

Penelope“I! CAN! READ! BY! MYSELF!!!” This triumphant pronouncement signals 5-year-old Penelope’s delight with her identity as an independent reader: a newly text-literate person. Penelope is a kindergarten student living in an urban community in eastern Canada. She lives with her mother, a dance studio owner; her father, a carpenter; and her 3- and 9-year-old sisters, Flora and Pippa. During her filmed day, she spends significant periods of time at school reading and writing under her kindergarten teacher’s directive tutelage—the teacher instructs authoritatively to correct expression of content and textual format. Penelope also participates in music lessons after school, where her piano teacher makes explicit instructional references—providing the chance for reflection and observation of the similarities and differences between musical and linguistic notations. Just before bedtime, Penelope is filmed spontaneously reading a children’s book to her mother and sisters.

The approximately 15-minute family-reading-session includes many dialogic negotiated turns of exchange—moving toward a consensus of narrative understanding regarding a complex story line—and maternal instructional interventions—observing textual rhymes as good clues to decoding and punctuation conventions.

SiSi, an Indo-Canadian 5-year-old, lives in a western Canadian suburb in a large multi-family household. After school during his day in November, he writes Christmas cards (although his own family does not celebrate Christmas) to give to some of his best friends at school. His mother oversees this activity with a directive eye, offering corrections when needed. Like Penelope, Si spends much time at school reading and writing. However, this home writing project is particularly exciting

The authors are currently working on an international “Day in the Life” project, filming one

full day in the life of children as they transition from home to school. They have filmed children in two Canadian provinces, in Italy, and in Finland.

Their project captures, in real time, children shaping their identities as early readers and writers. The children spontaneously demonstrate their literate

identities to others, and the responses from others contribute to the healthy development of their newly acquired skills.


for him, as he is choosing the recipients of his cards. His mother reduces the challenge by directing his writing, recommending words she knows he can readily write: “F.r.o.m. Si’!” Si writes greetings on three cards to his personal satisfaction before moving on to other playful afterschool activities.

SarahSarah, an Indo-Canadian girl, reads a primer to her mother, a community health nurse, after driving with her older sister Emily to their local multicultural community center in a large western Canadian city for her music lesson. While Emily has her lesson, Sarah sits on a hallway bench reading to her mom for 10 minutes. Although people pass by, they in no way distract Sarah from the captivating task at hand. Her mother is encouraging, both dialogic and instructional, that is, entering into exchanges about the content of the story and also inserting comments about textual conventions. Sara seems most delighted to be “entertaining” her mother by reading a good storybook to while away the time.

AliAli, age 5, and his 10-year-old brother Mohammad, live in a small eastern Canadian capital city. They have recently arrived in Canada from Iran. His mother Emma studies English during much of the late afternoon, leaving the boys to play games that are mostly orchestrated by Mohammed. Before withdrawing to her English studies, Emma, an early childhood educator, sits on a pillow in the boys’ room to read a picture counting book with Ali, drawing careful attention to the English vocabulary of the story but contextualizing her instructional elaborations in Farsi. Ali decides to add value to the session by getting a

piece of paper and writing the numbers as they appear in the story. He asks for help only when he really feels he needs it and he praises his mother for the “8” he asked her to write, giving a resounding “Wow . . . so good” in respect for her well-crafted handwriting.

MarcoSix-year-old Marco, a 1st-grade student in Tuscany, is writing in a personal events diary that is commonly used by Italian children to record homework. He sits at the dinner table while his mother prepares the family meal. Earlier that day, Marco had fallen at school and his parents were summoned to help evaluate his condition. Given that the wound was not severe, his parents returned home and Marco returned quite promptly to his school activities. At home, Marco’s mother, who emphasized in her interview with us her desire for her children to be able to express and explore emotions, suggests that he write about the accident. Leaning across the table she prompts, “Are you fine?” “Are you feeling worried?” Marco’s mother prescribes a personal narrative, suggesting both genre properties and potential content. Marco writes “Yes” and “No” in his diary in response to these directive queries, showing a willingness, although cursory, to satisfy his mother.

Autumn 2014 25

NoraIt is the end of her 1st-grade day at the same Tuscan school that Marco attends. After the family dinner and showers, 6-year-old Nora and her older brother Sandro are in the sitting room sharing story-reading time. Mother starts to read the book Aristocats. Nora asks, “May I read?” Nora is confident in her capacity to read and wants to demonstrate and practice this. Her mother expresses doubt, but Nora is insistent: “I can read!” Although the mother agrees, she is still not convinced, asking, “Don’t you prefer that I keep reading?” Here, Nora, torn between filial respect and pride in reading, softly whispers, “No.” Her mother then passes her the book and Nora starts reading slowly while her mother and Sandro listen. The ritual of book reading before bedtime plays a central role in the life of this family.

ResourcesGillen, J., & Cameron, C. A. (Eds.). (2010). International

perspectives on early childhood research: A day in the life. Houndmills, England: Palgrave Macmillan.

Heath, S. B. (1983). Ways with words: Language, life, and work in communities and classrooms. Cambridge, England: Cambridge University Press.

Heydon, R. (2014). Learning at the ends of life: Children, elders, and literacies in intergenerational curricula. Toronto, Canada: University of Toronto Press.

Kumpulainen, K., & Mikkola, A. (2014). Boundary crossing of discourses in pupils’ chat interactions during computer-mediated collaboration. Learning, Culture, and Social Interaction, 3, 43-53.

Pinto, G., Accorti Gamannossi, B., & Cameron, C. A. (2008). Joint book reading: Socialization of literacy in cultural perspective. In S. Salvatore, J. Valsiner, S. Strout-Yagodzynski, & J. Clegg (Eds.), Yearbook of idiographic science (Vol. 1, pp 287-306). Rome, Italy: Firera & Liuzzo Group.

Sameroff, A. (2010). A unified theory of development: A dialectic integration of nature & nurture. Child Development, 81(1), 6-22.

Separately and taken together, the vignettes illustrate the children’s emerging confidence and sense of satisfaction as they acquire

increasing facility with print texts. The children’s reading and writing are purposeful and pleasurable as they connect with family members

in literacy events that take on the status of family-life ritual. Positive adaptations, like identifying as a reader and the family’s support during such critical transitions, can help isolate core aspects of positive human

development. They also remind us how literacy practices are imbued with and buoyed by the strength of relationships. Our international

ecological study offers a unique exploration of young children’s strengths as they transition from home to school. One aspect of this

transition, as seen with all the children above, is a progression toward print literacy, a crucial school-life milestone that can be both daunting

and exhilarating for young children and their families.


From the Ashes: How an Ethiopian School Boy Became a UN Worker and Humanitarian

by Rachel Brady, Books For Africa

Autumn 2014 27

His grandmother recognized Asratie’s hunger for learn-ing. Each day, she would give him little bits of old news-paper and magazine clippings, which had been used as packaging for sugar and other food products at the mar-ket. He would eagerly examine the text on each scrap, practicing his reading. When he was done, his grand-mother would whisk the scraps away, for she needed them to start her cooking fire. Other than his grandmoth-er’s prayer book, fashioned out of goatskin, those scrap papers were the only reading material in the house.

One day, a certain piece of paper caught Asratie’s eye. On it, he saw a picture of the United Nations Headquarters in New York. Something about the building entranced him. The next day, Asratie visited the small village library to look up information about the United Nations and the Organization of African Unity. As he read about the UN, he built a dream—if he worked very hard in school, he would one day work there.

He did just that.

Asratie Teferra went on to work for the World Food Program and UNICEF in Ethiopia. In 1996, he came to the United States through a Diversity Visa Lottery, and became a naturalized citizen in 2002. Currently, he works for Verizon Corp., and is an influential part of the African diaspora community, promoting development initiatives in Ethiopia and throughout the continent. He also has be-come one of Books For Africa’s most steadfast supporters. In fact, he often arranges for African Ambassadors, such as the Ethiopian Ambassador to the United States, to host Books For Africa events in Washington, D.C.

Asratie calls himself an “example” of what can happen when a child is given an education. “Education changed my life,” he says. “If we really want to help Africa, we have to educate the children. They are the future of Africa. And literacy is the cornerstone of education.”

Although his primary and secondary schools lacked books, Asratie’s hunger for learning and the influence of his grandmother, who understood the importance of literacy, altered the course of his life. By contrast, his paternal half-brothers were unable to attend school past the 4th grade. They live as subsistence farmers in the area of Ethiopia in which they were born. “My brothers did not get the chance they deserved,” Asratie says. “I am now a Ph.D. candidate. Only the opportunity to hold a book sets us apart.”

Since coming to the United States, Asratie has devoted himself to providing opportunities to the children of Ethi-opia through his work with Books For Africa. He describes how amazed he was by the wealth of books in the United States, having come from a place where books are so few. In Ethiopia, children “hold books as if they were hugging a loved one. The need is so desperate,” he says.

Books For Africa has sent over two million books to Ethiopia since 1988. “We cannot stop until every child can hold a book,” Asratie says. “In every shipment we send, if one kid is inspired, I tell you, we have done our job.” Asratie believes that books open up the world for a child. The “miracle of the scrap paper” changed his life. Many children are waiting to experience their own miracles.

by Rachel Brady, Books For Africa

He calls it “the miracle of the scrap paper.” Asratie Teferra was born in a rural village in northeastern Ethiopia. The home he and his family shared with their farm animals was a one-room, grass-covered hut with an open fireplace in the center of the room. Nevertheless, in 1977, Asratie was a 15-year-old with big dreams.


Finding Maria’s Voiceby Robyn Ridgley, Middle Tennessee State Universityand Martin Ridgley, Hobgood Elementary School

Autumn 2014 29

Maria and her family

recently immigrated to the United States from Mexico. It is the beginning of the school year and Mr. Castle, Maria’s 1st-grade teacher, has been busy helping her and her classmates make new friends and begin to read and use numbers in meaningful ways.


Maria is one of seven Spanish-speaking children in the class. Several of them speak fluent English, while Ma-ria and two others are just beginning to speak English. Maria and the other English language learners (ELLs) spend most of their day in the classroom with the other 11 children. However, they also spend 30 minutes with the English as a second language (ESL) teacher in an-other classroom. This is Maria’s favorite time of the day; she feels comfortable in this environment, because there are other Spanish-speaking students with whom she can talk in her home language.

During lessons in the ESL classroom, the students learn new words in fun ways. The ESL teacher uses strategies to connect the new language with each student’s home language, creating a less stressful atmosphere. Maria is more outgoing and comfortable as she attempts to use the new language in this environment. As an additional support, the ESL teacher joins Maria and her peers in Mr. Castle’s classroom. She often provides their teachers with strategies that encourage the students’ learning of English. She also models strategies for the teacher while working with the students in the classroom.

Although Mr. Castle does not speak Spanish, he does incorporate literature that includes Spanish and Mexi-can cultural themes. He has learned some key words in Spanish to help communicate basic ideas to his Spanish-speaking students as they are settling into the class-room routines and learning English. He also engages in community-building activities with his students each day. The students can share important events going on in their families’ lives, details about themselves, or information about what they enjoy doing. This time of day has helped many of the Spanish-speaking students become more comfortable in the classroom. They learn about both similarities and differences to be found be-tween their families. They also learn that the classroom is a safe place where they can try out their new English, speak in Spanish to their Spanish-speaking friends, and share details about their lives. At times, Maria is very quiet during the day. On those days, she may not speak directly to Mr. Castle at all and only speak to her peers when on the playground. Mr. Castle and the ESL teacher

discuss the need to give Maria time to work through this silent phase and they brainstorm strategies for helping her progress through the phase. One strategy Mr. Castle uses in the classroom is pairing Maria with an English-speaking student who enjoys interacting with Maria and encourages her to participate in conversations by talk-ing about things that are interesting to Maria. He also carefully considers the types of questions he asks Maria and his expectations for her response. He asks questions that allow Maria to respond with yes or no, to select an answer from verbal choices, or to choose from pictures or other visuals.

Recently, the students in Mr. Castle’s room have been engaging in Writer’s Workshop. During this time, they spend about 10 minutes participating in a mini-lesson during which Mr. Castle directly teaches them a writing skill. Then, they write for approximately 30 minutes. They have written and published “about me” and “how-to” books. Maria completed those books by using a model as a guide for the most part. On one recent day, Mr. Castle taught a mini-lesson on personal narratives—stories about our own lives. He began his lesson by picture walking through Donald Crews’ book, Shortcut, a personal narrative they had recently read. This story details through illustrations and emotions how the main character’s decision to take a shortcut led to a close encounter with a locomotive and, ultimately, a change in plans. He asked the students to provide details about what happened in the story. He facilitated a discussion about how the illustrations played a role in helping the reader understand the story. He then labeled the story as a personal narrative and told the students they would be writing their own personal narratives.

Mr. Castle further prepared the students by showing them the beginning of his own personal narrative. It was a story about his family and their adventures choosing a pet. The students were asked to think about events they could describe in their own personal narratives. As he dismissed them to their seats, he told each student to quietly share with him what they would be writing. As Maria went to her seat, she said she was going to write about a trip.

Autumn 2014 31

One of the strategies identified by the ESL teacher to support Maria as she was developing her English was to integrate her home language into her writing. After the personal narrative mini lesson, the ESL teacher moved beside Maria discuss her story. She asked her in Spanish to relate her idea for her personal narrative. Maria said that she was going to write about her family’s trip from Mexico. She began to tell through illustrations what they did as they made their journey to Tennessee. Each picture showed a worried and anxious little girl with her family. She added details from the landscape and cities through which they traveled. After she was satisfied with the illustrations, Maria and the ESL teacher began work-ing on the written words. She orally told the story to the ESL teacher. When writing, she included both Spanish and English words. As she wrote, she said the words as best she could and attempted to match the letter(s) to each sound. If she needed a particular word that she only knew in Spanish, she wrote it in that language. If she knew the word in English, she wrote it in English. As the teachers talked with her each day about her personal narrative, they discussed the Spanish words she had used and identified the corresponding English words. Maria chose to write the English word above the Spanish word on her story.

The class spent two weeks working on their personal narratives. Students began by writing their stories on the draft copy. They were encouraged to review what they had written previously, write the entire time, make their best attempt at spelling unknown words, write complete thoughts and sentences, and include illustrations that corresponded to their text. As Maria began each day, she read her story, including both the Spanish and English words when they were both written. As Mr. Castle and the ESL teacher conferenced with the students while they worked, they encouraged the students to add more details to their texts and illustrations. Once the students felt their story was complete, the students edited their work by checking the punctuation, capitalization, and spelling of words for which they were uncertain. As Maria moved from drafting to editing to finalizing, the teachers noticed she was talking more to her peers about her work. Each day, as writing time would

conclude and share time began, Maria demonstrated more confidence. Over time, she began showing the other students her illustrations and telling them about the details included in the text. She also listened as her peers shared the details of their own stories.

Once all of the students had finalized their stories, Mr. Castle bound the stories for publication. He planned an authors’ celebration in which families and other visitors would come to the classroom to listen to the students share their personal narratives. Maria was eager to share her story with her parents. On the day of the authors’ celebration, Maria’s parents arrived and sat beside her. When it was time to read, Maria quietly read her story to her parents. First, she read it in English. Then, she told the story in Spanish. Mr. Castle and the ESL teacher circulated around the classroom and listened to students as they read with their parents. When Mr. Castle reached to Maria, he shared with her parents the draft copy of the book to illustrate how she had written her story and learned many new words in English as she wrote.

Writing provided a bridge from Maria’s first language to her second language. She used English in meaning-ful ways as she told and illustrated her story. When she was uncertain about the English words to use, she was encouraged to use her first language. Her teachers sup-ported her learning by providing time for her to write each day and conferencing with her throughout the writing process. Daily share time and the final authors’ celebration provided a structured opportunity for Maria and her peers to share their work, and, more impor-tantly, for Maria to use her new language. Maria’s story touched her entire classroom community and helped create connections with her English-speaking peers as they learned more about her and her family. The teach-ers acknowledged the value of Maria’s story by allowing her to share and write about it. Through the experience, Maria gained the confidence to share other stories about her life.

ReferencesCrews, D. (1996). Shortcut. New York, NY: Greenwillow

Books.

ChildhoodExplorer

The Association for Childhood Education International, a nonprofit dedicated to promoting the optimal education and development of children, is proud to be offering this new publication that focuses specifically on the experience of

childhood around the world. Childhood Explorer is an online vehicle for sharing informative and inspirational stories about childhood and about projects and campaigns

that provide quality education, care, and support to children and youth in diverse communities and circumstances.

We invite you to submit short, 1- to 3-page, articles for consideration. We are seeking narrative, conversational articles that stay focused on a personal story of childhood, while connected to a global issue concerning childhood and children’s education.

Visit http://acei.org/acei-publications/childhood-explorer for more information and to download guidelines and samples.

Topics of interest are:

Daily life of a child in a particular geographic location/culture/socioeconomic situation/life circumstance

NGO initiatives to support children’s well-being and education

Programs/approaches and how they work through real-life application

Global trends in education

Global trends affecting childhood

For more information about this publication,contact [email protected].

Exploring the Landscape of Childhood WorldwideAssociation for Childhood Education International

Childhood Explorer Autumn 2014

Documents

Transcript of Childhood Explorer Autumn 2014