The Art Of Observation

By Joanne EsserHave you ever watched an infant lying on her tummy trying to grab a colorful toy just beyond her reach? I mean really watch, without intervening or commenting or helping her along? There is a depth of concentration that is fascinating to see as she coordinates her brain, her eyes, the muscles of her torso, her arms and hands to work together to raise herself up, focus her eyes, stretch out and reach her fingers toward the object she wants. It is action linked to pure desire, a natural process that is entirely self-motivated. You can almost see the neurons sparking across synapses in her brain to connect her will to her actions.In the world-renowned preschools of Reggio Emilia, Italy, they describe teachers as researchers. The subject of our research is the child. Observation is the means by which we do this research. We step back, watch and listen to figure out a child’s aim, and study what actions he takes to try to achieve his goal. We know that young children are constantly engaged in the work of mastering their world - usually through play - whether that involves collecting information through the senses, practicing a physical skill, trying out language and vocabulary, relating to other people or using imagination to understand a concept. The teacher’s role is to observe the child’s actions and then to support the child’s attempts to accomplish their self-chosen task. It sometimes looks as though the teacher is doing nothing, since we intentionally hold back and wait rather than speak or interrupt. But that is often what’s required to allow genuine observation to happen.As researchers, teachers continually take notes, paying attention to the child’s nonverbal as well as verbal communication, her actions, emotions and language, even recording quotes from the child’s own words. We take many photographs and sometimes videos to make a record of what children are doing with their hands, their eyes, their bodies and facial expressions. We use our knowledge of child development and our teaching experience to give context to our observations, to theorize what a child is working on.For example, a teacher might watch as a child approaches a climbing wall for the first time. The teacher notes the child’s look of determination, or trepidation, or excitement. She begins taking photos as the child reaches up a hand or a foot, capturing the moment-by-moment decision-making. Perhaps another child comes over to give the climbing child a boost, or to offer some advice. The teacher jots down the conversation, recognizing the roots of a growing relationship between the two children. As the child struggles to manage the hand- and footholds, observation gives the teacher clues about the child’s persistence, stamina, resilience and physical skills. Later, the teacher might plan where the group will hike tomorrow, seeking new climbing challenges she guesses would be just right for the child.Like any researcher, we make use of the information we gather. We ask open-ended questions; we imagine possibilities and offer children new materials and experiences, with the intention of provoking their responses and thinking. We gather more data and study it for insights and potential next steps. Then we invite the points of view of others by sharing our photos and notes with parents and with our colleagues, continuing the research cycle.Parents can also be researchers as they practice the art of observation. Patient watching and listening often reveals the hundreds of small steps children take as they approach and eventually master a new task. It can be amazing and very satisfying as a parent (or grandparent!) to stand back and observe the miraculous way the young human brain constructs meaning, bit by bit.Our practice of observation also means that each child is seen and known. As the wise teacher and author Vivian Paley said, “The key is curiosity, and it is curiosity, not answers, that we model. As we seek to know more about a child, we demonstrate the acts of observing, listening, questioning and wondering. When we are curious about a child’s words and our responses to those words, the child feels respected. The child is respected. ‘What are the ideas that I have that are so interesting?...I must be somebody with good ideas.’ “