#supporteverychild

World Autism Awareness Day which occurs annually on April 2 emphasizes the need for people to understand and accept and support children with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD). The day asks schools and parents and communities to collaborate in building inclusive spaces which enable all children to feel appreciated and understood. Gitanjali International School DLF Phase 4 Gurugram uses its awareness programs and inclusive programs to teach students empathy and compassion and respect for differences from their first educational experiences.

Understanding Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD)

Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) is one of several developmental disabilities that affects both how children communicate with others, and how they develop social skills (interaction) and how they learn. The World Health Organization estimates that approximately 1 in 100 children around the world will have an autism diagnosis.

Children with autism can have different abilities and preferences, and can have unique gifts and ways of viewing their world.

Below are some common signs of autism for children under the age of 5 years:

Difficulty with social communication or making eye contact

Engaging in repetitive behaviour, or showing intense interests in specific activities

Being sensitive to sounds, lights or textures

Respecting established routines and orderly activities

If a child is identified early for having autism and provided support they may have an easier time developing social or communication skills and can learn effectively.

Importance of Awareness in Schools

Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) is one of several developmental disabilities that affects both how children communicate with others, and how they develop social skills (interaction) and how they learn. The World Health Organization estimates that approximately 1 in 100 children around the world will have an autism diagnosis.

Children with autism can have different abilities and preferences, and can have unique gifts and ways of viewing their world.

Below are some common signs of autism for children under the age of 5 years:

Difficulty with social communication or making eye contact

Engaging in repetitive behaviour, or showing intense interests in specific activities

Being sensitive to sounds, lights or textures

Respecting established routines and orderly activities

If a child is identified early for having autism and provided support they may have an easier time developing social or communication skills and can learn effectively.

Supporting Children Through Inclusive Education

Inclusive education ensures that children with different abilities learn together in a supportive environment. Teachers use flexible teaching methods, visual aids, and activity-based learning to support different learning needs.

Key practices that support inclusive education include:

Using visual learning tools and structured routines

Encouraging peer support and teamwork

Providing positive reinforcement and patience

Creating calm and safe classroom spaces

Such approaches help children feel confident and motivated to participate in classroom activities.

Role of Parents and Teachers

The following will enhance a child's social awareness through their parent's help:

Discuss kindness and acceptance

Encourage children to include classmates in play

Support a structure to help regulate the home environment

Support each child's unique strengths and accomplishments

Teachers can provide children with social awareness through the following:

Modify lesson plans to meet diverse learning styles

Encourage teamwork among children

Create a positive and respectful classroom environment

Building a Compassionate School Community

World Autism Awareness Day demonstrates that awareness and understanding must come first before inclusion can begin. Empathy training which children receive during their formative years leads to their development into responsible and caring adults. Schools that promote diverse student populations enable their students to develop self-confidence and social responsibility and emotional intelligence.

Gitanjali International School DLF Phase 4 Gurugram operates as one of the best cbse preschools in sector 28 gurgaon to deliver public awareness initiatives which promote inclusive education and emotional growth. The school creates a learning environment which respects all students while establishing a space which supports their academic success through understanding and acceptance of all students.

This abstract delves into the foundational principles and contemporary insights shaping early childhood learning, specifically focusing on how children aged 3 to 6 acquire knowledge, develop understanding, and build essential emotional and cognitive tools for lifelong success. Drawing from both established research and the daily realities observed in a kindergarten classroom, this paper emphasizes the pivotal roles of play, supportive environments, nurturing relationships, and developmental readiness in fostering holistic growth.

Modern research in child development—spanning classic theorists like Piaget (emphasizing active construction of knowledge through interaction with the environment) and Vygotsky(highlighting the social and cultural influences on learning), alongside recent neuroscience studies—converges on the understanding that early learning is inherently active, social, and profoundly influenced by emotional security. Play-based approaches, particularly when integrated with intentional teaching, are crucial; they enable children to internalize abstract concepts through concrete, hands-on experiences. For instance, building a complex structure with blocks allows children to intuitively grasp principles of balance, gravity, and spatial reasoning, far more effectively than a verbal explanation alone. Children at this stage learn optimally through doing, questioning, observing, and imitating, rather than solely through direct instruction or rote memorization.

The abstract focuses on four interconnected key domains of early learning:

Cognitive Development: Children's thinking progresses from concrete manipulation to more symbolic representation. Their innate curiosity drives exploration and early problem-solving. For example, a child repeatedly dropping different objects into water to see which ones float or sink is actively constructing an understanding of buoyancy and density through experimentation.

Social-Emotional Learning (SEL): The establishment of secure attachments and consistent routinesis paramount, fostering the development of emotional regulation, empathy, and resilience. A predictable "clean-up song" routine, for instance, not only teaches responsibility but also encourages cooperation and self-control, crucial for navigating social situations and managing frustration.

Language Acquisition: Vocabulary expands rapidly and communication skills are refined when children are immersed in meaningful conversations and exposed to rich language environments. Engaging in a dialogue about a pet, where a child describes its actions and sounds, provides a far deeper linguistic experience than simply naming animals from a flashcard.

Physical & Sensory Learning: Development of both fine motor skills (e.g., manipulating small objects, drawing) and gross motor skills (e.g., running, jumping) directly enhances focus and independence. This is particularly evident when paired with sensory-rich, movement-based tasks, such as exploring textures in a sensory bin, which refines tactile discrimination, or engaging in outdoor play, which develops coordination and spatial awareness.

The research concludes that early learning transcends mere preparation for formal schooling; it forms the fundamental bedrock for all future learning. The most effective early learning environments are those that respectfully honor each child’s individual pace, actively build trusting relationships between children, educators, and families, and skillfully blend structured learning opportunities with ample freedom for exploration and play. In such environments, teachers assume a pivotal role as astute observers, supportive facilitators, and consistent emotional anchors.

When I first walked into a kindergarten classroom as a teacher, I thought I was prepared. I had the lesson plans. I had the colorful posters. I had the songs, the stickers, and a heart full of passion.

But nothing quite prepares you for 20 little voices asking 20 different things at once, or for the moment you realize you’re not just teaching the alphabet—you’re shaping hearts, habits, and tiny humans. It's a beautiful, demanding, and incredibly rewarding journey.

In this blog post, I want to open up about some of the real challenges I’ve faced as a kindergarten teacher—and, more importantly, how I’ve worked through them. Because the truth is: teaching is magical, but it isn't always easy.

🎭 Challenge #1: Managing Emotional Outbursts

What I Faced:

Kindergarten is often a child's first sustained experience in a group setting, away from home. From tears at drop-off to frustration during group activities (like when a tower collapses or a friend takes a favorite toy), emotional regulation was a daily hurdle—especially at the beginning of the year. Many children simply didn’t yet have the words or the developed prefrontal cortex to express how they felt in a calm way. This meant meltdowns, hitting, or shutting down.

How I Overcame It:

My approach shifted from trying to stop the emotion to helping children understand and manage it.

I created a "Feelings Corner": This was a designated, calming space in the classroom with soft pillows, calming visuals (like a "breathing ball" or a poster showing different emotions), and sensory tools (e.g., squishy toys, glitter jars). When a child felt overwhelmed, they knew they could go to the Feelings Corner to self-regulate. For instance, if Liam was stomping his feet in frustration, I'd gently guide him there and say, "Liam, I see your body is feeling angry. Let's go to our Feelings Corner for a minute."

I introduced emotion cards and charts: We used these daily during circle time. I'd hold up a card with a happy face, a sad face, an angry face, and ask, "How is our friend feeling in this picture? When do youfeel this way?" This built their emotional vocabulary. Slowly, I started hearing children use these words naturally, like "I feel disappointed because the blocks fell down."

I taught simple breathing techniques and used books: We practiced "bunny breaths" (short sniffs) or "smell the flower, blow out the candle" breaths. I'd read books like "The Color Monster" by Anna Llenas or "When Sophie Gets Angry—Really, Really Angry" by Molly Bang to spark conversations about big feelings. This gave them tools and language.

It didn't change overnight, but slowly I saw children begin to say things like, "I feel angry, and I need space," or "I feel sad because my mom left, but I know she'll be back." That's incredible growth!

👂 Challenge #2: Gaining Trust from Families

What I Faced:

When parents drop off their little ones, they're handing over their most precious treasure. Naturally, some families were anxious, hesitant, or even overly critical in the beginning. It was clear they needed to know I genuinely saw their child as an individual and cared for them deeply, not just as one of many students. This initial lack of trust could manifest as frequent calls, questioning decisions, or an overall feeling of distance.

How I Overcame It:

I realized that building trust required intentional, consistent effort, not just at conferences, but every single day.

I made time for one-on-one chats, even if short: A quick, positive comment at pick-up or drop-off like, "Your child had such a great idea during circle time today!" or "They were so kind helping a friend," can make a parent's entire day and builds immense goodwill.

I sent home positive notes and pictures regularly: Using a communication app like ClassDojo or Seesaw was a game-changer. I'd send a quick picture of their child engaged in an activity, with a caption like, "Look at Maya's concentration during our art project!" or a short message: "Just wanted to share that Alex showed amazing problem-solving skills with a puzzle today!" These tiny glimpses into their child's happy day were invaluable.

I asked parents for their input and truly listened: Instead of just telling them about their child, I'd ask, "What helps [Child's Name] settle in the mornings at home?" or "What are your hopes for your child to gain this year in kindergarten?" This showed I respected their expertise and saw them as partners.

Building trust took time and consistent effort—but now, I feel like a vital part of a supportive team with each family.

🕰️ Challenge #3: Time (Or Lack of It)

What I Faced:

The kindergarten day is a whirlwind! Between planning engaging lessons, teaching, individual and group documentation, managing transitions, cleaning up spills, comforting children, and meeting with colleagues—there never seemed to be enough time in the day. I often felt like I was constantly rushing or falling behind, leading to stress and feeling overwhelmed.

How I Overcame It:

I had to become much more strategic about my time and energy.

I started batching small tasks: Instead of preparing materials for each day, I'd dedicate a block of time once a week to prep all art supplies, print worksheets, or cut out manipulatives for the entire week ahead. This saved mental energy and time during busy mornings.

I created visual routines for the children: Having a clear visual schedule (pictures representing each activity: circle time, centers, snack, outdoor play, etc.) helped the children understand the flow of the day. This reduced constant questions like "What are we doing next?" and freed up my verbal instructions, making transitions smoother and saving my time.

I gave myself permission to simplify when needed: I learned that not everything has to be Pinterest-perfect. A simple, engaging activity done with presence is far more valuable than an elaborate one that causes teacher burnout. Sometimes, a spontaneous story read under a table with a flashlight was more memorable than a perfectly planned craft.

I learned that efficiency isn't about doing more—it's about doing what matters most and letting go of the need for perfection.

🧠 Challenge #4: Self-Doubt

What I Faced:

There were days I wondered, Am I doing enough? A child struggling to settle into the classroom, an activity that didn’t go as planned, a difficult parent meeting, or even just feeling exhausted would trigger waves of self-doubt. It's easy to compare yourself to others or feel the weight of responsibility for so many little lives.

How I Overcame It:

I realized that self-doubt is a normal part of any challenging profession, especially one where you care so deeply. It was important to develop strategies for self-compassion and seeking support.

I started keeping a "teacher joy journal": At the end of each day, I'd jot down one or two small wins—a child's breakthrough moment, a funny quote, a genuine connection, or an observation of kindness. For example: "Leo finally put his name on his paper!" or "Loved how the class spontaneously started singing along to the clean-up song today." This helped me focus on progress and positives, counteracting the negative self-talk.

I connected with other educators: Sharing struggles and successes with colleagues (both in person and in online forums) made me realize I wasn't alone. Hearing others' similar challenges and solutions was incredibly validating and helped me gain new perspectives.

I reminded myself: Growth takes time—for me and my students: Just as I wouldn't expect a child to master something overnight, I shouldn't expect myself to be a perfect teacher from day one. I'd tell myself, "You're learning, growing, and doing your best with what you have right now."

The truth is, self-doubt is normal. But reflection, support from a professional community, and kindness toward myself helped me keep going and grow into a more confident educator.

🧡 Challenge #5: Balancing Structure and Flexibility

What I Faced:

Some days went exactly as planned, with every transition smooth and every activity a hit. Others? Not so much. Maybe a child came in upset and needed extra, prolonged attention. Maybe the entire class was unexpectedly wiggly and restless, making a quiet story time impossible. I learned quickly that rigid adherence to a schedule could be counterproductive and lead to frustration for everyone. I had to learn to adjust—fast.

How I Overcame It:

This challenge taught me the immense value of adaptability in early childhood education.

I planned my day like a framework, not a script: I had my core activities and goals, but I held them loosely. I understood that the order or duration might shift based on the children's energy and needs.

I created backup "wiggle activities" and sensory breaks: If I saw the class getting restless during circle time, I'd quickly pivot. "Okay, friends, I see some wiggles! Let's do a quick 'Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes' song before we read our story!" This preempted major disruptions.

I learned to say: "That’s okay. Let’s try something else." This simple phrase became my mantra. If an activity wasn't working or the children weren't engaged, I wouldn't force it. I'd acknowledge it and swiftly move on to something more suitable for that moment. This modeled resilience and flexibility for the children too.

Flexibility became my secret weapon—not a weakness, but a profound strength that allowed my classroom to truly meet the children where they were each day.

🌈 What These Challenges Taught Me

Through every challenge, every tear, every triumph, and every unexpected moment, I grew more:

Empathetic: I learned to truly see and understand the diverse needs and feelings of each child and family.

Creative: I discovered endless ways to problem-solve, adapt, and make learning joyful.

Patient: My ability to wait, guide, and trust in the process deepened immeasurably.

Resilient: I learned to bounce back from tough days, reflect on what happened, and start fresh with renewed energy.

And I realized: You don’t have to be a perfect teacher to be a great one. You just need to care deeply, keep learning, and show up fully—day after day.

✨ Final Thought

Every challenge in the kindergarten classroom is a hidden opportunity—to connect more deeply with children, to learn something new about myself, and to grow into a more effective educator.

And while the path isn’t always smooth, it is always worth it. The incredible privilege of shaping tiny hearts and minds makes every hurdle feel meaningful.

To all the teachers out there facing your own unique classroom challenges:

You’re not alone. You’re doing incredibly important, meaningful work. And believe me, you’re stronger, more adaptable, and more impactful than you think. Keep shining!

Every new school year brings a room full of bright eyes, curious minds, and little personalities waiting to unfold. As a kindergarten teacher, I've seen a spectrum of temperaments, but one child stood out last year—not for being boisterous or demanding attention, but for the exact opposite. She was quiet, hesitant, and almost invisible amidst the joyful noise of our classroom.

She arrived clutching her mother’s hand on the first day, her eyes avoiding mine, her voice barely a whisper when prompted. While other children rushed to explore the play area, she sat silently in a corner, observing. She didn’t cry; she didn’t complain. She just… shrank. It was clear she felt overwhelmed by the new environment and the energy of so many unfamiliar faces.

What followed over the next few weeks taught me one of the most beautiful lessons of my teaching career: that true growth often happens in quiet, gentle increments.

👀 Step One: Observation Over Intervention – The Power of Watching and Waiting

My first instinct wasn't to push her into activities or demand eye contact. Instead, I committed to observation over immediate intervention. Think of it like a scientist studying a delicate ecosystem – you wouldn't disrupt it right away. I simply watched. What genuinely captured her attention? What subtle cues did she give?

I noticed:

She would subtly turn her head when I read a story about animals.

A faint smile would grace her lips when another child, without prompting, handed her a building block during free play.

Her eyes would linger, full of longing, on the dress-up corner, even though she never ventured there herself.

She gravitated towards activities that allowed for independent, focused work, like coloring or quiet puzzles.

This initial phase was crucial. It wasn't about ignoring her; it was about respecting her need for space and gathering information. Knowing these small details allowed me to tailor my approach, rather than applying a one-size-fits-all solution that might have further overwhelmed her.

🧩 Step Two: Create a Safe, Quiet Entry Point – The Invitation, Not the Demand

Once I had a sense of her preferences, I began to leave soft invitations near her. These weren't demands for interaction, but rather gentle opportunities. I aimed to create a low-pressure environment where she could engage on her own terms.

For instance:

Instead of asking her to join a large group, I'd place a fresh coloring sheet with a new box of crayonson a small table near where she often sat.

I introduced a soft, friendly stuffed animal onto a cushion in a quiet corner of the reading nook.

I intentionally placed books about quiet animals (like sloths or sleepy bears) within easy reach, knowing her subtle interest in animals.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she began to interact—first with the objects, then with me, and then, gradually, with her immediate environment.

One afternoon, I sat beside her, quietly coloring my own picture, making simple, soft comments like, “That’s a lovely shade of blue you’ve chosen for the sky.” I didn't press for a response. Then one day, a whisper, barely audible, escaped her lips: “It’s my favorite.” That moment was golden. It was the first key turned in the lock, a tiny crack in her protective shell, indicating she felt safe enough to share a part of herself.

👯‍♀️ Step Three: Introduce Gentle Peer Connections – The Buddy System with Intention

Children sense energy and intentions keenly. Shy ones rarely open up when forced into large, boisterous social situations. They bloom when they feel secure and connected. With this in mind, I carefully chose a buddy for her—a kind, calm child with a naturally nurturing and patient spirit. This wasn't a random pairing; it was a deliberate choice based on their personalities.

We started with simple, low-stakes tasks:

“Could you two please help me pass out the napkins for snack time?”

“Let’s see if you can work together to find all the matching cards in this game.”

“Would you both like to help water our classroom plants today?”

These activities required minimal verbal interaction but fostered a sense of shared purpose and proximity. Over time, this careful pairing blossomed into a genuine friendship. From that friendship came hesitant laughter, then confident pretend play in the dramatic play area, and eventually, shared stories whispered between them. This peer connection became a vital bridge to wider social engagement.

🎨 Step Four: Celebrate Small Wins (Quietly) – Affirmation, Not Announcement

When a shy child takes a risk and tries something new, the celebration of that effort is crucial, but it needs to be handled with sensitivity. Over-the-top praise or public announcements can feel overwhelming and counterproductive, potentially making them retreat again.

When she participated in a group song for the first time, singing along with a few words, I didn’t announce it to the entire class. Instead, I simply caught her eye, gave her a soft, encouraging smile, and a subtle thumbs up. She saw me, she knew I noticed, and she visibly glowed. These gentle, private affirmations encouraged her to try again, building her confidence brick by brick, without the pressure of a spotlight.

🌸 The Moment I Knew She Had Bloomed – From Whisper to a Full Sentence

It was during free play, about eight weeks into the school year. The transformation had been gradual, almost imperceptible day by day, but this moment solidified it. She was in the home corner, the very place she had once only gazed at longingly. She was wearing a toy stethoscope, confidently "treating" another child who was pretending to be sick.

She turned to me, her eyes sparkling with imaginative play, and said, “Teacher, he has a fever. I gave him soup.”

It was the first full sentence she’d ever said to me in class, spoken with clarity, confidence, and a joyful sparkle in her eye. It wasn't just about the words; it was about the presence, the engagement, and the sheer joy radiating from her.

🌈 What I Learned – Timeless Principles for Nurturing Shy Children

Helping a shy child open up isn’t about changing who they are fundamentally. It’s about creating a safe, understanding, and patient space for their true, wonderful self to feel secure enough to show up. My experience reaffirmed some profound truths:

Patience is powerful: Growth takes time. Rushing the process can hinder it.

Small steps are still steps: Celebrate every tiny progression. Each whisper, each glance, each brief interaction is a victory.

Quiet voices have rich stories: Some of the deepest thinkers and most creative minds are found in those who prefer to observe before engaging.

Every child blooms in their own season: Just like flowers, children unfold at their own pace, under the right conditions.

Final Thought:

"Not every flower blooms in the sunlight—some unfold gently in the quiet shade."

My Journey into the Wonderful World of Little Learners

When I walked into my very first kindergarten classroom, wide-eyed and hopeful, I thought I knew exactly what to expect. My lesson plans were printed, bulletin boards perfectly decorated, and my heart was overflowing with excitement. I pictured neat rows of eager faces, quiet concentration, and smooth transitions. Oh, how beautifully wrong I was!

No amount of preparation, no textbook, no Pinterest board could have taught me what my students were about to show me. Teaching kindergarten, I quickly discovered, is a vibrant, beautiful mix of glorious chaos, boundless creativity, endless patience, and an immeasurable amount of heart. It’s a dance between structure and spontaneity, where every day holds a new surprise.

Here are the biggest, most impactful lessons I learned during my transformative first year as a kindergarten teacher:

1. Relationships Trump Routines (Every Single Time!)

Yes, routines are absolutely the backbone of any successful classroom. They provide structure, predictability, and a sense of safety. But I quickly learned that while routines keep the classroom running, it's the relationships that truly shape the entire year.

I saw firsthand that a child is far more ready to learn, to explore, and to risk making mistakes when they feel safe, seen, and genuinely supported. There was this one little boy, let's call him Leo, who struggled with separation anxiety every morning. No matter how many times I went over our morning routine, he’d cling to his mom. The moment I started dedicating a few extra minutes each morning to just connect with him—a special wave, a shared giggle about his dinosaur shirt, a quick chat about his breakfast—everything shifted. He started walking in with a smile, ready to tackle the day.

The moment I began focusing more on connecting with each individual student, even if it meant slowing down my carefully crafted plan, magic started to happen. Trust opened the door to learning in a way I never anticipated.

2. Every Child Is a Universe Unto Themselves

I came in with a "one-size-fits-all" mindset, thinking my brilliant lesson plan would captivate all 20 tiny humans equally. Boy, was that a delightful revelation! What worked beautifully for one student didn’t always work for another—and I learned, very quickly, that that was more than okay; it was essential.

Some needed movement breaks every 15 minutes, wiggling out their energy before returning to a task. Others craved quiet corners, a cozy nook where they could focus away from the classroom buzz. Some blossomed through imaginative storytelling and dramatic play, while others thrived with messy, hands-on experiments. I remember one student, Maya, who seemed disengaged during our whole-group phonics lessons. But give her a tub of magnetic letters, and she’d spell out words with intense concentration and a joyful hum.

My biggest shift was learning to see each child as an individual learner with their own unique pace, personality, and preferred way of engaging. That’s when teaching truly became personal, powerful, and incredibly rewarding.

3. Play Isn’t Just Fun—It's the Ultimate Learning Lab!

I used to think of play as something that happened after the "real" learning was done, a reward for completing tasks. Now, I know better. My classroom became a vibrant, buzzing space where play wasn't just part of learning; it was the learning.

Whether children were building elaborate cities with blocks (developing early engineering and spatial reasoning!), role-playing in the home corner (honing their language skills and understanding social roles!), or digging for buried treasures in the sand tray (exploring measurement, cause and effect, and collaborative problem-solving!), I saw them develop critical language, math concepts, empathy, and problem-solving skills—all through the joyous, uninhibited act of play.

This discovery profoundly changed the way I teach. We now dedicate significant time to purposeful play, understanding that it's the richest environment for holistic development.

4. Mess Is the Most Beautiful Sign of Growth

Paint splattered on the tables? Absolutely! Puzzle pieces scattered across the floor? You bet! Water everywhere around the sensory bin? A daily occurrence!

Yes, I saw messes. But through those messes, I also saw deep thinking, fearless experimenting, and joyful exploration. I learned not to panic over cluttered spaces or imperfect handwriting on a first attempt. When a child was covered in glitter and glue, it meant they were creating. When blocks toppled with a crash, it meant they were testing boundaries and learning about gravity.

Mess, I realized, meant engagement. Mess meant curiosity. And mess, above all, meant that learning was alive, active, and thriving in our room. My definition of a "tidy" classroom completely transformed.

5. I Grew Just as Much as My Students Did

I started the year as "Ms Kavi, the teacher." I ended it as so much more: a listener, a guide, a comforter, a detective (solving mysteries like "Who took my crayon?!"), an artist, a cheerleader, and yes—still the teacher.

I learned how to pivot when my perfectly planned lessons fell flat. I learned how to celebrate the smallest victories, like a child independently zipping their coat for the first time. And I learned how to laugh—truly belly laugh—when things inevitably didn’t go as expected.

Most of all, I learned just how incredibly much children can teach you if you truly pay attention, if you listen with your heart, and if you're open to seeing the world through their wonderfully innocent and curious eyes. They taught me resilience, flexibility, and the profound joy of discovery.

6. Kindergarten Is a Foundation—Not a Race

The pressure to meet milestones and check off academic boxes is very real, even in kindergarten. But I learned to consciously shift my focus from rigid outcomes to rich, meaningful experiences.

When we gave ample time to explore letters through imaginative storytelling, creating our own alphabet books, or learning numbers through active movement games and counting everyday objects, the learning came naturally, organically, and deeply. We weren't rushing to "finish" a curriculum; we were building a strong, joyful foundation.

The best progress we made, both academically and emotionally, came from patience, not pressure. It came from allowing each child the space and time they needed to blossom at their own pace.

Final Thought: Building More Than Just Lessons

My first year in kindergarten didn't just involve teaching lessons from a book. It involved building memories, fostering resilience, and shaping tiny humans' fundamental sense of the world.It was a year of profound growth, not just for my students, but for me too.

And while it was often exhausting, sometimes overwhelming, and consistently unpredictable—it was, without a doubt, the most rewarding year of my life.

Here's to the beautiful, messy, magical lessons we learn when we teach from the heart. 💛

By Kinder Journey With Kavi, Kindergarten Teacher | Child Advocate | Teaching With Purpose

“Every child is a different kind of flower, and all together they make this world a beautiful garden.”

Walk into my kindergarten classroom, and you won't just see children learning; you’ll see them living. You'll find a symphony of discovery: the focused hum of block builders engineering skyscrapers, the joyful giggles of friends concocting a pretend feast, the quiet concentration of a painter bringing a world to life on paper. Each child, with their unique story, strength, and need, is deeply immersed in the most powerful form of learning: play.

My approach as a kindergarten teacher is rooted in one profound belief: Every child deserves to be seen, supported, and celebrated—exactly as they are, especially through the magic of play.

🌱 The Heart of My Teaching Philosophy: Where Play Blooms

Supporting every child doesn’t mean treating every child the same. Instead, it’s about a dance of:

Observing deeply: Watching how a child interacts with materials, peers, and challenges during play reveals their natural curiosity and developing skills.

Listening carefully: What are their questions, their theories, their narratives in their play? These are the windows to their burgeoning minds.

Planning intentionally: Crafting environments and provocations that invite meaningful play, sparking curiosity and guiding exploration.

Responding compassionately: Nurturing their discoveries, supporting their struggles, and celebrating every small breakthrough born from their engagement.

Children are not blank slates—they are active thinkers, feelers, and explorers from the start. My job is not to “fill” them, but to nurture who they already are through experiences that are as natural and vital as breathing: play.

🧩 My 4 Pillars of Supportive Teaching: Building Blocks of Play

1. 🌟 Play as Individualized Learning, Not Standardized Expectations

In my play-based classroom, success isn't a single mold; it's a kaleidoscope. Some children might be confidently "writing" their names by drawing letters in sand. Others might be mastering the fine motor skills needed to hold a pencil while carefully placing small beads. Both are equally important, both are valid, and both are happening through their playful engagement.

I champion choices, differentiated activities, and open-ended tasks that invite children to learn at their own pace. Whether it’s building a fantastical kingdom with blocks (developing spatial reasoning and problem-solving), painting with purpose (honing creativity and expression), or retelling a story through role-play (building literacy and empathy)—I meet children where they are. Play allows me to move them forward not by pushing, but by inviting them to explore the next frontier on their own terms.

2. 🗣️ Voice and Choice: The Sound of Empowerment in Play

Children truly thrive when they feel heard and empowered. Play is their natural language for expressing this. I empower them to:

Make decisions about their play and, by extension, their learning.

Share ideas during "share time" about what they discovered or created through play.

Lead play scenarios and even co-construct classroom rules that foster a harmonious play environment.

Express emotions safely and freely as they navigate the social complexities of shared play.

This freedom builds confidence, responsibility, and ownership—skills that extend far beyond the classroom, blossoming in every aspect of their lives.

3. 🤗 Connection First, Learning Follows: Play as the Ultimate Bridge

Before I introduce a single letter or number, I build trust. Play is the most potent tool for this. I greet every child by name, noticing their moods as they enter our play-filled space. I honor their cultures, languages, and family backgrounds, often integrating them into our shared play experiences. When a child knows they are safe and valued—especially when they feel safe enough to be vulnerable in their play—learning becomes natural, joyful, and deeply personal.

The learning environment I create isn't just academic; it's relational, built on the foundation of shared moments, collaborative play, and genuine connection.

4. 🌍 Inclusive and Culturally Responsive Practices: Playing in a World of Diversity

Having taught in wonderfully diverse classrooms, including here in Dubai where children represent a tapestry of cultures and backgrounds, I've seen firsthand how play breaks down barriers. My role is to reflect that diversity in:

Books, music, and storytelling that inspire dramatic play and imaginative journeys.

Celebrations and classroom displays that honor global traditions, often sparking new forms of cultural play.

Language used in daily interactions, affirming every child's identity as they navigate play.

Respectful communication with families, understanding that play is often culturally unique and deeply meaningful.

Every child should feel like they belong—not just as guests in our classroom, but as vibrant, essential creators of our shared play culture.

📖 Real Stories from My Classroom: Where Play Transformed

Let me share a few moments where play wasn't just fun, but the very engine of learning:

The Quiet Builder's Breakthrough: I once had a new student, a quiet boy from a different country, who was initially hesitant to join group activities. Instead of pushing him, I noticed his fascination with our block area. I introduced open-ended large wooden blocks and a set of small world play figures (animals and people). Initially, he built alone, creating intricate enclosures for the animals. As he played, I gently joined him, mirroring his actions or offering a new block. This simple shared play became our bridge. Soon, other children joined his "zoo" or "farm." Within weeks, he was leading group building projects, collaborating on elaborate scenarios, and using play as his comfortable way to communicate and connect with peers. He wasn't just building structures; he was building social skills, communication, and confidence.

The Storyteller through Art: One girl loved drawing but struggled to speak in front of others during circle time. I observed her during free play, how she would "narrate" elaborate stories to herself while meticulously drawing. To encourage this, I introduced a "storytelling easel" with large paper and a variety of art supplies. I gave her a special “artist chair” during our sharing time, explicitly stating that she could share her drawing without having to speak, or just point. Gradually, her silent narratives during play translated into confident verbal sharing, as she found her voice through the visual stories she created and explained. Play allowed her to express herself safely before she was ready for verbal articulation.

The Problem-Solving Engineers: During sand play, a group of children wanted to create a "river" that flowed from one end of the sandbox to the other without spilling. This wasn't a teacher-directed task; it emerged organically from their play. They experimented with different containers, dug trenches, and used small scoops to direct the water. They encountered "engineering" challenges: the sand absorbed the water too quickly, or their "dam" wasn't strong enough. Through trial and error, negotiation, and collaboration (all components of their play!), they eventually created a successful, albeit small, river system. This seemingly simple play activity fostered critical thinking, collaboration, early physics concepts (water flow, absorption), and perseverance.

The Role-Playing Readers: We often set up a "Dramatic Play" center that transforms: one week it might be a grocery store, another a veterinarian's office, or even a spaceship. During "Grocery Store" week, I filled it with empty food boxes, toy money, and clipboards for "shopping lists." Children naturally began to write (or scribble) lists, read labels, count money, and take on roles. They were practicing early literacy (recognizing print, writing for a purpose), numeracy (counting, adding, subtracting), social skills (negotiating roles, turn-taking), and problem-solving (how to bag the groceries, how to pay). They were immersed in a real-world scenario, learning complex skills, all because they were playing.

Every strategy I used was grounded in observation, respect, and intentional care, always with play at its core, as the most natural pathway to growth.

📘 Frameworks I Follow: Play-Based Learning, Backed by Best Practice

My approach isn't just instinctual; it's aligned with respected early childhood frameworks that champion the power of play:

EYFS (UK): Promotes the "unique child" and emphasizes personal, social, and emotional development, all of which flourish in a play-rich environment.

British Curriculum: Highlights inclusive teaching and formative assessment, allowing us to assess children authentically within their play.

Canadian Kindergarten Program: Views children as capable and competent learners, with play-based, inquiry-driven approaches at its heart.

These aren’t just documents—they are tools that guide me to humanize education, recognizing that learning isn't confined to worksheets, but explodes with potential in every block tower, every imaginative adventure, and every shared laugh.

🎯 Final Reflection: Every Child, Every Day, Through Play

Supporting every child isn’t about grand gestures; it’s about daily, thoughtful acts, all woven into the fabric of a play-based classroom:

A smile at the door inviting them into a world of discovery.

A question during their play that invites deeper thinking and problem-solving.

A quiet check-in during independent exploration, acknowledging their efforts.

A word of encouragement that lights up a face as they master a new skill through playful persistence.

When we choose to see each child fully, embracing their natural inclination to play, we build a classroom where differences are celebrated, potential is unlocked, and every child knows they matter because their way of learning—through play—is honored and valued.

Meet Alex, a creative child who loves building Legos but struggles with reading. Like many kids with learning disabilities, Alex feels frustrated in school—but with the right support, they can thrive. 🌟

Learning disabilities, such as dyslexia, dyscalculia, dysgraphia, and ADHD, are not about intelligence; they’re about how the brain processes information. Early recognition and tailored strategies like Individualized Education Plans (IEPs), multi-sensory learning, and social skills training can make all the difference. 💡