Category: News

  • Seeing What We Can Capture Together: Setting Up the Frame For Reflective Supervision/Consultation

    Seeing What We Can Capture Together: Setting Up the Frame For Reflective Supervision/Consultation

    In my work providing reflective supervision and consultation (RS/C) to groups and individuals, I consistently find parallels to my role as a mother of young children. Most recently, I sought to take a family photo — you know, one that looks joyful and warm, showing the connectedness and synchronicity my family and I feel with one another during our best moments together. But after a few attempts, I simply gave up.

    This failure to get a perfect family portrait got me wondering about the parallels to setting up a reflective experience for groups and individuals. Perhaps the first step to getting that magical photo is hiring a great photographer who can bring her skills and gifts to the photo session, who knows when a young child has simply had enough or needs a change of scenery, and who can identify when the lighting is poor or knows when she has finally gathered enough images. Similarly, providers of RS/C can hone their craft through ongoing training, learning the skills and practices that support others in settling into a reflective space, feeling held and supported in sharing their feelings authentically, and approaching their work with curiosity and openness. Through ongoing experience receiving and providing RS/C, consultants can build a capacity to trust in themselves, others, and the reflective process as a whole.

    In taking a photo, the next step is to choose a good enough time, when children are typically rested, open to new experiences, fed and happy. By some miracle that might align with a time when lighting in the environment makes everyone look wonderful and parents do not have to wake up before the sun to make everyone look polished and presentable. Similarly, consultants and supervisors can be thoughtful about the times, places, and routines they establish for regularly scheduled RS/C sessions. Personally, back-to-back pandemic video conference meetings without pre-scheduled breaks  do not put me in a state to listen intently, attune, and reflect with others. Rather, setting expectations and inviting participants to think about times and places that they can come together  with no interruptions impacts what we can achieve together moment to moment inside the frame of the RS/C session. Important, too, is allowing time to slow down when schedules are busy and everyone is able to attend to the experiences of others in the group or their own reflective process.

    Here is where things become complicated because the creation of a certain set of ideal circumstances can be difficult.  Even with the most thoughtful of plans, unexpected weather, illness, a disrupted routine, or any myriad of factors that might impact a small child’s mood or attention can derail his capacity to engage in a novel experience where he is expected to fully and joyfully engage with others.

    Like a parent in a family photo, consultants must also keep in mind that life is always happening outside the frame.

    Unexpected interruptions, overwhelming feelings of stress, busy schedules, a global pandemic, personal illness, or any number of factors might challenge or disrupt a supervisor or supervisee’s capacity to share their full attention with others in any given moment or session. The expression of hope for uninterrupted time to reflect, as well as acknowledgement of the challenges to this, can be discussed within the sessions on an ongoing basis. Perhaps now, in the midst of a pandemic, this should happen more than ever before.

    So, picture day arrives. We are rested, fed, and dressed appropriately. We arrive at our location, but how can we get everyone to look at the camera and smile? Moment to moment shared attention and connection seems like the tiniest task, but perhaps they are the most challenging. My family simply could not do it this year! We were able to explain hopes and expectations to my 5-year-old. She followed suit, showing up as her bubbly, big, performative self in a new and novel experience.  Throughout the session we bounced, rocked, shook toys, and made every silly noise we could think of for my more slow to warm 1-year-old as the photographer snapped away. However, that perfect picture of the four of us never came to fruition — someone was blinking, looking away, distracted trying to get another person to smile, disinterested, or crying.  The subsequent photos did not give anyone a sense of synchronicity and connectedness. Rather, you saw four different people, four different capacities for attention, four different emotional experiences, and four different moment-to-moment responses to our interactions with each other and the experience frame after frame.

    In the same way, even when consultants set up what appears to be an ideal set of circumstances to come together for dyadic or group reflection, there are still barriers to connecting with others in the reflective process. As consultants, we can certainly set up some guidelines for the reflective frame, such as letting participants know there might be a greater emphasis on the exploration of feelings and relationships or that supervisors may be “sitting on their hands” instead of problem solving. Yet all we can do is offer a gentle invitation into this way of thinking about themselves and their work, with the hope that everyone will engage, to the degree they can, in any given moment throughout our time together.

    Akin to those first few awkward snapshots where everyone in my family was trying to figure out what we were supposed to be doing and how we were supposed to be with one another, perhaps in the early moments of the supervisor/supervisee relationship or when reflection is still a novel experience, participants may have difficulty showing up authentically, sharing feelings or exploring vulnerabilities. In certain snapshots of an RS/C session, you may find participants responding reflexively to what they are presented with instead of remaining open and curious. Perhaps in those moments, consultants can offer questions that promote reflection, much like we tried to shake a toy outside the frame of our pictures, hoping to spark a moment of interest and joy.  One moment my 1-year-old burst into laughter, but the next a little too much noise and novelty led to tears. We did our best to anticipate what his responses might be. Similarly, as consultants we can anticipate, but cannot control how supervisees respond to our inquiries. Instead, we can simply offer the opportunity to respond authentically, and wonder about their experiences and feelings, as well as the experiences and feelings of others (baby, parent, caregiver or worker), with the hope that they will feel supported in their attempts to explore experiences and interactions in this way.

    Consultants, too, encounter their own barriers to being with others and inviting them into the reflective process. In my own set of family photos, I remember the difficulty of knowing where to focus my attention moment to moment. Do I smile at the camera, respond to the cues of my children, listen to the advice of the photographer or, in ideal moments, try to do all those things simultaneously? As consultants, we are trying to do many things at once: listen deeply, attune to an emotional undercurrent of the reflective process, hold our own internal experiences, and find a way to reflectively respond to others in a way that uniquely resonates with them moment to moment.

    In one moment or session, we may have trouble attuning to the thoughts, feelings and needs of supervisees because the relationship is still new, or because the narrative they are presenting pulls on something inside us or our own history that may merit greater exploration in our own RS/C. In another frame, our own drive to teach or move others toward the reflective space actually moves us further from a sense of attunement and connectedness. In another frame, we may find our internal curiosity about certain aspects of the family story, the baby, the parallel process, or the provider’s responses so compelling that we shift the shared attention to those aspects of the narrative without allowing supervisees to fully explore other aspects of their work.  On a personal note, I often wonder how my attempts to do so much during RS/C sessions interrupt my ability to model authenticity and offer genuine connection to others, which is the aspect of my work that brings me the most joy.

    In my opinion, the best family photos are filled with shared attention, connection, warmth, and authenticity. Sometimes there is just too much happening, outside the frame or within it, to cultivate those qualities in any given moment. My favorite family photos have not been staged or faked. Perhaps the most disruptive efforts to get anyone, though especially children, to take a “good picture” are the demands that they do so. In the same way, the idea that we can somehow force or fake connection or a reflective moment seems impossible.

    Rather, the process of connection and reflection is just that, a process we come in and out of, one we can cultivate, one we can explore, one we can practice, one we can strive for, and over time one we might come to trust in.

    When we are in it together, it’s a felt experience that holds for an entire session or a few fleeting frames.  Like my failed family photo attempts, in some sessions it never seems to materialize. When that is so, we can explore the experience, speculate about barriers, and support one another in trying again in our next session. Over time in group or individual RS/C, we will have a collection of snapshots that tell the story of our relationships to one another. Taken together, the snapshots reveal patterns for the ways in which we show up with each other. There will be moments we will look back on and laugh about, moments we are all looking different directions, moments where someone is distracted, moments filled with deep emotion, moments where we look lost, chaotic or awkward, and, if we are lucky, a few moments we cherish so deeply they are worth framing,

  • Interoception: Opening Up a New Window to Understand Behavior

    Interoception: Opening Up a New Window to Understand Behavior

    These articles, written by Ira Glovinsky, Ph.D., and Kelly Mahler, MS, OTR/L,  highlight their collaboration applying interoceptive work to infants and young children.

    Understanding interoception, a person’s awareness of internal bodily signals, will have major implications for our work with dysregulated young children. Since the 1940s there has been a continued increase in the number of younger and younger children who are experiencing disruptive behavior disorders and pediatric mood disorders. This presents difficulties in the parent-child relationship both at home and in the child-care setting. Children in pre-K or child- care settings are expelled 3.6 times more frequently than children who are being expelled from grades K-12 altogether (Gilliam, 2005). A new diagnosis in the DSM-5, Disruptive Mood Dysregulation Disorder is now being used to differentiate these children from children who are diagnosed with pediatric bipolar disorder. These are children who are overwhelmed by their emotions in home and school contexts where adults have little or no knowledge how to deal with them. These are children who cannot decode the emotional signals from their bodies and who do not receive these signals until it is too late to do something about it. Becoming attuned and knowledgeable about our interoceptive circuitry as well as learning more about interoception will enable us to do preventive work from the cradle on.

    Interoception: Opening Up a New Window to Understand Behavior

    When I first met Eden, a four-year-old girl, I was immediately drawn to her by the bright gleam in her eyes, her exuberant smile, and her spontaneous, and animated relating ability. Margaret Mahler (1975) referred to this characteristic in her work with very young as “sending power.” This referred to the child’s ability to send non-verbal signals to another person that evokes a return response. Daniel Stern (2010), using different terminology, referred to “vitality affects” as the dynamic energy of a stimulus, “its movement, time, force, space, and intention/directionality” (p.4).

    Eden did everything with forcefulness and energy.

    In interacting with her one had the feeling of being in the presence of a “jazz dancer.” She would react quickly, hit her high point almost instantaneously and remain at her peak level of intensity for a longer period of time than most children or adults. She was spontaneous and animated in her gestures; her body craved excitement and high-level stimulation.

    Eden’s parents, who were more reserved and low-keyed temperamentally, felt that her activity level and intensity were too high, and they were constantly telling her to “calm down!” Nothing they did seemed to work and her most predictable quality was her unpredictability. Her parents were told by family members, neighbors, and friends to work with her on breathing activities such as blowing bubbles or Itzy Bitzy Yoga (Garabedian, 2004) and Itzy Bitzy Yoga for Toddlers (Garabedian, 2008). However, calming activities made her more restless and irritable. Eden was filled with energy; pizzazz, was probably a better word, and she defined what Mahler (1975) described as a child’s “love affair with the world.”

    My first clue to the origin of her behaviors came when Eden burst into my office, loud, irritable, and teary. She exclaimed, “My mommy tells me to calm down! My mommy’s always yelling, ‘Eden calm down, calm down!’. Daddy comes home from work and yells, ‘Eden, calm down! Dr. G., what’s calm mean?” Her uncharacteristic, genuinely confused facial expression, her upset state, and intense body movements struck me.  I took out the book No, David!  (Shannon, 1998) and we began to look at it together. Page by page, she watched David in all sorts of antics that caused his mother to scream at him. By the end of the book she was laughing and exclaimed, “That’s like me!” Looking at her and matching her energy level, I exclaimed “And…that’s…not…calm!” She laughed, but appeared to get the picture without my verbal explanation.

    I began to ask Eden some questions about her awareness of some bodily states. I asked her how she knew she was hungry. She replied, “…don’t know!!” “How do you know when you’re sleepy?” “…don’t know!” When I saw Eden’s parents for a parent guidance session, I asked them about their experiences around eating and bedtime. Her mother responded, “If I didn’t tell Eden to eat, she would go the entire day without eating. Father chimed in and said that bedtime was always difficult because Eden “never got tired. She will just crash at some point!” If it was not for her general joyfulness, I thought that she would easily be a temperamentally “difficult child” (Thomas & Chess, 1968). But she wasn’t, she was fun to be around and very engaging!

    Children like Eden are often seen in the pediatrician’s office, and often referred for “parental exhaustion” syndrome, i.e., the parent who is unable to keep up with the child’s energy level. They are often scooped up into parent-child psychotherapy, sometimes individual therapy, or parent guidance sessions to discuss behavioral management. Strategies that might work for the practitioner’s child are often discussed, books that might work for the author’s child are recommended, but these children really need to be addressed with personalized medicine, a plan that embraces their individual differences and doesn’t come under our current  one size fits all approach. Often, when nothing works, there is a push to medicate — even with a four-year-old — in the hope that the child will be responsive so the practitioner doesn’t have to acknowledge that he or she doesn’t have a clue what to do!

                We are just beginning to learn that there are some children like Eden who truly have no awareness of their inner body states. We give them suggestions about how to deal with anger or frustration although the child does not have any idea what anger and frustration are.

    One young child told me that his therapist told him that anger was like a train that comes down the track. He said that he was told that he should think about anger like a train on an outside track and if you could see the train coming it would have a big light. “When you see the big light coming, take three deep breaths. That’s like anger. When you feel the angry feeling, take three deep breaths.”  The child then said to me, “That guy doesn’t get it!” “What doesn’t he get?” I replied. “I don’t feel anger coming down the track. I don’t feel my anger until the moment before I explode!” Giving such a child recommendations to breathe deeply does not work if the child does not experience the emotion until he is about to explode! Other children have an awareness of many feelings in their bodies but don’t know what they are. “I got lots of feelings!” one child exclaimed. “I don’t have a clue what they are!”

    In working with these children and in a serendipitous experience with Kelly Mahler, a gifted occupational therapist I met for the first time at the STAR Institute- #5 Symposium in Atlanta, Ga.,  (2018) where we both presented on the same day, I became aware of “the eighth sensory system.” We are aware of the five sensory systems: vision, hearing, taste, touch, and smell. Some of us are even aware of the sixth system, proprioception (perception or awareness of the position and movement of the body), and the seventh sense, vestibular (sense of balance), but few of us have heard of the eighth sense, interoception.  Interoception allows us to notice and interpret our bodily signals such as heart rate, muscle tension, skin moisture, bladder distention and so forth.

    Having now interviewed parents, worked with children and adolescents in therapy and seeing some major changes in children who have been seemingly resistant to treatment, focusing on the interoceptive system with families has underscored the importance of working with the body, noticing bodily sensations, linking these sensations to emotions, and then both to actions has enabled many children and adolescents to gain a higher level of control over themselves. The outcome of this work is linked to the foundation or development of reflective functioning. Being aware of what we are experiencing internally helps us form mental pictures and then to think about them, i.e., mentalization and reflection. Interoception is defined as, “the body-to-brain axis of signals originating from the internal body and visceral organs (such as gastrointestinal, respiratory, hormonal, and circulatory systems). It plays a unique role in ensuring homeostasis. Interoception therefore refers to the sensing of the state of the inner body and      its homeostatic needs, to the ever-fluctuating state of the body beneath its sensory (exteroceptive) and musculoskeletal sheath (De Preester & Tsakiris, 2019).

    Children presenting with interoceptive challenges are often misdiagnosed and misunderstood by clinicians and teachers. With the publication of Mahler’s first book, Interoception: The Eighth Sensory System (Mahler, 2015)  her sequel The Interoceptive Curriculum: A Step-By-Step Framework for Developing Mindful Self-Regulation (Mahler, 2019), we now have a tool that specifically describes, explains, and offers a treatment paradigm to put behavioral and mood disturbances under a microscope and address them more systematically and in a way that is understandable to professionals as well as parents and children. Through lessons that focus on noticing sensations in specific parts of the body, then attaching those sensations to emotions and then to actions, parents are reporting changes in children’s understanding of how their bodies actually feel because they develop the ability to notice and describe a wide variety of body-emotion connections.

    Connecting body sensations to emotions is a major milestone for children, adolescents, and adults. As adults, we frequently tell a child how he or she is feeling because we attend to facial expressions and body movements that evoke feelings in us. The problem is that the feelings that are evoked in us may have nothing to do with the feeling that the child is experiencing in the moment. In fact, our words can easily confuse a child who is feeling one emotion but being told by an adult that it is a different feeling. When we play with a child’s reality by giving the child a different reality, we are adding to their confusion about emotions. We are now beginning to understand that facial expressions may not reveal an individual’s emotions unless we totally understand the context. In the book How Emotions Are Made (Feldman-Barrett, 2018), there is a picture of a woman with her fists clenched and looking like she has been terrorized.  Most people looking at the picture would think that this woman is overwhelmed, negatively. But when the total context is then presented, it is revealed that the woman is Serena Williams expressing her elation at winning Wimbledon!

                Putting all of the pieces together, understanding interoception, and seeing how emotions are constructed in moment-to-moment experiences is opening up the door to meaningful and successful interventions.

    The therapeutic work that has been done on the body has been done primarily with adults. However, this type of work is most applicable to children who have a smaller “language toolbox” and are just learning about emotions. Children express their emotions through their bodies and through their actions before they develop an emotional vocabulary. Starting with interoception, using a paradigm of body-emotions-actions (Mahler, 2019) promotes meaningful transactions between children, parents, and professionals. It facilitates attunement, synchrony, and contingency with very young children, enabling us to join them in their worlds and to develop a higher level of understanding into the behaviors that we see in front of us, but have difficulty interpreting.

    References

    Barrett, L.F. (2018) How Emotions Are Made, New York: Mariner Books.

    Garabedian, H (2008) Itsy Bitsy Yoga for Toddlers. Cambridge, Mass.: Da Capo Press

    Garabedian, H. (2004) Itsy Bitsy Yoga. New York: Atria Books

    Mahler, K. (2015) Interoception: The Eighth Sensory System. Lenexa, Kansas: AAPC Publishing.

    Mahler, K. (2019) The Interoception Curriculum. kelly-mahler.com

    Mahler, M. (1975) The Psychological Birth of the Human Infant. New York: Basic Books

    Shannon, D. (1998) No, David. New York:  Blue Sky Press.

    Stern, D. (2010) Forms of Vitality: Exploring Dynamic Experience. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press.

    Thomas, A. & Chess, S. (1968) Temperament and Behavior Disorders in Children, New York: New York University Press.

  • Sarah

    Sarah

    Sarah was an angelic-looking, bright-eyed four-year-old girl. She had a gleaming smile, immediate approaching behavior, and exuberance, but she was exhausting to manage at home and in her preschool setting. Her parents contacted me because of her aggressive behavior and inability to control her impulses, her refusal to follow instructions and directions, and her lack of awareness of her physical strength. Sarah gave hugs like a “Mama Bear.” One of the first things that her mother said to me was, “She just doesn’t know how to be gentle! She’s like a bull in a china shop!”

    They sought treatment so they can help her adapt to situations better and to get along with other children better. Her mother would like help because she feels worn down!

    Historically, Sarah was a full-term infant weighing almost eight pounds and obtaining APGAR scores of 9 and 10 at one and five minutes respectively. During her first year the major problem was her recurrent ear infections; she was given ear tubes when she was two.  Sarah was breast-fed for about eight months, and her mother recalled that her sucking response was like a vacuum cleaner! She had a “voracious” appetite. Her sleep pattern was not unusual, but when she awakened, even as an infant, she was active, alert, intense, and wearing on her mother. Mother described her husband as “a saint! He was and is the only one who can keep up with her!”

    Sarah met developmental milestones on time; she began to present symptoms when she was about 2½. She had difficulty going along with family routines, was irritable, and very restless. She would get overly excited and was very difficult to calm down. Mother recalled that she was very sensitive to touch and would startle when she was touched. She began to display temper tantrums. Her over-excitability, restlessness, and tantrums have continued. She was described as one of the kids who goes from zero-to-sixty instantaneously. She had difficulty falling asleep and remaining asleep since she was about two. She never seemed to feel sleepy.

    Sarah’s family included her eight-year-old and six-month-old sisters. Her parents, married 12 years, met in high school. They described their marital relationship as positive for both. They shared the childcare and they were both supportive of each other. Sarah’s mother was 35 years of age, her father 39. Both parents had college degrees and worked in the medical field. Sarah attended nursery school five days a week and was then cared for by a nanny — who had been consistent in her life — until her parents came home between five and six o’clock.

    Mother stated that Sarah loved active, gross motor activities and had started a gymnastics class in which she was apparently doing well with the exception of having to be “corralled” to keep her in one place when she gets excited. She participated in all activities, but then want more and more when it is time to stop. She had boundless energy! Father commented on the fact that Sarah didn’t have an awareness of where her body stops and the next person’s body begins. She would run into people or objects and not feel pain, but when someone touched her, she over-reacted. Sarah also has displayed an interest in art and music and loves animals.

    On an attention questionnaire, her parents indicated that she loses focus unless she is very interested in an activity. Her days are either excellent or poor with little “in-betweens.” She generally has difficulty finishing something that she starts. Her attention is variable as she “tunes in” and “tunes out.” Often, her attention is hard to attract and her work in school has an unpredictable quality. She can enjoy an activity one day and then the very next day she will reject the same activity.

    Sarah was easily distracted by sounds and her parents felt that she did not attend to signals so she missed important information. She also was easily distracted by visual stimuli She craved excitement. Both parents agreed that she didn’t  think before she acted; she did the first thing that came to her mind, and she did too many things too quickly. She had difficulty making friends and she tended to spend a lot of time by herself. Punishment did not seem to affect her and she made the same mistakes over and over again. Talking to her about her behavior had no effect in changing her. In school she seemed to treat other kids like they are objects, bumping into them and pushing them out of the way.

    Sarah and her parents have been healthy,  and there are no significant medical, mental health, or learning problems in her parents or extended family members.

    According to the initial assessment process, several concerns presented by Sarah’s parents indicated that interoceptive awareness, or awareness of internal bodily signals, could be an area of challenge and warranted further investigation. Some of these reported concerns included:

     

    Reported Concern Possible relation to interoceptive awareness
    Sarah would get overly excited and had difficulty calming down. This could indicate that Sarah was unaware of her bodily and emotional responses, thus leading to an inability to self-regulate (the ability to notice how one feels precedes the ability to manage the feelings).
    Sarah was very sensitive to touch. Startled when she was touched.

     

    Many of the skin fibers traditionally thought to be part of the tactile system are now found to be part of the interoceptive system. Interoception influences the experience of social and pleasurable touch.
    Sarah has a high pain tolerance. She will run into people and not feel pain.

     

    Pain signals are processed by the interoceptive system; therefore this atypical pain experience may reflect an interoception issue.
    Sarah doesn’t know her own strength (giving bear hugs). She doesn’t know how to be gentle. She’s like a bull in a china shop. She has a lack of boundaries and does not seem to know where her body ends. This could indicate a global poor body awareness, which is a skill influenced by the interoceptive sense.

     

    Sarah does not seem to know when she is emotionally overloaded.

     

    Poor emotional awareness or understanding is a hallmark sign of poor interoception function. Interoceptive awareness provides the foundation of the emotional experience. The ability to notice and connect body signals to the meaning is what allows us to clearly identify what emotion we are experiencing.
    Sarah is exhausting to manage at home. She still has a strong need for external controls.

     

    This could indicate a lack of internal control caused by confusion or poor awareness of internal bodily (interoceptive) sensations.

    Intervention:

    Due to the possible interoception challenges affecting Sarah’s ability to successfully self-regulate, incorporating interoception into the therapy process was deemed appropriate. The Interoception Curriculum: A Step-by-Step Framework for Developing Mindful Self-Regulation (Mahler, 2019) provided the guide for implementation of this work.

    To start, the work focused on Sarah’s ability to notice body signals or to become more aware of her internal bodily experience.

    As outlined in Section 1 of the curriculum, each week Sarah focused on one body part, spending time engaging in fun activities designed to evoke sensations within that one body part, giving her practice noticing and describing the way that body part felt. For example, during the first session (week 1), Sarah, along with the parent in attendance, focused on the hands and explored all of the different ways their hands could feel using concrete Focus Area Experiments (e.g., putting hands in cool water, touching an ice cube, squeezing a ball, holding a handwarmer, blowing on the back of the hand, etc.).

    During the week, outside of the session, Sarah practiced noticing the way her hands felt during daily activities. She did this in two ways: Her parents would use IA on the Fly, which is a strategy where they used specific verbal prompts to ask Sarah how her hands were feeling. Sarah also practiced noticing body signals by completing Body Checks with her parents. This strategy uses a visual support that contains a body outline as well as body part icons that contain descriptor words she could use to describe the way each body part felt (see Picture 1). Sarah would complete the Body Check verbally with her mom or dad guiding her through noticing how her hands were feeling in that moment. Sarah’s parents also began completing their own Body Checks along with Sarah so that it became a structured activity that facilitated greater attachment and attunement.

    Picture 1: Sarah’s Body Check Chart.

    Sarah and her parents moved through this same process over the next few sessions (completing Focus Area Experiments during the session and Body Checks for positive practice during daily activities outside of the session), focusing on a different body part each week. The order of body parts, as listed in Table 2, moved from more concrete outer body parts to more abstract inside body parts. By the time she completed this process for eight out of 15 body parts included in the curriculum, Sarah was able to independently identify how each body part felt in the moment, using a wide range of age-appropriate descriptor language (due to her age, it was determined to focus on eight main body parts and her parents could use the same process to work on noticing body signals in more advanced body parts as Sarah matured).

    Week # Body Part of Focus
    Week 1 Hands
    Week 2 Feet
    Week 3 Mouth
    Week 4 Eyes
    Week 5 Ears
    Week 6 Skin
    Week 7 Muscles
    Week 8 Lungs

    As Sarah and her parents participated in the lessons from Section 2 of the curriculum, they practiced connecting body signals to a variety of emotions. For example, Sarah discovered that when her muscles felt “jumpy,” that was a clue that she was really excited.  Or when her mouth felt “dry,” that was a sign that she was thirsty. At home, parents were taught to use IA on the Fly (verbal prompts) to guide Sarah in connecting the body signals she noticed to the emotion (e.g., “Sarah, you said your eyes feel heavy. That is a great clue! What emotion could it mean?”) Wrapping up the curriculum with Section 3, Sarah was guided in discovering feel-good actions that helped her body feel comfortable.

    Clinical reasoning behind The Interoception Curriculum

    The Interoception Curriculum allowed Sarah to playfully gain understanding and control over body feelings via a systematic process. The work was thoughtfully chunked into small sections to make it manageable and not overwhelming (e.g., focusing on noticing body signals in one body part at a time). The process was predictable, which made it feel familiar and safe for Sarah and doable for her parents to incorporate into a busy family routine. Parents were involved in every step of the process, and focus was on empowering them to be able to support Sarah in developing clear body-emotion connections.

    Therapy often focuses on regulation or coping strategies and fails to account for the underlying mechanism (interoception) that serves as the alert to use the strategies.

    The process used with Sarah targeted the ability to notice and connect body signals, which served as her motivation to self-regulate.

    Due to this focus, Sarah gained a sense of control over her body feelings and became a notably more confident and regulated child.

    Implications for Infant and Early Childhood Mental Health

    Interoception is intimately tied to the infant population, and the implications for infant mental health interventions are enormous. Infants do not have the language to articulate their inner experience, but they do have the “body language” to express themselves, e.g., crying, prolonged irritability, and moodiness. As the infant matures and develops language, if we ask the right questions, we can become attuned to the child’s experience. In our clinical work if we begin to ask: “How do you know you’re angry?” rather than “Why are you angry?” we may get a shrug or the response “I don’t know,” and find out that the child is not receiving the interoceptive signals of anger.

    A young child with whom I worked stated, “I don’t feel anger until the moment before I explode.” All the mindfulness work that was attempted to help him calm down before he got too angry went nowhere because he was not receiving the signals. Other children tell us that they have lots of feelings, but they don’t know what they are because their interoceptive systems are not working efficiently and they cannot differentiate the signals. Interoceptive signals help us differentiate self from other, enabling the young child to recognize that feelings in an interaction belong to oneself or to the other.

    Interoception is a critical variable in infant-parent psychotherapy and brings a new dimension into our clinical work. The concept of interoception is essential in parent and professional training. Our experiences as infants become embodied and can affect our psychological development years later. I had firsthand experience with a young adult who had had a very serious urinary surgery when she was 18 months old. She came into therapy in her early 20s suffering from agoraphobia. She slowly made her own associations to the experiences of being taken away from her parents in the hospital, experiencing what felt like assault by doctors, being placed in a bare room in a crib with slats that confined her and experiencing an intensity of lighting that, as an adult, was similar to the lights in a friend’s house where she couldn’t get herself to sleep. As she became re-connected to these late infancy experiences and made her own connection to these experiences, she made major gains in therapy. She was able to do things for which she had been paralyzed until she began to understand these connections.

          If we help children get acquainted with their bodies from the beginning by helping them learn about sensations in each of their body parts, they begin to develop a sensations vocabulary and can tie these sensations together to develop an emotions vocabulary.

    As children develop this awareness, with caregiver support they develop actions or strategies to deal with what they are experiencing. This has the possibility to decrease the number of children who develop early mood and disruptive behavior disorders. If we know what we are feeling and where we are feeling it, we can prevent and intervene to decrease arousal and help very young children develop neurophysiological modulation, sensorimotor modulation, control, self-control, and then self-regulation (Kopp, 1982). Our understanding of individual differences among children and the patterns of arousal in each individual child will enable us to develop the prevention and intervention tools that are currently limited at home, in school, and in clinical settings. This work is clearly cutting edge, and we still have a great deal to learn about it.

    For further reading:

    Craig, A.D. (2009) How do you feel-now? The anterior insula and human awareness. Nature Review Neuroscience, 10, 59-70.

    Critchley, H.D., Wiens, S., Rotshtein, P., Ohman, A., Dolan, R.J. (2004) Neural systems supporting interoceptive awareness. Nature Neuroscience, 7, 189-195.

    Damasio, A. R. Descartes’ Error: Emotion, Reason, and the Human Brain. New York: Picador.

    Gilliam, Walter. “Pre–K Students Expelled at More Than Three Times the Rate of K–12 Students.” Yale News, 12 Sept. 2011, news.yale.edu/2005/05/17/pre-k-students-expelled-more-three-times-rate-k-12-students-0.

    Fotopoulou, A. & Tsakiris, A. & Tsakiris, M (2017) Mentalizing homeostasis: The social origins of interoceptive inference. Neuropsychoanalysis, 19 (1), 3-28.

    Kopp, C. (1982) The antecedents of self-regulation: A developmental perspective, Developmental Psychology,18 (2), 199-214.

    Mahler, K.  (2019) The Interoception Curriculum: A Step-by-Step Framework for Developing Mindful Self-Regulation

    Oestergaard Hagelquist, J. (2015) The Mentalization Handbook London, UK: Karnac

    Thompson, R. (1988) Emotion and self-regulation. In Thompson, R. (1988) Socioemotional Development, Lincoln, Neb.: University of Nebraska Press.

    Van der Kolk, B. (2015) The Body Keeps the Score. London, UK: Penguin Books.

  • Interoception and Infant Mental Health: An Exquisite Fit

    Interoception and Infant Mental Health: An Exquisite Fit

    Interoception as a Foundation of Infant Mental health     

    We see interoception as a foundational concept for infant mental health. Our early development of a sense of self is an “embodied” sense of self that occurs prior to the development of a “mindful” sense of self. There has been an ongoing debate since the time of Freud regarding the origin of the self. Is the origin of the self related to the body and the sensory system or is the origin of the self related to social interactions?  Recently, Fotopoulou & Tsdakiris (2017) proposed that “building a mind, and understanding other minds, are embodied and tightly connected processes.” We argue that the constitution of the self is dependent upon the social mentalization of the body and particularly its homeostatic needs. In short, the radical aspect of our proposal is that social interactions do not shape only the reflective (narrative or extended) self and related notions of affect regulation and social cognition. Instead, the most minimal aspects of selfhood, namely the feeling of being an embodied agentive subject are fundamentally shaped by embodied interactions with other people in early infancy and beyond. Progressively these embodied interactions allow the developing organism to mentalize its homeostasis and hence they constitute the core of our objective subjectivity.

    Sensory Systems are Developing in Utero

    How might these systems be linked in infancy and what are the implications? First, our sensory systems are developing in utero so that sensory input is being processed even before the infant is born.

     The development of the tactile system

    The tactile system is the first system to develop in utero and is the most mature system at birth. By the fifth gestational week, the embryo is able to sense pressure in the lips as well as the nose. By nine weeks gestation pressure is also sensed in the fetal arms, chin, and eyelids, and by 10 weeks the fetus is experiencing sense pressure in the legs. By 14 weeks, a healthy fetus can sense pressure in most of the body. In the fetus’ third trimester the touch sensors in the fetal skin are becoming wired into the insular cortex of the brain where the fetus can respond to the contextual features of touch (Weinstein, 2016, p. 128). Tactile awareness in the back and top of the head does not develop until the infant is born and this may enable the infant to weather the experience of labor and birth (Weinstein, 2016, p. 128). Touch is a primary sense for attachment formation.

    The development of sight

    The optic primordium cells that are necessary for the development of vision begin to form at about 28 days of gestation and, at approximately two months’ gestation, there are axon connections that form as the eyes grow and move from behind the cranium to their front positions. Between 14 and 28 weeks gestation there are about 100 million neurons that have formed but are not yet connected. The infant can see light through the mother’s belly and amniotic fluid by the last trimester (Weinstein, 2016, p.127).

    The development of taste

    By eight weeks gestation there are taste buds on the tongue. These buds are further formed around the mouth at 13 weeks. The fetus is able to taste amniotic fluid by four months gestation (Weinstein, 2016, p. 127).

    The development of smell

    By eight weeks gestation the fetal olfactory sense is near full maturation and by the end of the first trimester the main olfactory subsystem is a functioning sensory system. Smell receptors are functioning by 10 weeks gestation. Thus, the fetal olfactory system is working before the child is born. The smell of amniotic fluid, which is similar to the scent of breastmilk is already beginning to become familiar to the fetus.

    Auditory system

    Three-and-a-half weeks after fertilization the ears are beginning to differentiate (Weinstein, 2016, p. 126). The fetus is able to hear by the end of the middle of the second trimester (Weinstein, 2016, p. 126). Auditory information can be carried from the ear to the brain by four to five months gestation when the eighth cranial nerve is developed.  Weinstein (2016) notes that the most consistent sounds and rhythms that the fetus is hearing are the mother’s heartbeat as well as her voice. She also adds that the fetus (prenate) can respond to sound as well as indicate sound preferences by 23 weeks gestation and three weeks later is learning intonation, rhythm and other maternal speech patterns. By 34 weeks the fetal auditory threshold levels are comparable to adult preferences (Weinstein, 2016, p. 127).

    The development of the proprioceptive and vestibular systems

    Beyond the more well-known five senses, the proprioceptive and vestibular systems — ; sixth and seventh respectively — also play important roles in an infant and young child’s development The proprioceptive system functions and enables the infant to feel a sense of location as well as the position of different parts of the body in space and in relation to other animate and inanimate objects. It also enables the infant to have an inner awareness of body posture (Williamson & Anzalone, 2001). Williamson & Anzalone (2001) state that proprioception gives us information about the body’s orientation in space as well as the relation of other body parts to each other, the rate and timing of our movements as we move, the force that our muscles exert, how fast and much our muscles are lengthened or shortened when we engage in activities, and the angles at which each of our joints change as we move. Because the fetus moves in utero, the proprioceptive receptors enable the fetus to practice movements even before the infant is born. (Weinstein, 2016, p. 129). Our proprioceptive sense enables us to develop a schema of our body, i.e., a physical sense of self, an inner awareness of our body parts and how they relate to our larger body systems, and how these parts move through space (Williamson & Anzalone, 2001, p. 9-10).

    The vestibular system that is in the bony labyrinth of the skull is also attached to our hearing mechanism. This system is comprised of three structures in our inner ears: the semicircular canals, the saccule, and the utricle. The semicircular canals enable us to register the speed, force, and direction as we turn our heads when we look around or when we swing. The functions of the vestibular system include the regulation of our muscle tone and coordination, our balance and equilibrium, the control of our eye movements so that we can maintain a stable visual field when we move, our maintaining and transitioning of our states of arousal, and our levels of attention (Williamson & Anzalone, 2001, p.8). Vestibular functioning that helps the body’s response to head movement and gravity is functioning early in gestation (Weinstein, 2016, p. 12-129).

    What goes on even before an infant is born can impact the architecture and development of the fetus, programming the fetus to the kind of stimulation that will be experienced after birth.

    Thus, a calm fetal environment prepares the fetus to engage with a calm postnatal environment. A stressful prenatal environment prepares the fetus to deal with similar stimulation after birth. If the external environment that is experienced after birth is different from the environment that the fetus has experienced in utero, the infant will not be prepared for that environment and this has important consequences for the infant’s interoceptive development and adaptation.

    When the baby is born, he or she is placed on the mother’s abdomen and both partners experience body-to-body contact. The mother’s interoceptive system is fully functioning and the experience of the baby’s body on her resonates throughout her system. The experience is on a positive-negative continuum as well as on a high-low arousal intensity. The baby is experiencing visceral stimulation of warmth or coolness, softness or rigidity of the mother’s body, the sounds, intensity of light of the neonatal context. Over time the infant begins to form the seeds of his or her internal working model of the world. These experiences energize the interoceptive systems of both partners and are the earliest components in the development of attachment. When things go right for both the mother and the baby, the roots of a secure attachment begin to be experienced. However, when things do not go well, the stress system for both partners becomes activated. Such experiences may form the earliest foundation and predisposition of mood disturbances. This is an area for further study.

    When the Hypothalamic-Pituitary-Adrenal (HPA) system is activated there is an increase of cortisol and the amount of blood that is pumped by the heart increases and the release of epinephrine cause the contractions of the heart muscles to increase. This is an interoceptive signal. When the HPA system in the infant begins to function, the release of these chemicals affect the developing emotional system of the child and most likely impinge on the development of the attachment and social systems. There is not yet data in infants to map the development of the interoceptive system, but we do have the tools to assess changes in the stress and attachment .

    Research into the interoceptive system, stress system, and attachment system is imperative. If an infant or toddler has certain experiences or doesn’t have certain experiences, often the outcomes seem inevitable. More continues to be discovered about neurological and systems plasticity every day. Due to these growing discoveries, infant and early childhood professionals need to be proactive but cautious, and evaluations should be longitudinal rather than static and interdisciplinary and collaborative.

    Implications for infant mental health

    Infant mental health intervention is dyadic intervention; the port of entry is the infant-parent system. The infant affects the family system as the family system affects the infant. This has major implications for intervention. This fits in with interoceptive difficulties as well. In treating infants, toddlers, and preschoolers it is necessary to work with the parent-child system rather than with the infant, toddler, or preschooler alone.

    The development of self-regulation is a primary outcome of interoceptive treatment, and this cannot occur unless the parent and infant, toddler, or preschooler are treated together.

    Self-regulation is the foundation of mental health adjustment for all of us. If we are not able to modulate our neurophysiology, modulate our sensory systems, or develop control, self-control, and self-regulation we cannot function efficiently within any environment. Engagement, back-and-forth interactions, contingency, sharing, ideas, and eventually healthy reality sense, reality testing, and reality adaptation are dependent upon self-regulation. It starts from the outside (caregiver) being the external regulator,  while the caregiver’s regulatory techniques scaffold the child’s self-regulation skills.

    The caregiver acts as a social biofeedback machine in which the infant learns about their internal signals and emotions through the caregiver’s feedback and response to their expressive cues (Buck, 1989). For example, at birth, initially the sensation of hunger is simply a vague, unpleasant feeling and the infant learns through interactions with the caregiver about the meaning and motivational value of the internal sensation of hunger (Harshaw, 2008). Taken together, the infant-caregiver relationship potentially influences the infant’s ability to:

    1. Notice internal body signals: The infant recognizes body signals as important constructs that are validated and tended to consistently by the caregiver
    2. Connect the body signals to the emotion: The infant begins to accurately interpret body signals through the feedback provided by the caregiver
    3. Regulate by using a feel-good action: The infant learns to self-regulate through the observation of the strategies used by the caregiver to co-regulate

    Future Considerations

    To date, the interoceptive literature has been primarily anatomical and theoretical. Kelly Mahler is a pioneer in intervention with children. Her model fits exquisitely with the infant mental health model of treatment. Presently, her curriculum is used primarily with three-year-olds  and up, but with modifications it can be used with children as young as two. Working with children involves developing a vocabulary of sensations, and then an emotional vocabulary, before developing action strategies. These vocabularies stretch the range of words for sensations and emotions. The work of Lisa Feldman Barrett has shown that our emotional vocabularies tend to be limited and we do not spend time teaching children to differentiate gradients of sensations and emotions. Thus, by working with the dyad, both parent and child are learning about the different interoceptive experiences as well as the gradient of intensities that contribute to our individual differences.

    By developing tools and techniques to help infants and toddlers to become maximally aware of their bodies and their interoceptive signals, there is more opportunity for doing preventive interventions. This will broaden the field of infant mental health intervention services. As more research is done on the development of interoception from infancy onward, the melding of interoception with infant mental health will be a powerful combination for treatment. This series of articles provides a beginning for researchers and practitioners to include the literature on interoception as a central foundation concept in infant mental health training programs.

    Buck R. Emotional communication in personal relationships: A developmental-interactionist view. In: Hendrick C, editor. Close relationships. Newbury Park, CA: Sage; 1989. pp. 144–163.

    Bruch H. Hunger and Instinct. Journal of Nervous and Mental Disease. 1969;149:91–114.

    Harshaw, C. (2008). Alimentary epigenetics: A developmental psychobiological systems view of the perception of hunger, thirst and satiety. Developmental Review28(4), 541-569.

    Oldroyd, K., Pasupathi, M., & Wainryb, C. (2019). Social Antecedents to the Development of Interoception: Attachment Related Processes Are Associated With Interoception. Frontiers in psychology10.

  • Preschool: The celebration of wonder and connection to home

    Preschool: The celebration of wonder and connection to home

    The Michigan Association of Infant Mental Health sponsored this series of developmental articles to help us all reflect on the journey of parents and children from pregnancy through early childhood. This article explores the emerging preschooler and the wonderful, tumultuous transformation that the parent-child dyad experiences. On the shoulders of giants, this article attempts to build upon the writings on pregnancy, infancy, and toddlerhood presented over the past year by Michael Trout, Julie Ribaudo and Kathleen Baltman. Moving from the inner relationship in pregnancy through the beginnings of the attachment relationship and on through the emergence of the ME of toddlerhood, we are called to pause and remember the roots of our work, the space of the beginnings, the landscape of the children and families we serve.

    Look at the world through the eyes of a preschooler — full of the delights of imagination, friendship, and stories. This is a time of transition for children and parents, centered on the balance of exploration and holding, independence and connection.

    The primary caregiver continues to be vital in the preschool period, although the growing focus of social exploration can challenge this tenet.

    As the preschooler tries on new roles, new relationships, and new opinions, there can be a misperception that the attachment figure is optional or secondary.

    Marvin & Britner (2008) write about the need for attachment to remain “the holding environment to do the work of exploration and sociability” as the preschooler naturally feels drawn into the world beyond their front door. The parent-child relationship is the vital space of scaffolding, quiet attending, restoration, and repair in response to the brave trips into the big, exciting world. Shifting to more of a base camp mentality, the attachment relationship is vital for the child to recharge, share the stories of successes and failures, and be a laboratory for learning and developing more strategies needed for climbing up the mountain of the preschool classroom. Erna Furman, in her article Early Aspects of Mothering: Why it’s so hard to be left, writes of the role of this safe haven in preschool. “He (the preschooler) may need her (his mother’s) help with his own conflicted feelings and worries about his new venture, or he may need her assurance that she can tolerate his absence and can even share his enjoyment of new relationships and independent activities” (1982).

    Attachment in the Preschool Period 

    How the preschool child uses the attachment figure changes dramatically during this developmental period. While attachment “requires renegotiation at every developmental stage” (Moss et al., 2004), the milestones unique to this period exert a strong influence on how the interactions in the dyad are maintained and expanded. Preschoolers become increasingly aware of self and their own effect on others. Through experiments, the young preschooler begins to notice how he can affect their caregiver’s reactions, or even alter situations. In their foundational book, Touchpoints Three to Six, Drs. T. Berry Brazelton and Joshua Sparrow write about these “aha!” moments for young children. Like ripples in a pond, the child notices that their intentional (or unintentional!) expression of feelings, needs, and desires can change how the parent responds. At first accidental, these exciting and intense interactions teach a child that they have some control in their relationships and surroundings. Over time, and with practice, children learn to use various modes of communication to effect change.

    John Bowlby explains these changes in the attachment relationship as the movement into a “goal-corrected partnership” (Bowlby, 1953).  Part of the child’s work of exploration is the realization of and curiosity about the fact that their parents have their own independent thoughts, feelings, desires and plans. Within a secure relationship, the young child is able to experience the discordance of differing agendas. With a good measure of increasing impulse control, coupled with an increase in empathy and a growing understanding of cause and effect, the preschooler begins engaging in negotiations with the primary caregiver, jointly creating strategies and new attachment schemas.  (Marvin, 1977).

    Bowlby’s Internal Working Model (IWM) helps illuminate this crucial, early life transition. A blueprint for relationships, the child’s IWM is a compilation of their experience of deserving care, how efficacious they are in eliciting help, and the type of help that is available for them during times of distress. A child’s positive IWM, the memory of parental safety and care, is a source of internal strength when away from their attachment figure. During these moments, the preschooler uses her growing developmental skills of metallization, memory, and symbolism through her IWM to manage the challenges and stressors of exploration. Doug Davies, LMSW, PhD., in his book Child Development (2005), discusses this emerging representational competence, which he describes as the creation of mental schemas of interactions, feelings, thoughts, and sensory experiences. On the surface, preschoolers with “good enough” IWMs appear self-reliant, not needing their attachment figure for regulation. However, looking more deeply you will see that they are actually leaning on caregiving memories to modulate their emotions. Through a growing sense of time, the ability to use routine and rituals as time markers and, most important, these reliable IWM  schemas, preschoolers and older children reassure themselves that they are being “held in mind” by their caregiver who will return, and restore the child’s emotional balance.

    Developing Friendships

    While out in the world, the preschooler uses their IWM’s “implicit and explicit rules for social behavior and interaction” (Marvin & Britner, 2008) as a base to do the work of friendships, a key developmental milestone. Whether in the preschool classroom or in the community, preschoolers enter interactions with new caregivers or peers with the memories and expectations of their primary attachment relationship, and, when that relationship has been secure, view themselves as deserving of care, and capable of eliciting connection and support. In addition, they use the internalization of their family’s values and beliefs to guide how they treat others. The security of their IWM provides the foundation for their self-control and emotional regulation, which directly affects the ease in which they engage with others.

    Awareness of peers, interest in their perspectives, and building friendships are central developmental goals for this period. A preschooler becomes curious and their attention shifts to being alongside and then with another child as they play. The increased ability to keep another’s perspective in mind, and the joy and success in meaningful peer relationships is self-motivating.

    A preschooler and older child’s attachment styles affect their social competence, peer relationships, and future school success.

    Language and play skills can especially affect a child’s success or challenges in peer relationships. An older preschooler begins to use language as a way to enter play or interaction with another child, negotiate play content, or work together to develop co-constructive plans. A less adept child who struggles with fluent, coherent language may have difficulty making and interacting with friends. Since same-aged children are less likely to work harder to understand the less capable preschooler, this difficulty in communication can lead to rejection by peers, creating an additive negative effect on language and subsequent social skills. Again, the attachment relationship has a central role in helping a preschooler integrate, understand, and problem solve new perspectives, interactions and activities.

    Play

    Play becomes an amazing tool in negotiating these new relationships and experiences, taking on an array of functions: a way of communicating, joining with others, expanding developmental skills and processing an expanding view of the universe. Believing that play can be a window into the child’s mind, Piaget urged all professionals to look more deeply into the meaning behind all levels of play in young children. Play can become a space for children to express, question, and understand an array of emotions and experiences. “Symbolism (in play) provides the child with the live, dynamic, individual language indispensable for the expression of his subjective feelings for which collective language alone is inadequate” (Piaget, 1999). The child can explore anxieties and confusion through bending reality through their highly creative fantasy life.

    “In play, a child is always above his average age, above his daily behavior; in play, it is as though he were a head taller than himself” (Vygotsky, 1978).

    From this area of strength, the child has the ability to face intense experiences and feelings. Doug Davies states that, “Play allows the child to comment on and try to understand reality through a make-believe medium that is under the child’s control and therefore more easily manipulated than the actual world” (2011).

    Pretend play can become the safe framework for making difficult concepts more tolerable for the young fragile self.

    While in a play episode, children can reenact trauma memories or reminders, which can sometimes be eerily close to reality, such as a foster child locking animals in jail. Other times, the metaphor of a play episode may be vague and obscured, requiring more repetition, elaboration, and time for full understanding.

    Billy was a 4-year old whose father left the family without much notice when Billy was a toddler. His mother believed he was better off without him and was confident she was “enough” for him. Billy was highly emotional, had difficulty with peers, and resisted separation from his mother. In play, Billy quickly moved through various animals, people, and events, from story to story, at times without apparent cohesion. As his mother continued to witness his narrative in play, she began to see his theme: Billy was replaying times he had spent with his mother and father together. She discussed her surprise about his ability to recall these very early memories. As we allowed his play to continue, his mother was able (with the writer’s support) to begin voicing his memories, “I remember when we all did X…” As she retold the stories of the play themes, Billy’s play became more cohesive. Mother became braver and began speaking more directly of his father, her own denied sadness regarding his absence, and her wish that he was present. Billy’s story changed to a theme of loss, horses searching for a leader. With the writer’s encouragement, the mother became her own horse and took the lead. As the horses calmed in the story, Billy’s play changed to themes that are more typical, without repetitive trauma or intense meanings. He no longer repeated the themes of loss or aching nostalgia. Nearing the end of treatment the mother said to the writer, “From the beginning you wondered if he was missing his Dad and I thought for sure he wasn’t, being quite adamant about this subject. I did not believe he could remember him, let alone miss him. I see now he did.”

    Many scholars have created theories for understanding how children use play in all developmental domains. In the area of social-emotional growth, Mildred Parten expanded on Jean Piaget’s foundational work recognizing the sophistication within the play of the very young child to create a model of social stages of play. Parten’s stages consist of solitary play — playing alone though around others; parallel play — playing alongside others; associative play — playing separately but where there is an exchange of items and interactions; and cooperative play — playing with others, involving negotiation and co-creation of play themes and metaphor. Her structure looks at how the child uses play to move gradually into direct relationship with others, especially peers. Awareness of these stages and theories, and how a child moves in and out of mastery of these concepts, can help adults understand many areas of development, and in turn learn how to support and encourage development. (For an overview of different play theories see Bulgarelli, D. & Bianquin, N. (2017).

    The beauty of play is that it is very resilient and can communicate the inner world of the young child, but it too is susceptible to stress. Unfortunately, “(if) the play frame is not strong enough to contain frightening feelings and a child breaks off the play” (Davies, 2011), the child may regress to a lower level to developmental play. The child may lose the ability to use symbolic play, or pretend play, and fall back into sensorimotor type play — the use of objects in a functional, movement-focused manner.  With awareness and knowledge of play development, a sensitive adult can see this regression as a sign of dysregulation. Fortunately, with emotional scaffolding from a responsive, attuned caregiver, the child may be able to return to the overwhelming emotions and use dyadic play to understand and master intense feelings.

    Development and Regulation   

    Development itself can be a victim of the passage of time, even for a preschooler. Since developmental gains build on previous mastery, lags or challenges in specific domains can have a cascading effect. It is challenging to keep pregnancy, infancy and toddlerhood in mind when assessing and intervening with children of this age, but it is imperative to explore all phases of the child and family’s life so that the gaps in development and areas of regressive behavior can be recognized and used to inform and support the family. This highlights the difference between a child’s chronological age and developmental age, especially when the child is under stress. Through observation, an adult can take this developmental knowledge and begin to learn the child’s subtle cues of competency and distress and through this understand the underlying need for scaffolding and support. This discernment can lead to more sophisticated assessments and ports of entry for the dyadic work. This detective work can be difficult and requires patience, practice, and a calm center from the responsive adult.

    As we have discussed, development takes place on both an internal and external level, and is a unique journey for all children. Unfortunately, all development is highly susceptible to inner and outer stressors and regulation capacities. Why is it that the same child who can discuss the correct prehistoric age of a dinosaur at one moment becomes unable to access this coherent language when distressed? When too stressed and unable to stay well regulated, a child may revert to previously mastered coping and communication skills to feel safe and in control. Similarly, when an agitated or fearful toddler suddenly trips and falls, he will revert to more toddler-like communication and strategies. This can be confusing for the adults in their lives, especially secondary caregivers like teachers. Less familiar adults may expect these children to use their new expressive language skills at all times, which may heighten anxiety in an already stressed child. For example, a well-intentioned adult may instruct a child who is in a conflict with another child to “use your words.”  Unfortunately, the acquisition of a skill and the mastery and use of that skill as the default mode of communication can take many more years of practice, patience, and learning. To complicate things even more, often there may seem to be a dissolution of skills out of the blue when triggered by a purely internal stressor.  Without a developmental lens this screaming child may seem to be manipulative or even spoiled because he needs to connect with the adult, but has fewer resources and capacities in that moment.

    Many unseen stressors can also overload the preschooler’s ability to cope with new developmental anxieties: For example, the new mastery of bodily functions, such as toileting, can be a source of worry regarding any failures in maintaining this milestone.

    The focus on peers and friendship also opens up concern about rejection and disapproval, while their feelings of anger can elicit fears of being out of control or of being inherently bad. Magical thinking, while a source of joy and curiosity in play, can lead to false beliefs through the lens of egocentrism. Emotionally evocative situations, such as parental divorce, can lead to misunderstandings for the young child. In the absence of information and understanding at their developmental level, the child may use their inconsistent grasp on reality and cause and effect to develop an alternate narrative, with themselves as the central player in the story. The more aware we adult companions are of these internal struggles, the more we can give voice to assumptions and clear up misperceptions.

    The role of the nurturing, in-charge caregiver re-establishes the world as a safe, predictable, understandable place, allowing the child to return to a curious, engaging stance.

    Through self-talk by the parent, or co-construction of an emotional narrative, or a reassuring glance, an attachment figure can shore up the child to do the hard work of growing into new skills. Over time, adults learn the child’s patterns of stress and skill regression and can use new attachment tools of language, storytelling, and play to support the child through challenging times.

    Understanding Attachment in the Preschool Period

    Ultimately, the role of the attachment figure still plays a foundational component for the preschooler’s development. To better understand the expression of and role of attachment during this time, researchers Cassidy and Main, and Cassidy and Marvin adapted Mary Ainsworth and Mary Main’s infant and toddler attachment classification system. Ainsworth and Main developed these categories based on observation of infant-caregiver separations and reunions using the Strange Situation, a standardized laboratory procedure. Through their work, reunion behaviors were found to be indicative of the quality of attachment, due to the importance of reconnection with the caregiver as a safe haven, a place to be received, calmed, and restored. Cassidy, Marvin, and Main found that based on changes in internal and external developmental skills in preschool, the ways in which the 3- to 6-year-old and their parents negotiate the attachment relationship changes greatly throughout this period.  Therefore, preschool attachment was expanded to include: Secure, Insecure-Avoidant, Insecure-Ambivalent/Dependent, Insecure-Disorganized/Controlling, and Insecure-Disorganized/Other. (For a through explanation and description, see Humber and Ross 2005.)

    Secure Attachment in Preschool  

    The Secure preschooler displays increased ability to remain calm and either play alone or seek out the “friendly stranger” at separation. Upon reunion, this child is usually calm, relaxed, and confident. They demonstrate openness to verbally expressing their dissatisfaction about the separation, and are more willing to accept the parent’s explanation and response about the separation as part of their ability to regain composure. Secure preschoolers use language in increasing frequency over the strategy of proximity seeking. The parent is open and accepting of the child’s dissatisfaction and negative expression about the separation, and is able to validate their feelings, provide context for the stressor, and follow the child’s lead. The child then is able to return to play, providing a narrative about what she was doing in the caregiver’s absence and plans for future play and engagement. Original attachment strategies, such as proximity seeking and gaze and affective holding are still important for the secure preschooler, especially during heightened times of stress, such as long separations and novel or evocative experiences.

    The Securely attached preschooler has a consistent, sensitive, responsive parent, similar to the infant and toddler. These caregivers increase their use of language and play to provide the emotional scaffolding needed for the child. Through open emotional expression of increasingly complex feeling states and use of self-talk as a way to model problem solving for the child, there are ample opportunities to practice self-regulation skills. These parents demonstrate vulnerability and openness about themselves and are socially competent and accepting (Cassidy & Main, 1993). Secure caregivers see the negotiation and co-creation of narrative and problem solving as growth for the child (though the constant “whys?” can try even the most patient parent). Through attunement, balanced emotional expression, and respect for reciprocity, the preschool parent encourages the initiative and engagement of the child.

    Insecure-Avoidant Attachment in Preschool

    The preschooler with an Insecure-Avoidant classification displays “neutral coolness toward the parent, with a minimizing of physical or verbal contact” (Moss, Berrera, et al, 2004) upon reunion. During the Strange Situation assessment, this child deflects any attempts by the parent to reconnect. The child turns away to play, does not answer questions from the parent, or responds in a curt fashion, and chooses not to engage in any conversations about the separation, themselves, or their play. The children become detached from the caregiver in stressful situations, and minimize any expression of negative affect. One noticeable effect on learning and expression is this child’s “falling into parallel play … (or) highly individualized task-oriented mode with little interpersonal content” (Humber & Moss, 2005) seemingly due to the inability to use the caregiver as a safe secure base.

    Insecure-Ambivalent/Dependent in Preschool

    The second insecure classification is Insecure-Ambivalent/Dependent. Similar to the ambivalent infant/toddler style, these children show exaggerated involvement with the caregiver. Contrary to their developmental level or skill level, these preschool children stay connected with their caregiver through immaturity or can display subtle signs of anger.  Separations are long, arduous negotiations, with high degrees of conflict and highly evocative content. The child may disintegrate to the point of tantrums, cajoling the caregiver to stay though the triggering of guilt. The caregiver on the other hand is less emotionally available, with lower use of language for connection or elaboration (Huber & Moss, 2005, Moss, Bureau et al, 2004).

    Disorganized attachment in Preschool

    Disorganized attachment styles become two different categories in the preschool period: Insecure-Disorganized/Controlling and Insecure-Disorganized/Other. Lyons-Ruth et al. (1999) describe the Disorganized/Controlling strategy as “one partner’s initiatives are elaborated at the expense of the other partner’s.” Marked by the presence of role reversal, the child becomes either punitive or excessively caregiving to assert control within the environment. In relationship with the victimized parent, the child provides an emotional framework to compensate for the passive, inconsistent parent. Driven by hypervigilance, the child works hard to bring the parent to life or keep them in a good mood. This may be the overblown “performer child” or the child who is excessively comforting to their parent when they are distressed. On the other side, the punitive child becomes verbally or even physically aggressive, demeaning, and derogatory in the face of fear or through over-identification with the aggressor (Moss, Cyr, & Bureau, 2005; Marvin & Britner, 1999).  The final category, Insecure-Disorganized/Other retains the lack of predictable attachment strategy in the face of stress, displaying erratic, inconsistent behaviors and regulation.

    Caregiving in the Preschool period — “Oh baby it’s a wild world” 

    Attachment styles, and their corresponding IWM, are strong but are also sensitive to intentional, attuned caregiving. Parents through dyadic work can repair the challenged relationships with their child. Through the disconfirmation of the child’s expectations, attachment figures can create a different lived experience. In his article about a therapeutic preschool, Doug Davis speaks of supporting teachers in identifying each child’s IWM. From this curious mindset, he encouraged them to identify how these children viewed adults in their lives. Were they helpful? Hurtful? Predictable? From these explorative reflections, teachers were encouraged to demonstrate predictability, sensitivity, and empathy (Davies, 2010).

    Through the safe holding environment of the therapist-parent relationship, parents too can develop a curiosity about what their children are displaying and learn how to respond to the need, not the lead in their interactions. Through ongoing consistency and predictability there can be healing. This process can be slow, and change seemingly microscopic, but it will benefit the child throughout their entire life.

    Let us also always remember the importance of relationship for both sides in the preschool-parent dyad. As parent and child move together out of toddlerhood, the parent does not know what lies ahead: good and bad days, filled with dinosaurs, tea parties, skinned knees, and tears. We should keep in mind the developmental challenges for the preschool parent to stay present and attuned, while also celebrating the separateness of their courageous preschooler. Erna Furman, in Early Aspects of Mothering: What Makes it so Hard to be There to be Left, writes about the difference in parenting a dependent toddler versus the outward facing preschooler. “The anxiety is separate from and unmitigated by her (the mother’s) pleasure in her child’s growth as well as by her ability to recognize and feel sad that his (her child’s) new achievement implies a loss of earlier closeness in their relationship” (Furman, 1994).

    The transition for the caregiver to more of a secure base is indeed bittersweet, yet it is vital to allow the child to focus on their own curiosity and learning.

    These preschool years are filled with hopes and excitement about future victories, school parties, and the first best friend, as well as new challenges of the child who found his voice, wants to let you know when they disagree, and wants to be comforted when they do something wrong. Fortunately, the rollercoaster of preschool prepares us for the next stages of development and all the challenges of school-aged and teen children. So let us celebrate now the “Whys” and the “Nos!” of the creative, independent preschooler as much as we celebrated those first steps in infancy. I invite you to sit back, and enjoy the preschool ride — and join the race to space with Superman, a sparkly unicorn, and, George, the pet snake. Who knows where it may take you?

    Bibliography

    Brazelton, T. B., Sparrow, J. D. (2001). Touchpoints: 3-6: Cambridge, MA: Perseus.

    Britner, Preston & S Marvin, Robert & C Pianta, Robert (2005). Development and preliminary validation of the caregiving behavior system: Association with child attachment classification in the preschool Strange Situation. Attachment & human development. 7. 83-102.

    Bulgarelli, D., & Bianquin, N. (2017). 3 Conceptual Review of Play.

    Davies, Douglas (2005, July-September). “Introduction to Attachment,” The Infant Crier, #109, Michigan Association of Infant Mental Health, 4-7.

    Davies, Douglas (2010, Summer). “The Therapeutic Preschool: An Intensive Extension of Infant Mental Health to Meet the Needs of Traumatized 3-6 Year Olds,” Infant Crier, #133, Michigan Association of Infant Mental Health, 4-8.

    Furman, E. (1982). Mothers have to be there to be left. The Psychoanalytic Study of the Child, 37, 15-28.

    Furman, E. (1994). Early Aspects of Mothering: What Makes it so hard to be left. Journal of Child Psychotherapy, 20(2):149-164.

    Handbook of Attachment, Third Edition: Theory, Research, and Clinical Applications, edited by Jude Cassidy and Phillip R Shaver, Guilford Publications, 2016.

    Humber, Nancy, and Moss, Ellen. “The Relationship of Preschool and Early School Age Attachment to Mother-Child Interaction.” American Journal of Orthopsychiatry, vol. 75, no. 1 Educational Publishing Foundation, 1/2005, pp.128-41.

    Meins, Elizabeth, Bureau, Jean-Francois, & Fernyhough, Charles. “Mother-Child Attachment From Infancy to the Preschool Years: Predicting Security and Stability.” Child Development, May/June 2018, Volume 89, Number 3, 1022-1038.

    Moss, Ellen, Cyr, Chantal, Bureau, Jean-Francois, Tarabulsy, George M., & Dubois-Comtois, Karine (9/2005). “Stability of Attachment During the Preschool Period.” Developmental Psychology, 41(5), 773-783.

    Moss, Ellen, Bureau, Jean-Francois, Cyr, Chantal, Mongeau, Chantal, & St-Laurent, Diane (2004). “Correlates of Attachment at Age 3: Construct Validity of the Preschool Attachment Classification System.” Developmental Psychology, 40(3), 323–334.

    Piaget, J. (1999). Play, dreams and imitation in childhood.

  • A Beautiful Mess: Early Childhood Consultation – Building Relationships in the Classroom

    A Beautiful Mess: Early Childhood Consultation – Building Relationships in the Classroom

    This article is the work of the Circle of Caring team under the clinical supervision of Vickie Novell, LMSW, IECMH-E® with the support of the consultants: Wendy Dawson, LLP, IMH-E®, Danielle Davey, LMSW, IMH-E® and Jill Vandoornik, LMSW, IMH-E®.

    Welcome to the delicate world of childcare. The days begin and end with separations and reunions, some for the first time in very young lives. How do we support these precious moments of transition? How do we support the caregivers? Emotions and memories are gathered and created, swirling around the room filled with colors and caregiving. Whom do we trust with this space for such young souls? Fortunately we work with caring teachers who step up to share their creativity and energy with these young families. Of course, teachers bring their own emotions and memories but are often asked to  “leave them at the door” as they care for other people’s children. On the best day, there is care and concern, victory and resolve. On other days, there are different feelings — ones sometimes not acknowledged or even known. Where do these feelings go? What kind of memories do they awaken? What kind of memories do they make?

    Given the Herculean task of development in all domains — the body, the heart, the soul, and the mind, the Early Childhood educator is indeed a jack of all trades. As pressure from the dreaded K (kindergarten) rears its ugly head and families bring in enormous burdens of poverty, trauma, and loss, teachers are often torn. Teachers are torn between the urgency to “get children ready for school” and “Did you hear what happened to that child/family?” Day-to-day priorities in the classroom are often at odds, not always based on child needs, sometimes driven by assessments, scores, and monitoring. Parents come and go, sometimes through only brief interactions, strained by their own days ahead and ones past, with their own journey of school and authority ringing in their hearts and minds. Let us not forget the lives of the teachers; those lives they are supposed to leave at the door. They, too, may be carrying emotional burdens — family illness, financial challenges, family stress, as well as their own trauma and loss.

    Positive early childhood teacher-child relationships are highly correlated with future school and peer success, according to a growing body of research. Yet more and more young children are entering our classrooms with insecure and even disorganized attachment styles.

    These children seek connection and support in challenging ways, sometimes struggling to accept emotional support and guidance from the kindest, most well-intentioned teachers.

    So, what are we to do with these rooms filled with energy and possibility, bathed in feelings and memories? There are opportunities for teachers to find high-quality training in child development, trauma and special needs, but teachers are still understandably struggling. Even the best-trained teacher can still experience suffering and vicarious trauma. Developmental trauma or toxic stress occurs when “emotional pain cannot find a relational home in which it can be held” (Epstein, 2014). Early Childhood Educators are a relational home for the children in their care, but the load can be heavy.  Where is the teacher’s relational home?

    The Circle of Caring Early Childhood Mental Health Consultation program at The Guidance Center is helping construct such a home. Through a generous grant from the Head Start Innovation Fund, four Infant and Early Childhood therapists have been working in 10 Head Start classrooms over the past 2½ years. Through monthly group reflective consultation for teachers and weekly classroom-focused reflective consultation, these teaching teams have developed a strong working relationship with their consultants. Based on the original statewide Circle of Caring Child Care Expulsion Prevention Program led by Kathleen Baltman, MA, IMH-E, our consultants  have been learning and growing alongside the staff and teachers. Through our transformation from IECMH therapist to ECMH consultants we have experienced first-hand how beautifully IMH principles and practices address the much-needed emotional support for these classrooms.

    Early Childhood Mental Health (ECMH) consultants have a great opportunity to create a holding environment with the teachers so that they, as Jeree Pawl would hope, provide the same for the children and families. Thanks to researchers such as Walter Gilliam, Kadija Johnston, and Charles Brinamen, this growing field is revealing the critical and interdependent needs of these very young children, their families, and the teachers who care for them every day. As part of this professional community, Infant and Early Childhood therapists are well suited to offer this gift of presence for these systems and communities based on our training, experience, and deep commitment to reflective supervision and practice.  While our background provides a strong foundation for consultation work, the transition from clinical work to consultation requires training, support, and reflection.

    “What about the baby?  Which baby?”

    So how do we begin? Our port of entry and intervention is the relationship, but which one?

    As one consultant remarked, “Being in the classroom is like being at a home visit — at the highest volume.

    So many needs and feelings coming from so many different directions — teachers and children alike. At first glance — and feel — it can be overwhelming and seem like an impossible task. Me contain this? Where do I look? Where do I stand? Or sit? Who do I look at? Who on earth do I interact with? All consultants have experienced that moment of fight or flight, which professionally can look like flight/freeze — stand in the corner and just observe silently without looking at anyone. Or it can result in fight/control — take over group, intervene in behavior management, provide conflict resolution, and model. There is a flush of panic and responsibility, sometimes because of an acute attunement to the children and teachers’ internal experiences.

    ECMH consultation work, like clinical IECMH work, begins with us, the clinician. Grounded in the belief that the port of entry and intervention is OUR relationship with the teacher, we have the responsibility of maintaining and repairing our centeredness so that our offering of ourselves can provide a place of calm and reflection. Disruptions are expected, as in all relationship work, and “good enough” consultation is the aim. Our response to the disruption — sensitive, thoughtful, and humble — is the very point of healing. Through the ongoing support of our reflective supervisor, we can work to return to that center. Our Circle of Caring program offers weekly group supervision to all consultants. Through this supportive environment, we learn to refine our internal instruments — our open, receptive, curious selves — so we can become more attuned to the implicit, affective communication of the teachers and children.

    And so it begins…

    At the start of the program more than two years ago, we were acutely aware of the need for a sensitive, deliberate approach. As in any relationship work, beginnings are an opportunity for a different felt experience of being seen, heard, and known. Leaning on the wisdom of mentors, we worked to keep in mind the “consultative stance” (Johnston & Brinamen, 2006) how the attunement to one’s way of being with the staff, teachers, and even the system, can communicate the calm, centered, curious state that will be the hallmark of the practice. From the details of meetings and schedules to the desire to approach as equals, we hoped that we were beginning the process of explicitly and implicitly demonstrating our goals and hopes.

    Through early interactions and observations, consultants expressed curiosity about the teachers’ experiences of help in the professional setting. From the orientation to the project to the first classroom sessions and groups, consultants remained open to learning about the teachers’ needs and hopes for support, communication, and comfort with vulnerability and change.  Throughout our work we became more and more attuned to adult internal working models (IWM) that inform  the internalized expectation of their worth as a teacher/human, their efficacy, and their beliefs about others being helpful (or not), caring (or not), and accepting (or not). The teachers’ own personal IWM has been internalized and adapted based on their earlier caregiving experiences. We became more aware of the concept of professional IWMs. Often rooted in one’s personal IWM, professional IWMs are the ghosts of past helpers, site leaders, monitors, specialists, parents, and children. Sometimes coined bureaucratic transference, these are the conscious or unconscious expectations and predictions of how the professional will be assessed, be seen, be deemed worthy of help, and how efficacious they will be with the children and families. In addition, the professional IWM contains the experience and expectation of the availability and dependability of professional and emotional support from the work culture: Is it safe to ask for help, and how will that help feel? The following example occurred frequently at the beginning of the project, and again at crisis points in the work:

    Teacher “Mary” had recently entered the program from another agency. During one of the first weekly classroom consultations, the consultant observed a busy, highly emotional classroom. Mary was working with a pair of children who were having difficulty with transition and ownership of materials; she stayed patient and present throughout the conflict. The situation resolved well and the children moved on to another activity.  During a lull in the commotion, the consultant took the opportunity to approach Mary and remark on how she noticed the positive effort that Mary had made, noticing that she was able to contain their feelings and help the children through a difficult time. Mary became teary-eyed and thanked the consultant. The consultant expressed surprise at Mary’s reaction, which seemed tinged with sadness. Mary went on to disclose that she had recently left a different system that  was highly critical of her, leaving her feeling judged and ‘less-than’ as a teacher. She was worried to have a consultant in the classroom and relieved to hear positive remarks. The consultant thanked her for being so open and they went on to discuss the goals of the supportive classroom work.

    As we entered these relationships we became acutely aware of the need for transparency, predictability, and reliability for these teachers. Not unlike a family in crisis, teachers feel under the microscope and, unfortunately, bear the increasing weight of academic demand, monitoring stress, and systemic expectations. Explicit discussion of what the consultant would and would not do was an important part of the ongoing demonstration of our unique perspective. For example, we communicated at the beginning that there would be no writing down of thoughts or ideas, no strategies or lesson plans, no monitoring or reporting to the administration. Repeatedly we spoke to the concerns, spoken or not, of the worries about judgment and reprisals. We heard the requests for advice and strategies as an indirect expression of a variety of possible feelings. “Am I enough? I feel inadequate. Will you judge me? Are you better than me?” We worked to respond to the underlying feelings of fear, worry, insecurity, and apprehension through our calm, mirroring presence and reflections. Through our words and actions, we strived to communicate that the teachers are the experts and they are enough for these children and families.

    “The eye of a hurricane”

    Early Childhood classrooms, and especially Head Start classrooms, are a sea of emotions and experiences. Competing developmental and emotional agendas call out for skilled teachers who use their ability to stay present and calm to accompany the children through challenges and failures. This emotional work is the heart of learning, the creation of a safe haven and secure base from which to explore. An early childhood teacher must multi-task this emotional work with little to no time to pause, reflect or plan.  Add to that the unknown stress and trauma of all classroom participants, and you may wonder how teachers are able to stay present and connected at all. Though we all fall out of the calm center, it is no wonder that teachers feel barraged by needs, both concrete and emotional, and may go into autopilot or fight or flight. No wonder they may lose perspective; hence the need for support to regain their footing.

    A central tenant of our program is the firm belief that teachers have their own powerful intuition and ability to create supportive, nurturing responses to children and experiences.

    The barrier to these responses is, understandably, the dysregulation that occurs when faced with such high needs and limited reprieve and support. Our role with the teachers is to create a safe space where they can become more regulated, whether in the classroom or group setting. Knowing that the purpose of attachment is to promote safety and exploration, we look for opportunities to assess the state of being of the teachers and allow our relationship to become their secure base and safe haven. Inherent in this structure is the belief in developmental drive, “motivational structures (that) can also be regarded as fundamental modes of development. As such they are life-span processes that can be mobilized through empathy in the course of therapeutic action with adults”. (Emde, 1990)

    We stand firmly in the belief that our role is to promote regulation, which will intuitively lead to curiosity. Co-regulation allows for the preoccupation with safety to shift to the “other,” us as consultants, the environment, and the children, not from a fear response, but from a neutral or curious state. Creating a safe relationship with the teachers and with each other in the group setting takes time and a gentle approach. At the beginning, “do for” is a state of a sensitive approach to joining the teachers in relationship, all the while remaining keenly aware of the cues and miscues of comfort and acceptance of intimacy. Keeping the components of attachment-seeking behavior in mind, consultants learned each teacher’s comfort by noting the affective content of greetings and goodbyes; content and tone of shared work or personal stories; physical cues such as proximity maintenance and comfort, and gaze; and narrative cues, such as fluency of speech, tone, breadth and content of verbal communications. Through this ongoing assessment, consultants begin the process of learning how each teacher communicates emotions, needs, distress, and comfort with support.

    Lyons-Ruth et al. explored the concept of “relational knowing” or “how to do things with others” as the port of entry to change.  Lyons’ group offers the belief that this internal knowing is “as much affective and interactive as … cognitive… (and) begins to be represented in some yet to be known form long before the availability of language and continues to operate implicitly throughout life” (Lyons et al., 1998). This speaks to the belief that our relationship is the agent of change. What exactly, especially in the early education realm, is the underlying mechanism for change? Through creating a “moment of meeting,” two equals bring their perspectives, belief systems, and expectations together to co-create a new way of being. With “self as therapist,” the consultant will move into the emotional space with a teacher with curiosity and empathy for the teacher’s emotional experience. Often seen physically as a moving toward and away, the consultants pace and dose the “being with” according to the assessed comfort of the teachers. Throughout, the consultant develops an awareness of how, and in what circumstances, the teachers become dysregulated; what cues they feel safe showing, and how and if they use the consultant for support from the beginning.

    Through the attachment relationship with the consultant, the teacher is given permission to speak the unspeakable without consequences. Robert Emde speaks of developmental empathy as a “…temporary sense of oneness with the other, followed by a sense of separateness to be helpful” (Emde, 1989). Through the process of marking and containing affect, teachers are shown that all feelings are accepted and safe to be expressed. Interacting at the level of IWM, these interactions are “new … nonverbal encounters (that) suspend the procedural relational knowledge … ( which) overrides earlier relational experiences. It thereby overwrites earlier memories” (Gossmann, 2009).

    The nature of early childhood development and early parenting offers us a roadmap for the supportive work with teachers and staff.   As trust and feelings of safety increase, the teacher-consultant will begin to make use of social referencing as a regulation strategy. Robert Emde writes of social referencing as “a process whereby an individual, when confronted with a situation of uncertainty, seeks out emotional information from a significant other in order to resolve the uncertainty and regulate behavior accordingly” (Emde, 1989). During classroom consultation and times of distress, the benevolent presence and non-verbal encouraging stance of the consultant can have the same grounding effect on a teacher. Joint attention regarding a potential conflict or during an evocative experience creates a felt sense of being held in mind, while the consultant attends through a quiet presence, as Winnicott wrote, “being alone in the presence of another” (Winnicott, 1958). This encouraging, quiet attending is similar to a loving mother staying attuned to the almost-rolling infant’s expression of distress. That mother expresses a quiet reassurance and confidence in the child’s ability and need to struggle through the discomfort, while keeping attuned to the level of frustration so that it does not become flooded or lead to decompensation. If the arousal level becomes threatened, the mother knows the signs of dysregulation and moves in to repair and comfort. One classroom scenario speaks to our work from this vantage point:

    Teacher “Kay” and her consultant had spent considerable time over the years talking about the challenge of being with children while they were distressed without becoming punitive, directive, or moving away. During one observation, a child became inconsolable, and Kay approached him. Knowing this was a touchstone moment for their relationship, the consultant moved physically closer to her in the room while attending silently. The teacher looked to the child, then the consultant, clearly showing signs of distress. The consultant remained quiet but demonstrated understanding and empathy through her body position and facial expression. In the silence, the teacher turned to the consultant and said, “I just don’t know what to do.” The consultant quietly vocalized empathy and understanding while staying physically present, but not moving to problem solving or even reflection. The teacher then turned back to the child and empathized with his feelings. The child calmed and was able, after a time, to return to classroom activities.

    This is a simple example of parallel process at work. Doug Davies, LMSW, PhD., wrote about this through his exploration of the role of the supportive other “to contain big feelings, remain attuned in the midst of distress, set limits on dysregulated or aggressive behavior, and put moment-to-moment experiences into words (which) disconfirms the trauma-based model that she(he) is alone and vulnerable and that relationships don’t help” (Davies, 2010).

    “You had the power all along my dear. You just had to learn it for yourself.”

     – Glinda the good witch

    Our program, and many other IECMH consultation programs, draw from the rich IMH traditions of building reflective capacity as a way to enhance compassion, insight, and empathetic response. Two-hour weekly classroom-focused consultation and monthly two-hour group reflective supervisions complement each other to access not only the explicit narrative reflection work, but also the often more difficult implicit IWM and affective experience support.

    Our monthly reflective consultation groups are a unique opportunity for teachers to pause, in a supportive atmosphere, and look more deeply on classroom experiences.  During these sessions, the teachers are encouraged to explore more deeply the children’s and parents’ experiences, as well as their own experiences, reactions and feelings. Over time, these moments support the expansion of their ability to be curious about the multiple meanings of children’s behaviors, the feelings behind that behavior, and ways the teacher can meet the underlying needs for emotional support and connection. Through the creation of an open, supportive group, teachers are given the opportunity to reflect on how their own inner perceptions and belief systems color their understandings of behavior and, in turn, their responses to challenging interactions. Through the gentle support of the consultant, as well as affirming peer presence, teachers have become increasingly more insightful to the families’ possible histories of trauma, school difficulties, communication challenges, and issues with shame, fear, and confusion.  The ability to practice creation of the narrative, and time and space for reflection, allows for a more regulated and deliberate approach to future children and interactions. Through case presentations and group discussion, individual insights become generalized to other children and classrooms. Though the pull for problem solving can be strong, consultants use their leadership to keep the reflective space for the whole group. There have been so many examples of how the change in perspective has directly affected the relationships and children in the classrooms. Here are two brief examples from the groups:

    Teacher “Julie” discussed a family whose child had great difficulty following any routines or group activities. Julie shared that she felt pressured by the mother to force the child to participate, even though by Julie’s assessment this was too challenging for him. Through empathy and curiosity about mother’s felt experience, Julie began exploring the mother’s fears about her child’s possible disability and future struggles. Speaking to the consultant the following week, Julie reported that she went from feeling anger and frustration with the mother to sadness and compassion. Julie shared that the next time she saw the mother she noticed that the mom was hovering in the background. From a place of compassion, Julie was able to see the sadness behind the annoyance. She then went over to the mother, stood by her side, placed her hand on her back while they looked together at her child, quietly. Over the next weeks, the mother began sharing her fears about her child’s future, and over time was more flexible and worked as a team with the teachers.

    Teacher “Alice” found one of the children in her classroom emotionally draining due to his ongoing behavioral challenges, high activity level, and great need for interaction and guidance. Through the support of the consultant and encouragement of her peers, she was able to admit that she was frustrated. The consultant and peers expressed empathy and compassion, communicating to Alice that her feelings were justified and tolerable in the group. There was a brief conversation and the group moved on to another topic. At the start of the next classroom observation, the teacher approached the consultant with positive energy. Alice had taken the weekend to consider the child’s perspective, wondering about his feelings and returned with a special backpack, embroidered with his initial, which just happened to be the same as her son’s. She encouraged him to wear it around the classroom whenever he wanted and to collect and keep whatever he wanted in it for the day. The consultant noticed he was more focused, better regulated, and able to follow routines, and though he still struggled in many ways, he was calmer. This was a wonderful example of empathy and parallel process.

    The process of change in classroom-based consultation goes through many stages, from building the relationship, to “being with” as a co-regulation strategy, to the co-creation of new narratives and perspectives.

    This process is not linear or static and is greatly affected by the stressors and regulation of all the players involved. The co-creation of perspectives and narratives takes place in the shared curious space — the “zone of proximal development,” as coined by Vygotsky — and is scaffolded by a trusted advisor to move to higher developmental levels. In the consultative relationship, this may include offering the consultant’s perspective as slightly different, in the effort to “see the same child.” Different from didactic instruction, this perspective sharing is the meeting of equals with different perspectives to create curiosity and creativity in assessment, and ultimately different responses. In this creative, safe space, dyads explore concepts such as cues and miscues, the effect of trauma on attachment and development, and how perceptions and IWM may affect an objective view. Far from the role of expert, the consultant is a side-by-side companion in the experience of turning toward a challenging situation. Through these experiences, a well-regulated teacher can make leaps of perspective and intervention based on new information regarding development, trauma and perspective. Here is a simple example.

    Teacher “Cindy” began watching a child with the consultant in the classroom. This child was very busy, but Cindy had positive regard for him and expressed confusion and curiosity about his ability to engage in classroom routines and activities. The consultant took this opportunity to share her observation about the child’s limited play skills. She shared her observation that he confidently seemed to play on his own, but could only maintain cooperative play when Cindy and the other teacher supported him. The next week Cindy reported that she had spent the last week more specifically observing the child and providing teacher-led experiences with him and other children, with the long-term goal of building his independent skills to play with others. Cindy also reported that she had begun noticing that other children in the room had varying skills in cooperative play and she was intentionally scaffolding them as well.

    The dance of the relationship

    Our work through Circle of Caring has been an amazing, emotional, and growing experience. We have borne witness to teachers growing in confidence and peacefulness.

    Over these few years, teachers have begun instinctively developing curiosity and compassion for even their most challenging children and families.

    Through an empathetic lens, these amazing teachers are beginning to become freed up to create ways to develop new connections and build safety within their classrooms overall.  We have seen first-hand that the strategies and interventions that curious and compassionate teachers create are unique, individualized, and child focused. This confirms our worldview that the creation of a safe space for feeling and being seen and held leads to amazing discoveries. These innovative ways of teaching cannot be taught; these attuned ways of responding to the children come from their own hearts. Hearts that are given a safe space through reflective consultation to speak the unspeakable, process the intensity of the classroom environment, and allow themselves to be open and fully human.

    A final story tells the beauty and hope for this work:

    Upon entering into one of my new classrooms in my role as a reflective consultant, I remember taking the time to pause. As I listened to the harmonious sound of the children at play, I noticed a bright yellow beanbag chair on the floor. It was a particular shade of yellow that demanded attention. As the weeks went by, the teachers and the children began to show me the meaning of the yellow beanbag chair. This teaching pair showed me many of their individual strengths right away. They were able to respond, attend and support the children when both teachers felt confident in “knowing the problem” and could quickly provide a resolution that worked. When a child became dysregulated to the point of screaming, crying and throwing themselves onto the floor, the teachers would move toward the child, using all of the tools in their toolbox to try and calm them. When this did not work, they would give into the intolerance of the child’s big feelings and gently carry them over to the yellow beanbag chair. The screaming child would then be instructed to sit there until they could calm themselves down. This was a pattern that I began to see emerge as the months went by. Together the teachers and I remained curious about the times that they felt confident and the times that they “just didn’t know what to do; nothing is working.”

    Several months into our work together, one of the teachers discussed a difficult child during the monthly supervision group. As the consultant, I remained attuned, connected and empathic as the teacher spoke about her experience with this child. Some of the group members wondered if this child was “an only child and spoiled.” The consultant explored this concept of the spoiled child more with the group. The group worked to define this idea of a spoiled child. “A spoiled child always gets what they want and can do anything without consequence.” One of the teachers then began to share her own childhood experience of being like that child. The consultant noticed a slight shift in the tone of this teacher’s voice as she spoke. When asked how that felt as a child, the teacher shared, “I was alone a lot. I was left to take care of myself.”  The group became quiet for a brief few moments. The teacher who was presenting broke the silence by being curious about the use of the yellow beanbag chair with this difficult child.  With support from the consultant, the group began to wonder about this experience from the child’s perspective. The teacher wondered out loud, as if speaking for the child, “I’m screaming and crying and need help and now I’m alone.” The conversation was not without debate and quickly shifted to the other’s perspectives. However, as the consultant, I noticed that something shifted for that teacher in that moment. The beauty of this program is that I knew I would see this teacher the following week in the classroom and could revisit this one on one.

    The following week the teacher tried to put into the words her experience in the group. The safe exploration and curiosity around the use of the beanbag chair and the teacher’s felt experience in the group created a space for both the teachers and the consultant to begin to name when this was happening in the classroom. This allowed the teachers and the consultant to create a language around not only the use of the beanbag chair but the teacher’s internal experience that drove her to directing a child to the chair.

    Several months later, two children were having difficulty sharing a toy in the classroom. One of the children became very distressed by this and began to cry, letting out a high-pitched shrieking sound that built in intensity. One of the teachers moved close to her. As the consultant, I moved in closer to the teacher as well. She tried talking to her as she swiftly moved in to pick the child up and place her on her lap. This only made the child more upset and her cry more intense. The teacher stood up with the child in her arms and brought her over to the yellow chair. However, today she did not walk away but instead sat close beside the child as she cried. I watched as the teacher’s eyes boomeranged around the room until landing on me. Our eyes met and without any words,  she conveyed to me her awareness of the change. I stood up and walked over to the teacher and the crying child. I sat next to the teacher and we both took a deep breath. The teacher expressed feeling helpless and unsure. She felt perplexed that trying to hold the child appeared to make things worse. Together we sat through each other’s discomfort and, over time, the child calmed. From that day on the yellow chair was no longer used. When children became upset, the teachers would join them where they were, physically and emotionally.

     This is why we do this work; why we wade through the emotions and memories with the teachers on behalf of the children and families. Together we work to create possibilities for the teachers, the young families, and ourselves. This journey and dance of healing is paved by presence, empathy, and curiosity with the dream to create a greater world full of loving, relational homes. We, the consultants of the Circle of Caring, are grateful for being able to share in this experience and look forward to the discoveries ahead.

    Bibliography

    Davies, D. (2010) Child Development: A Practitioner’s Guide. 3rd Ed. New York: Guilford Press.

    Emde, Robert. (2009) Facilitating Reflective Supervision in an Early Child Development Center. Infant Mental Health Journal, Vol. 30(6), 664–672 (2009).

    Emde, Robert N. (12/1990). Mobilizing Fundamental Modes of Development: Empathic Availability and Therapeutic Action. Journal of the American Psychoanalytic Association38(4), 881–913. Research Support, Non-U.S. Gov’t, Los Angeles, CA: SAGE Publications.

    Epstein, MD, Mark. (2103) The Trauma of Everyday Life. Penquin Press.

    Gossmann, Martin. (2009) Affect-Communication: The “Something More Than Interpretation.” International Journal of Psychoanalytic Self Psychology. 3:3, 330-353.

    Johnston, K., & Brinamen, C. (2006). Mental Health Consultation in Child Care: Transforming Relationships among Directors, Staff, and Families. ZERO TO THREE.

    Johnston, K., and Brinamen, C. (2012) The Consultation Relationship – From transactional to Transformative: Hypothesizing About the Nature of Change. Infant Mental Health Journal. 33(3), 226-233.

    Lyons‐Ruth, K., Bruschweiler‐Stern, N. , Harrison, A. M., Morgan, A. C., Nahum, J. P., Sander, L. , Stern, D. N. and Tronick, E. Z. (1998), Implicit relational knowing: Its role in development and psychoanalytic treatment. Infant Mental Health Journal, 19: 282-289.

    Winnicott, D.W. (1958) Collected Papers: Through Paediatrics to psychoanalysis. London. Tavistock.

    Other Helpful Texts

    Davies, D. (2012, Summer) “The Therapeutic Preschool: An Intensive Extension of Infant Mental Health to Meet the Needs of Traumatized 3-6 Year Olds.” The Infant Crier, #133, Michigan Association of Infant Mental Health, 4-8.

     Heller, S., Boothe, A., Keyes, A., and Nagle, G. (2011) Implementation of a Mental Health Consultation Model and Its Impact on Early Childhood Teacher’s Efficacy and Competence. Infant Mental Health Journal. Vol. 32(2), 143–164.

  • Toddlerhood: A Transformative Time of Developmental Leaps, Relationship Redefintions and Life-Setting Experiences

    Toddlerhood: A Transformative Time of Developmental Leaps, Relationship Redefintions and Life-Setting Experiences

    INTRODUCTION

    From the first days of life, long before birth, the course of development runs on multiple tracks — distinct yet totally inseparable. The challenge is to recognize their unique components while simultaneously fitting them into relationship with each other. This journey is complicated enough during the first year, with rapid brain development, periods of regulation, disorganization, and reorganization, but then comes toddlerhood!

    Suddenly, or so it seems to caregivers who have been learning and practicing nurturing ways, a whole new order of caregiving must be learned in order to respond to a whole new set of complexities. The toddler’s second and third years are increasingly centered around the internally driven and all-encompassing task of developing a sense of self. At once sharply focused and broadly activated, this task that brightens and widens the toddler’s world view with new awareness and possibilities is a daunting process, especially when being guided by amateurs, i.e., the toddler, the parents, the family, important caregivers, and all supporters, some of whom may know about toddlers but none of them knowing this toddler. Critically, while a toddler’s often confusing actions and responses to “guidance” may shout SEPARATENESS, every second- and third-year child needs every bit as much consistently nurturing love and support as the newly born and first-year child.

    Indeed, there is an abundance of scientific and anecdotal evidence to support developmentalists’ proclamation that no developmental progress just happens. Yes, the newborn’s central nervous system is on a neuro-biological mission, but its exact course is charted according to an increasingly complex interweaving of natural occurrences and nurturing experiences. Throughout the journey, particularly at its almost dizzying speed at outset, that course is vulnerable to even the subtlest of challenges, each one capable of producing profound shifts in direction.

    Each toddler’s profound request to be securely held while being actively encouraged to explore gives ample reason to consider, with as much care and depth as we can gather: What do toddlers need? What does this toddler need? When? Why? What might get in the way? What might “satisfaction” look like? And so, let’s ask the toddlers. Let us closely attend to the many ways they communicate their needs and reflect on the impact of caregiving responses on their developing understanding of what it’s like to become and to be a “me.”

    THE TODDLER IN CONTEXT IS THE TODDLER IN RELATIONSHIP

    Let’s begin with every toddler’s deepest need, the need to be understood (Gold, 2011).

    While this is a basic need across all stages of life, it is particularly salient for toddlers as the developmental tasks of toddlerhood (here loosely defined as the 12- to 36-month-old) can be so difficult to understand — by the toddlers as well as their caregivers. Then, too, each toddler’s behaviors and interactions are imbued with a tightly woven mixture of genetics and experience and are carried out quite uniquely according to health and well-being status, temperament, developmental timetable, and lessons learned since before birth.

    This seems a good time to call upon the work of Erna Furman, one of toddlers’ champion-grade interpreters of their support needs. Mrs. Furman was a classically trained psychologist whose early work was with Anna Freud’s nursery school for very young children in WWII England. Her writings about toddlers were firmly anchored in the perspective of the toddler, with clear and caring intentions to help caregiving adults understand and support the toddler’s struggle for mastery of bodily and emotional self-care (Furman, 1982a, 1987, 1992). She clearly understood that while not much stops a toddler from moving toward and becoming part of a wider world, their caregivers could easily become confused, hesitant, reactive and avoidant, even while wishing all the while to say, do, and be the right thing at the right time to protect as well as guide these very determined explorers.

    Toddlers do so much to show us the kinds of help they need in their continuing quest, and how those needs change as they practice and build skills toward owning their bodies and using their feelings. They are eager to discover new areas of “needing less” and then “not needing,” all the while being blissfully unaware that it is their dependence on sensitive, consistent, predictable, nurturing support and guidance from their most trusted caregivers that carries them into successful mastery. Furman’s organization of this developmental journey into four successive stages of maternal-child interactions provides an interpretive roadmap for parents and caregiving adults through this, at times, mind-boggling illustration of the powerful driving force that embodies all development.

    Please note that, in reviewing this developmental roadmap, I have intentionally retained Mrs. Furman’s focus on the role of mother and her primary importance to the developing toddler (Furman, 2001). While much has subsequently been written and considered to challenge and expand our understanding of primary caregiving roles, especially that of fathers, but also including grandparents, foster parents, and early care providers, it can be helpful to sometimes be reminded of the reality that every infant’s very  first relationship experience, in every culture, in every part of the world, is with a mother who carried and gave birth. Every additional relationship, including substitute care placement, is then added to that first “knowing” rather than replacing it. I believe that toddlers really need us to keep this in mind as we seek to understand and support their rapidly widening world of essential and important relationships. 

    Stage One: “Doing For”

    Infants are born with neurobiological needs for connection and survival. As their needs are expressed, it is mom’s job to consider those expressions as signals and, as she responds to those signals, to observe and learn her baby’s preferences for how the needs are best met by this very unique little being. The newborn has only an awareness of a feeling that is a “something” and, as the feeling grows and becomes more uncomfortable, reacts in the only way open at this time — a cry, followed by another cry, followed by continued cries until the discomfort stops. When the feelings of discomfort are discovered, addressed and replaced by brain-activated feelings of “no discomfort” that are experienced in a context of increasingly familiar holding arms, cooing voice, rhythmic rocking, and perhaps even calming music, and when those sensations are repeated and repeated, the baby’s distress signals recede and mom feels like she’s found the Holy Grail! Through repetition of what begins as trial and error, mom begins to recognize that her baby needs her in increasingly distinct ways. She is able to recognize and resolve more and more of her baby’s discomfort cues. She is also able to recognize and feel the satisfaction of seeing her baby’s comfort cues when she has alleviated her little one’s alarms of distress. By the end of the first year, under “good-enough” circumstances, the baby has developed expectations and the mother has developed confidence in her role as nurturer of this baby. When Timmy’s mother arrives at the day care and calls Timmy’s name, the look on his face and the sight of him beginning to reach out to her fills her with feelings of oneness with him. When she picks him up and he buries his head into her neck, they both experience a sense of the whole world coming round right. Together, they have been learning and practicing a sense of shared predictability that makes it possible to sort, organize, predict, and enjoy their relationship. (For an extensive review and discussion of early attachment development, see Ribaudo, J. (1)

    Stage Two: “Doing With”

    Throughout the initial period of care-needing and care-giving interactions between mothers and infants, there are both subtle and strong indicators that things are going to change. As soon as the infants can become mobile enough to respond to an increasingly strong central nervous system command to MOVE, they do! For infants whose development is proceeding according to typical-for-age expectations, their second-year label of “toddler” says a lot. It says, “I want to direct my mind and body to try, to practice, to do whatever catches my interest until I get really good at it! Then I will try, to practice, to do something different! I want to try, practice, and do everything!”

    Let’s consider how the toddler’s expressions of this drive change the mother-child relationship. First, she may become confused. The infant at the brink of toddlerhood often signals total independence — rejecting mom’s attempts to feed him pureed fruit while working hard to pick up slippery chunks of banana, but then clearing his tray of all food and opening his mouth wide for another spoonful of pureed fruit. It takes a good deal of practice time for the toddler’s attempts to become skills. The understanding, support, and patient assistance that nurturing caregivers give to young toddlers is such an important gift to their development — not just in promoting this bundle of energy’s motoric successes, but in allowing, assisting, and celebrating such determination. It is mom’s readiness to join with her toddler’s efforts at self-care by noticing and, as needed, assisting her toddler from initially clumsy effort to eventual satisfaction of success that introduces and encourages a new level of base security — that of the toddler’s gradually developing a positive sense of being a “self.”

    Stage Three: “Standing Back to Admire”

    Through considerable practice, and with more and more self-care achievements made possible by a very rapid development of the central nervous system, toddlers grow increasingly focused on exercising preferences, including moving quite quickly from one place to another without assistance, gaining skills in self-feeding and, above all, making and acting on decisions about which room or area, and what clothing, food, toys, books, activities, etc. are desired at any one moment. The toddler has many opportunities for learning what’s possible, what’s not possible, and what just maybe might be possible under certain circumstances. It can be very difficult at times for even the most consistently nurturing caregivers to remember the importance of allowing toddlers clear successes in their explorations in “self-doing,” particularly in light of other adult obligations such as searching for keys and getting to work on time while helping a distraught third grader recover from having spilled juice all over her eggs, the table, and her very favorite outfit.

    Parents, too, need encouragement to keep believing and trusting that their expressions of acceptance and approval now will result in greater relationship satisfaction later, since even the most super-self-determining toddlers still depend on the parent’s continued loving support. The emotional see-saw of the toddler’s experience in this many-faceted drive toward mastery means that, even when most fervently insisting on self-caring, he is also needing mom to “step back and admire, but not any farther back than I can tolerate as I walk this new and sometimes very scary path!” Thus, undergirding all the surprises that mothers experience during this phase, her greatest challenge is to learn new ways to hold her toddler while letting go.

    Stage Four: “Doing for Oneself”

    This stage, even more than the third stage, continues well into the preschool years. But it is important to note that it is the successful navigation of becoming a self that supports the toddler’s ability to internalize the security of being held by a loving parent, even when the parent is not physically present. The child’s ability to feel held while being separate lays the foundation for the preschooler to approach the tasks of the preschool period with an already experienced measure of self-confidence.

    THE LIFE-CHANGING REWARDS — FOR TODDLER AND PARENT — OF A TODDLER’S NEEDS MET

    Before turning to close consideration of just what it is that toddlers need — and from whom — to successfully support their developing drive toward self-hood from within the security of connectedness, let’s take a minute to highlight the impact of  “goal satisfaction” on the toddler, the parent, and their relationship.

    For the toddlers who signaled their need to try mastering multiple aspects of self-care until something from deep inside told them that they, at least for now, could stop doing heavy battle at every new practice opportunity, they gain:

    • The continuance of nurturing relationships with their most special caregivers.
    • The deeply satisfying feeling of being safely secure in felt closeness with their most special caregivers.
    • The assurance of constancy in being supported in all the self-mastery challenges yet to come.
    • The joy of successful experiences in communicating and connecting with others.

    For the parents whose significant history of successes in providing for their wholly dependent infant strengthened their abilities to access their best selves to meet their toddlers’ insistent needs for permission, support, and approval, they are hereby awarded:

    • The distinct and cumulative pleasures of strengthening and deepening a thoughtfully built child-parent attachment relationship.
    • The joy of having newly complex ways to relate to and learn from their uniquely growing child.
    • The hard-earned satisfaction in becoming a successful negotiator.

    So, when we recognize parents’ generally enough meeting their toddlers’ needs, to what are we actually referring?

    Let’s zero in on the infant’s primary, most central need: ongoing nurturing relationships. And let’s ask the developing attachment relationship of the dyad to set the stage for a close-up consideration of how toddlers use that primary relationship to guide their journey through the increasingly complex tasks of toddlerhood.

    Right from the start, as babies experience caregiving, they generally become increasingly close to their mother or mothering (primary caregiving) person. As days and weeks turn into months, their developing dependency on this person for felt security can easily be seen (and heard) in how they search for and latch onto this person, and how they are more quickly comforted by this person over any others at times of distress. Repetitions of such call and response interactions with a central caregiving adult teach the infant lifelong foundational understandings of interpersonal trust.

    As mobility and brain power increase, the infant who has experienced the ready availability of the attachment figure is able to use the felt closeness as new steps are taken toward a new developmental task, that of selfhood. Calling again on Erna Furman, when the “doing for” lessons are comfortably internalized and the efforts to take some initiative in the doing are welcomed, these new tasks can be “felt” as right to try, especially when the successes are so reinforced with parental smiles and displays of joining-with joy!

    Thus, the infant gradually crosses over from basking in being given to by mom, to partnering with mom-the-giver, to the toddler who is beginning to experience and wants to re-experience and so “practices” what it is mom-the-giver has been giving. We might even enjoy imagining the toddler being able to realize: “Wow! When I do things for myself that she’s always done for me, I get a really good feeling. All the ways that I’m taking care of myself are the ‘givings’ she taught me!”

    Realistically, it’s reassuring to know that

    when toddlers beam with self-pride at doing-for-self, they are on the way to internalizing life-strengthening lessons about the importance of relationship.


    A CLOSER LOOK AT THE DEVELOPMENTAL GROWTH-WORK OF TODDLERS AND THEIR NURTURING CAREGIVERS

    Let us turn now to the developmental journey of toddlerhood through the experiences of one child and her parents.  At each developmental stage of this journey,

    we’ll first observe Silvie in social interaction, and then consider what Silvie might tell us, if she could, how those interactions will provide life lessons for her next developmental steps.

    By reflecting on the role that ongoing nurturing relationships play in the realization of selfhood, let’s examine how we might respond when specialized support is needed to guide a caregiving adult through the critical toddler-developmental period. 

    Silvie and her family

     Silvie is a healthy, sturdy, easily engaged Latina child, whose first year was relatively free of emotional upheavals, physical challenges, and health concerns. She lives with her mother and father in a safe and comfortable environment. Both of Silvie’s parents teach full-time at a Spanish immersion K-8 school near their home. Since Silvie’s mother returned to work when Silvie was four months old, Silvie’s weekday care has been provided by her mother’s longtime friend, who is a licensed home care provider. She is “Tia” (auntie) to Silvie, who soon comes to call her MyTia. Both of Silvie’s parents are thankful for the support and advice they frequently seek and receive from their wise and encouraging friend, especially because both sets of grandparents and most of their extended family live in Mexico.

    Initial considerations

    First, let’s acknowledge that while stressors are part of everyday life, these vignettes suggest a caregiving context of manageable rather than toxic stress. In defining stress manageable, reducible, or even resolved through meaningful support, we can thus consider stress as opportunity for strengthening. I wish here to look to what early caregiving relationship health looks like, the better to 1) alert us to caregiving relationship risk and danger signs, and 2) guide us toward offering child-centered, relationship-focused interventions and support, whether informal, clinical, educational, or policy-determined.

    Let us also pay due respect to the wisdom of the legendary baseball great Yogi Berra, whose oft repeated yogi-isms included a reminder that we “can observe a lot by watching.”

    SILVIE AT 13 MONTHS: TRANSITIONING FROM BEING DONE FOR TO DOING WITH

    Silvie is toddling around the kitchen, stopping periodically and plopping down to a sit to pick up and briefly explore some of the toys that are usually in the corner of the room, but are now scattered across the floor. Mama is rinsing dishes and putting them in the dishwasher. Suddenly, she drops a (polyurethane) cup and the water in it splashes onto the floor. Silvie quickly crawls to the cup and is just about to pat the pooling water with her hand when Mama swoops down with a towel, mops up the water and picks up the cup, saying, “No, no, Silvie. Mama do it. There. All gone.” Silvie watches and then reaches toward the cup with both hands, grunting her “request” with increasing insistence. Mama says, “You want water?” Silvie’s face brightens. “OK, but I’ll get your cup.” She finds a sippy cup, fills it and hands it to Silvie. “OK, Silvie. You take your cup. Mama’s busy.” Then she gets a metal bowl filled with small blocks from across the room and puts it in front of Silvie. “Look! Here are your blocks in the bowl! You like your blocks!” Silvie drops her cup on the floor, picks up the bowl and dumps out the blocks. Mama says, “OK, fill up the bowl again, Silvie. You can do it — one, two, three!” Silvie picks up one of the blocks, then drops it and crawls over to another toy. Mama returns to her work at the sink.

    What Silvie needs us to know now about the help she needs to become a ME

    I have just begun to walk, but I feel much surer of myself if you’re holding my hand. When I really want to get somewhere, I’d rather crawl because I can do that all on my own! Same with eating. I love cut-up food or Cheerios on my tray. Now that I can pick up tiny things, I can choose what I’ll eat next — or not! Papa and I have fun at diaper-changing time. He laughs when he sees me trying to lift my bottom up for the diaper. And I’m very proud that I can take a turn with you putting my blocks in the bowl you gave me, but I like dumping them out best!

    SILVIE AT 18 MONTHS: THE PRACTICING OF DOING WITH

    Silvie is walking around the kitchen, stopping periodically to pick up and briefly explore some of her toys. She picks up a board book, sits down and opens it, stopping to look closely at a page or two. She generally turns more than one page at a time, and soon discards it altogether. Her mother is putting dishes in the dishwasher. Suddenly, she drops a cup and the water in it splashes onto the floor. Silvie is quick to stand up, go to the cup and pick it up. She holds it to her lips, then holds it out to Mama. Mama says, “Oh, you want to practice? Wait, let’s mop up the water first.” She pulls down a towel as Sylvie drops the cup and puts her hand near her Mama’s; she laughs a little as they wipe up the water. Then Silvie points to the cup, looks at mama, grunts, points again, looks at mama and grunts. Mama says, “You want water in the cup?” Silvie brightens, wiggles a little, then puts both hands on her knees and grows still. Mama puts a tiny bit of water in the cup, holds it to Silvie’s lips, saying “This isn’t your cup, Silvie. There’s no top on it. Careful now.” Silvie puts both hands on the cup and pulls it away from her mama. As she lifts it to her lips quickly, some of the water spills and mama shakes her head, grins, and says, “Oh, Silvie!” as she uses the towel to pat Silvie’s face and shirt. Silvie laughs and bounces up and down. Mama laughs, too. “OK, Silvie! All gone.” Silvie says, “All gone.” Mama then points to the cupboard door that has Silvie’s “kitchen toys” in it. “What’s in there today, Silvie? You look and see while mama washes dishes.” Silvie stands up, walks quickly to the cupboard, opens the door, pulls out a large metal bowl, and sits down. She begins to pull out some small plastic cups and plates and toss them into the bowl, looking up at her mama with each one she pulls out. She looks for and finds a sponge in the cupboard and starts to “wash” the cups and plates. Mama says, “That’s right, Silvie! Silvie washes and Mama washes!” They smile at each other and mama returns to the sink.

    What Silvie needs us to know now about the help she needs to become a ME

    I really like to be wherever you are, Mama. And you have found ways to let me do that by putting things that are just for me in every room! Sometimes my things get all over the room, but you usually don’t get bothered by that, which is good because I like to play with lots of things. I can be busy for a long time when I’m able to pull things out, play with them, and then find different things. I love having choices. BUT … I’m always watching you and what you’re doing. Why? Because lots of times, I want to show you something, or ask for help, or watch what you’re doing and try to do what you’re doing. That way, we can still be close, but I don’t have to be actually right up close all the time. Sometimes I even leave the room, but only for a minute. It feels too … I don’t know what. I need to keep practicing this leaving and coming back thing. And you know what? When you show me that you like me being with you, like when you talk to me or help me, even if something goes wrong, I can do things you want me to do, even when I don’t want to do them, more than you might expect. When I don’t have to fight for my choices, it’s easier for me to let you have choices! Oh, but sometimes that’s very, very hard! My choices are really important to me! I guess it’s just that when you’re happier, I’m happier, so I try to (sigh) give in when you make it really clear to me that I have to. Mama, thanks for not making me do that too often.

    SILVIE AT 26 MONTHS: TRANSITIONING FROM DOING WITH TO STANDING BACK TO ADMIRE

    Mama is washing dishes at the sink and Silvie is sitting on the floor in the adjacent breakfast room, “reading” a book. Suddenly, she gets up and runs to mama and says, “Water, Mama!” while tugging at Mama’s jeans. Mama says, “You want a drink of water?” Silvie nods vigorously and says, “Drink of water.” Mama reaches for one of Silvie’s cups and begins to fill it. Silvie stamps her feet and shakes her head, saying, “No, no! Other cup!”  She points to a cup that does not have a lid. Mama pauses, sighs, and then says, “OK, Silvie, but it might spill. There’s no lid for that one. Careful now.” She puts a little water in the cup, crouches down and hands the cup to Silvie. Silvie begins to drink but loses her grasp and the water spills onto the floor. Mama says, “Oh, Silvie! It spilled!” and reaches quickly for a towel. Silvie again gets upset, grabs the towel and says, “Me do it! Me do it!” Mama sighs again and says, “OK, Silvie. You wipe up the water.” She stands up, takes a step back, folds her arms, and watches as Silvie holds the cloth in one hand and keeps turning it over to find dry places on it while she wipes and wipes and wipes the water away. Finally, she stops and looks up at Mama, who laughs softly. “You did it, Silvie; you did a fine job! Thank you!” Silvie grins broadly and says, “Welcome!” She returns to her book and Mama returns to her dishwashing

    What Silvie needs us to know now about the help she needs to become a ME

    Mama, I know it’s sometimes really hard for you to be patient with me. It used to be easier for me to stop doing something I chose to do and do what you wanted instead. But lately, now that I can think more about what I want to do, and I can actually do more of what I want to do, I just don’t see why I shouldn’t be able to keep at it! I’m so busy! I’m working hard! Look here, my protests are not really about you, they’re all about me! Actually, I think you do know that, because you try so hard to let me keep going, and when you have to stop me, you always talk to me about it. You try to explain, either why I have to stop, or that you know I’m not liking having to stop. Sometimes you say both. It doesn’t necessarily calm me down, but what I really hear is that you’re trying to help me. I may have to lose my choice, but I don’t have to lose you. What a relief. Whenever I “lose” me, you help me “find” me. This business about being a separate person takes a LOT of practice, and I can’t do it alone. Thanks to you, Mama, I can better focus on all there is to see and hear and learn about. I play better, I eat better, I sleep better.

    SILVIE AT 30 MONTHS: SILVIE AND HER MOTHER’S PRACTICING OF STANDING BACK TO ADMIRE

    Mama is washing dishes and Silvie walks into the room, saying, “I want water, Mama. I need it right now. Can I have water right now?” Mama says, “Please?” Silvie nods. Mama waits a second or two and then just says, “Sure Silvie.” She gets a non-breakable glass from the cupboard, fills it half full of water and holds it out to Silvie, who is cradling a favorite doll in the crook of her arm. Silvie says, “Here, Mama. Hold Baby.” Mama takes the doll and holds it in her hand. Silvie shakes her head and says with firmness, “No, Mama! Not that way! Baby likes this!” She grabs the doll and thrusts it into her mother’s bent elbow and moves her mother’s hand to hold the doll securely. Mama (wisely) looks at the doll and whispers, “Sorry, Baby.” Silvie gives a strong nod, gulps down all of the water and, with a gesture that clearly conveys self-pride, sets the glass firmly down on the counter. Mama says, “Wow! You were thirsty! You drank it so fast, and you never spill anymore. You’re such a growing girl.” Silvie nods and laughs, then picks up the glass again, holds it out to her mama and says, “You can take it now. It’s all gone!” Mama says, “Thank you, Silvie,” and laughs, too. With considerable gentleness, she hands the doll back to Silvie while saying, “Here you go, Baby, back to your mama.” Silvie looks thoughtfully at the doll for a moment, then at her mama, then back to the doll. Then she walks over to a low drawer by the stove, opens it, scans the contents, and gets out a small measuring cup and says, “My baby wants water now. Bye-bye.” Mama calls, “Wait! Come back and close the drawer, please.” Silvie runs back, pushed it shut, and runs out of the kitchen, chuckling as Mama says, “What a good Mamacita you are.” Mama chuckles, too, as she returns to her task.

    What Silvie needs us to know now about the help she needs to become a ME

    Hey, we could have had a big fight just now! You might have called me out for being so bossy. I felt kind of funny for a minute, but you weren’t mad, and you acted like I’m still your best girl, and I was so relieved. I just get carried away sometimes by how much I can do! This morning I pulled up my own pants, and I almost got my sweater on all by myself. Then I climbed the stairs to go get my baby, and I didn’t even have to hold the railing. Yes, I know you want me to hold it, but I was in a hurry! This day is actually going better now than it started out. I woke up screaming this morning because that boy Jamie at MyTia’s punched me! You came in and held me. You told me I dreamed it. I don’t know about that. I think he came into my room and punched me. He always wants his way at MyTia’s. Sometimes he grabs other kid’s toys. Everybody’s afraid of him. When his mama came to get him, Tia talked to her and then she yelled at him for being so mean. She called him BOSSY! She grabbed his arm and took him out the door. I felt scared inside. I went and stood by MyTia until you came to take me home. Mama? I love it when we laugh together.

    SILVIE AT 36 MONTHS: TRANSITIONING FROM STANDING BACK TO ADMIRE TO DOING FOR ONE’S SELF

    Mama is washing dishes at the kitchen sink. Silvie and her cousin from daycare come in from the back yard, each holding a long stick. They put the sticks down on the floor, take their sweaters off, and Silvie says, “Mama, I am Princess Magic Melda, and this is Princess Magic Zelda, and we’re thirsty!” Asked if they want water, the girls answer loudly and in unison, “Yes, please!” and giggle in delight to each other. While they’re waiting for the water Silvie says, “We have magic wands.” She opens the screen door, puts the sticks on the porch and comes back to stand next to her cousin. Mama hands two-handled cups to them and says, “Okey-dokey, here you are, my giggly girls. Here, I’ll hold the door for you. Walk carefully down the stairs so you don’t spill the water!” “Okey-dokey,” says Silvie, as the girls giggle and rush out the door. As they leave, they almost bump into Papa, who is coming up the back stairs. “Hey, Silvie! What’s the rush?” Continuing into the kitchen, he almost misses her stern reply as she and her friend rush down the stairs. “I’m not Silvie! I’m Princess Magic Melda! Bye!”

    What Silvie needs us to know now about the help she needs to become a ME

    I’m so happy today. I love being with my cousin. She has such good ideas. We talk about things and make plans about things. She wants me to go home with her and sleep over, but I don’t think I’m ready to do that yet. I like my cozy bed. I like the stories you and Papa read to me before I go to bed. I like when I wake up and come out to find you and you hug me and say, “Good morning, Princess!” I tell you what I want to wear, and I can pretty much dress myself. I tell you guys which cereal I want, and I eat all of it! When you remind me to put my dish and spoon in the sink, I’m proud that I can do it. On the way to MyTia’s, we sometimes sing. You and Papa make me feel so special. When I’m upset, you listen to me and try to help me feel better — even when you’re the ones who made me upset!! All in all, what I really like is knowing just how things are going to be! It’s what my pediatrician calls “being secure.” So, thanks.

    REFLECTIONS AND OPPORTUNITIES FOR WONDERING

    Toddlerhood is a word that is generally understood to encompass a distinct phase of early childhood development. Most commonly, it is almost synonymous with a period of time that is primarily burdened by challenges to parental authority — “control.”  Indeed, the term “terrible twos” is typically used with a rolling of eyes or a shake of the head. And depending on who’s saying it, it is a term that turns our attention quite quickly to the parents’ responsibility to “Do something!” to correct the problem, the menace, the forecast of adolescent delinquency and adult imprisonment.

    Thankfully, all manner of experts — developmentalists, psychologists, physicians, allied health practitioners, social workers, educators, and parents — have written clarifying and illuminating books about toddlerhood. And no wonder. It is a time that is at once exhilarating to behold and be a part of, and mind-boggling in its complexities. As for me, I have always been particularly drawn to the seemingly sudden and soon relentless call to “self-authority” that all but explodes soon after the first birthday of a previously mostly smiling “just-want-to-be-close-to-you” baby. I am even more captivated by the observable evidence that, when clear and limited authority is granted to this new monarch, there is a noticeable easing of tension that quite often restores, however briefly, periods of comfortable closeness and shared pleasure in being together.

    I continue to learn much from toddlers, the stories of parents and caregivers, and from new as well as treasured writings in my library of wise ones. As I wrote this paper, the books written expressively for or in support of the parents and caregivers of toddlers were much called to mind: T. Barry Brazelton (1992), Claire B. Kopp (2003, Doug Davies (2011), Selma Fraiberg (1959), Claudia Gold (2011), Alicia Lieberman (2017), Kyle Pruett (1999), Alan Sroufe (1996), and of course, Erna Furman (1982a, 1987, 1992, 2001).

    It is important to keep in mind that just as there are many ways to consider a toddler’s relationship needs, there are even more ways to consider possible, preferable and even prohibitive responses to those needs. As we ponder the best ways to promote optimal social-emotional development and well-being during this newly complex growth period, we are compelled to wonder: What helps? Who helps? How helpful can any one person with any one perspective or training or program funding sources actually be? We would be wise to periodically pause and call up the voices of developing toddlers and use those communications to quite consciously re-center us and strengthen our resolve to focus on and follow our best individual and collective steps of toddler-centered, relationship-based support and intervention.

    We might also want to stop along the way and consider the “voice” of early adolescence. When children have successfully protested being too old for babysitters and are experiencing a new kind of “caring for one’s self,” they are often called on to be babysitters, perhaps even for toddlers! What makes them successful? Their parents are nearby and ready to support as needed. The adolescents who ARE able to call on their parents when caregiving presents unfamiliar dilemmas or perhaps serious challenges, are, no surprise, most likely to be those who have carried forward supports they have stored away from back to when they were toddlers themselves. That’s when they got their first but not only boost in validation of their forages into autonomy, their push/pull gut feelings of marching forward vs. being cradled in loving arms. This, to me, is my best response to those who look at me with some confusion, saying, “So?”

    In response, let’s fast forward to a glimpse of Silvie as a 27-year-old who is, with her husband, parenting a 30-month-old. Grownup Silvie might very well want her parents to know:

    As I took my first steps and toddled unassisted, you were there to help me up when I fell, and there to prompt me to try again. In the face of fear, I could be courageous — because that’s what you showed me, taught me, gave me. And so today, your encouragement  and the confidence you expressed (even as I now realize with clenched teeth at times), are with me. Thanks, Mama. Thanks, Papa.

    And so it goes as each infant grows, one generation of toddlers growing up and begetting another, each new generation of infants striving first for selfhood and self-authority, and then very gradually growing toward the security of felt interdependence. I have written here in hopes of encouraging us to look, and keep looking, ever more closely, to learn the language and lessons of those who have no idea what toddlerhood is until given the opportunities to try it out and to practice, again and again and again. And let us take every opportunity to encourage the givers — those who do for, do with, and stand back to admire the developing sturdiness of selfhood, and remind them that their gifts will always be passed forward to future generations. All we can teach is what we know.

    • Ribaudo, J. & Beckett, H. (Feb. 2019). What is Going on in There? The Neonate Becomes an Infant. The Infant Crier. 

    REFLECTING AND WONDERING

    While reflecting on the vignettes of Silvie and her mama at each developmental stage of toddlerhood: Doing With, Standing Back to Admire, and Doing for Oneself, explore the following:

    • What are the key indicators in these vignettes that suggest the likelihood of Silvie and her parents’ successful practicing of:
      • Doing With?
      • Standing Back to Admire?
      • Doing for Oneself?
    • Identify some possible examples of parental responses at each developmental stage that might have compromised or precluded positive practicing experiences and suggested a need for specialized support or intervention.
    • As a relationship-based interventionist, how might you have supported Silvie and her parents in reducing stumbles and encouraging successes during each of these developmental phases? 

    REFERENCES

    Furman, E. (1982a). Mothers have to be there to be left. The Psychoanalytic Study of the Child, 37: 15-28. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press.

    Furman, E. (1987). Helping young children grow. Madison, CT: International Universities Press.

    Furman, E. (1992). Toddlers and their mothers: A study in early personality development. Madison, CT: International Universities Press.

    Furman, E. (2001). On being and having a mother. Madison, CT: International Universities Press.

    Gold, Claudia M. (2011), Keeping your child in mind: Overcoming defiance, tantrums, and other everyday behavior problems by seeing the world through your child’s eyes. Philadelphia, PA: Da Capo Lifelong Books.

    Ribaudo, J. & Beckett, H. (Feb. 2019). What is Going on in There? The Neonate Becomes an Infant. The Infant Crier. 

    RECOMMENDED READINGS

    Berry Brazelton (1992). Touchpoints: Your child’s emotional and behavioral development. Cambridge, MA: Perseus Publishing.

    Brazelton, T. B., Greenspan, S. I. (2000). The irreducible needs of children: What every child must have to grow, learn, and flourish. Cambridge, MA: Perseus Publishing.

    Davies, D. (2011). Child development: A practitioner’s guide. 3rd ed. New York: Guilford Press.

    Squires, J., Bricker, D. & Twombly, E. (2002). The ASQ:SE user’s guide: For the Ages & Stages Questionnaires: Social-emotional. Baltimore, MD, US: Paul H Brookes Publishing.

    Fraiberg, S. (1959). The magic years: Understanding and handling the problems of early childhood. New York: Scribner.

    Kopp, Claire B. (2003).Baby steps: A guide to your child’s social, physical, mental, and emotional development in the first two years (2nd ed.). NY: Henry Holt and Company.

    Lieberman, Alicia (2017), The emotional life of the toddler (2nd ed.). New York: Simon & Schuster.

    Kyle Pruett (1999), Pruett, K.D. (1999). Me, myself, and I: How children build their sense of self. New York: Goddard Press.

    Squires, J. & Bricker, D. (2009). Ages & Stages Questionnaires, Third Edition (ASQ-3). Baltimore, MD: Brookes Publishing.

    Sroufe, L. Alan (1996), Emotional development: The organization of emotional life in the early years. Cambridge MA: Cambridge University Press.

  • The Importance of Play in the Contexts of Relationships in Infant, Toddler, and Early Childhood Classrooms

    The Importance of Play in the Contexts of Relationships in Infant, Toddler, and Early Childhood Classrooms

    A recent article in The Atlantic (Christakis, 2016) lamented the overemphasis on academics that characterizes much of early childhood education today, noting that the preschool and kindergarten years serve more as gatekeepers than supporters and “welcoming mats” to the elementary school years, particularly for children at risk.  Indeed, the first five years of a child’s life are dedicated to the preparation for “kindergarten readiness,” and many teachers today are under pressure to engage in didactic teaching practices aimed at promoting young children’s literacy and math competencies.

    Unfortunately, such teaching methods often require young children to sit for long periods of time and reflect the use of highly structured teaching methods, paperwork and worksheets that are not in tune with the developmental needs of young children.  Even more concerning is that less developmentally appropriate practices are not only ineffective but also stressful for young children.  In fact, studies have shown that children in classrooms characterized by developmentally inappropriate practices show twice the level of stress (and stress-motivated behaviors) than their peers in more developmentally appropriate classrooms (Hart et al., 1998).  What do we mean by developmentally appropriate practices in early childhood?  For young children, play in the context of warm, supportive teacher-child relationships characterizes an optimal learning environment.

    David Elkind once said, “Learning teaches us what is known, play makes it possible for new things to be learned. There are many concepts and skills that can only be learned through play.” Unstructured play, also known as free play, provides so much opportunity for growth. As Horne (2018) explains, play allows young children to acquire and master skills across a variety of developmental domains.  Further, children are free to invest their full emotional energy in their exploration and learning when they share predictable, warm relationships with their teachers, and teacher-child relationship quality is related to children’s more advanced play.

    What skills are learned through play?

    Play builds a variety of skills!  Play in all areas of the early childhood classroom (e.g., centers such as the block area or pretend play area) offers opportunities for solitary play as well as play near and in collaboration with others.  Such experiences help children build important social skills and mastery motivation (the desire to learn a new skill or master a new competency, for example).  Allowing children to make their own choices about play promotes autonomy and mastery.  In a world in which children have little power, play allows children to make choices according to their interests and goals.  Additionally, play promotes communication and language skills — critical competencies given that it is through communication and language skills that our needs are met and desires are known throughout our lives. Language skills such as holding a conversation, negotiation, vocabulary, and listening skills are supported in play in all areas of the classroom.  Moreover, through play, emotional skills — the foundation for so much learning — are also challenged and developed.  The following are examples of skill development supported through play:

    Blocks and Manipulatives

    Building block towers invites opportunities to experiment with cause and effect and practice balance and eye-hand coordination.  Building structures involves planning and reasoning, opportunities to notice and sort blocks by shape and size (categorization, seriation, classifying objects, parts and wholes) and provides practice in spatial orientation (e.g., how blocks fit together). Working with puzzles involves experiments with spatial orientation, problem solving, and eye-hand coordination.  Explorations with Duplos, chunky Legos and similar materials invite experimentation with planning and problem-solving as well as exposure to sensory experiences.  Toys that produce interesting effects, like a jack-in-the-box, promote young children’s more rapid cause and effect learning and application of that knowledge in later play (Hauf & Aschersleben, 2008). Over time, block play and play with manipulatives expose children to mathematical concepts in meaningful ways.  For example, observing that two small square blocks equal one rectangular block is math, specifically fractions, at work!

    Sensory, Art and Music Experiences

    Painting, play dough, water play, sand play and other sensory experiences engage all five senses and provide cause and effect experimentation (e.g., what happens if I use a light stroke versus a heavy stroke; what happens when I keep pouring water into the cup?)  Zero to Three (www.zerotothree.org) describes the development of cause and effect understanding as one of the foundational cognitive discoveries in the early childhood years.  Like other areas of play, sensory play offers opportunities to explore rich new language as teachers and children notice interesting textures and scents and engage in visual exploration of interesting materials.

    Music experiences such as songs and chants promote literacy and language skills and also give young children practice in sequencing and memory skills (i.e., what comes next in this familiar story or repetitive chorus).  The development of these types of cognitive skills creates a positive early foundation from which the child can grow; such skills are related to a variety of later school-readiness and academic outcomes.

    Pretend Play Experiences

    Pretend play promotes perspective-taking and has been linked with the development of children’s self-regulation skills.

    For example, as pretend play becomes more advanced, it requires children to modulate their emotions and behaviors in response to others so that the play continues.  Self-regulation, the ability to alter our emotions and behaviors in response to internal (e.g., our thoughts) or external (e.g., others’ behaviors) signals play a role throughout life in helping us navigate social relationships, school and work environments.  Pretend play also offers opportunities for practicing language skills, and children’s language acquisition is richer in the context of play than in other classroom activities (Cohen & Uhry, 2007).  Stanley Greenspan explained that through pretend play children also explore major themes in life, such as what it means to love and be loved.  The child cradling and feeding a doll in the pretend play area is not only imitating observed behaviors but also enacting how loving relationships look and feel.

    Motor Play Experiences

    Learning about our bodies is a fundamental task of early development. Through physical activity, children learn spatial awareness skills (e.g., imagine a toddler learning how to move her body around another child rather than walking into the other child), balance and  how to be safe.  Opportunities to practice fine and gross motor skills are also associated with children’s acquisition of strength and motor coordination.  Moreover, providing interesting and novel materials promotes motor exploration.  For example, infants make different types of stepping movements on coarse textures than they do on smooth textures.  Motor play also offers opportunities for language exploration and for developing cognitive concepts, such as opposites (in/out of the sandbox; over/under the slide).   Additionally, motor skills are related to many other areas of development.  For example, the ability to crawl or walk allows a young child to move away from a caregiver or teacher and return, allowing infants and toddlers to practice managing brief separations. Even this type of brief separation and reunion reinforces that infants and toddlers can be effective in finding their “safe base” whenever needed. So, in short, motor skills are related to attachment relationships!

    Bookshare Experiences

    Books provide opportunities for motor and sensory explorations as infants and toddlers explore books with their eyes, hands, and mouths.  Books and storytelling invite toddlers and preschoolers to hypothesize what will happen next (e.g., “If you give a mouse a cookie….  What do you think he’ll want next?”)  Books and storytelling proving opportunities to practice cognitive skills like sequencing (e.g., the repetitive text of “Caps for Sale” provides practice in sequencing). Young children’s stories addressing affective experiences (joy, sadness, anxiety) provide important openings to talk about the emotional cues, the contexts of emotions, empathy and perspective taking.  From manipulating books, children acquire literacy knowledge including understandings of written language, letter and word identification and book knowledge.  Sharing books and stories together, as with other forms of play, offer relationship building experiences as children, their peers, and teachers share interests and joy in being together.

    Cooperative Mealtime Experiences

    Mealtimes also offer developmental opportunities.  Meals build a sense of community as children engage in prosocial behaviors such as setting the table, passing bowls of food around the table, talking and being together.  Sensory explorations of food textures, scents, sights, and tastes promote sensory development and language skills.  Math concepts, such as one to one correspondence, are supported as children place one cup and one plate at each place setting or as a teacher or other children notice: “I had three crackers.  I ate one and so I have two crackers left.”   Children’s sense of self and autonomy are supported as children serve themselves in family-style dining in the classroom.

    What does play look like?

    Play offers many developmental benefits when supported and promoted in ways that are sensitive and responsive to children’s cues and interests.  Rymanowicz (2015) summarizes many of the key characteristics of high-quality play.

    • Self-chosen and self-directed. The beauty of play is that it is based on children’s emerging interests and goals rather than on those of the adults.  This is a critical feature of play.  For example, studies have shown that child-selected activities predict greater vocabulary skills than do teacher-directed activities (Lippard, Choi & Walter, 2019).
    • The process, not the product.  It is through the process of play that skills are practiced and acquired regardless of what a final product might be.  For example, it is the joy of feeling grass on the feet that promotes sensory development not the end result of walking outside.  It is not a completed block structure that promotes skills development; it is the journey of selecting blocks, stacking them, determining what makes the structure balance or topple, and so on that builds competencies.  Some play is exploratory with no particular goal in mind outside of experiencing the moment.  Other play has a goal determined by the child, and, often such goals are more about the creation process than a particular product (e.g., consider how many times you notice a child’s process and ending outcomes change and morph as the child engages in play).
    • Individually constructed.  The child or children in play together determine the structure of the play — that is, the organization, pace and boundaries of play.  As I explain below, teachers can support and scaffold children’s experiences but their actions should be guided by children’s processes and cues.
    • Imaginative, Active, and Fluid.  One of the most interesting things to watch in  children’s play is that it is not always tied to the rules of the “real world.”  In their play, children will escape the bounds of reality and, at other times, they will practice their understanding of the real world as expressed in their play. Play themes morph frequently, and these are examples of creative thinking and problem-solving. Teachers can learn a great deal about how children are feeling and what they are thinking by observing their play.

    It is important to understand that every child develops differently and because of this each child’s play will look differently. It is through play that young children learn about our “symbolic world” and the themes and subjects we experience every day. Child psychiatrist Stanley Greenspan created the Floortime approach, which emphasizes the importance of child-led floor time to engage the child in complex play scenarios that build on real world readiness skills. Floortime encourages children to take initiative but also learn to negotiate and tolerate frustration, to engage in longer play episodes as skills are acquired, to communicate interests and needs, and to plan and carry out actions.  Greenspan’s model has most often been applied to children with special needs, but the principles of his approach are relevant to children of all developmental abilities.  Greenspan’s approach also emphasizes the importance of the symbolic world and recommends identifying and supporting real-life experiences (e.g., encouraging role playing) that are known to the child and are of interest to the child.

    How do we support learning in play using a relationships-based approach? 

    In an early childhood classroom, play should comprise the majority of the day.  When children are enacting their own choices, they are fully engaged, which means their focus and attention are in full bloom and the opportunities are endless.  Not only does this promote brain development and skill development, but it makes a young one want to come to school, want to learn and want to explore. But how is play best supported by relationships?  Relationships promote play in two key ways.

    First, from an attachment-based perspective, young children’s experiences reflect a balance between the need for autonomy and exploration and the need for emotional security.

    When the needs for emotional security are not met, emotional and physical energy is channeled to security needs at the expense of autonomy and exploration.

    So, building close, predictable, warm relationships with young children affords them greater energy to devote toward autonomy and exploration, and that equates to greater learning and more optimal development.  For example, research has shown that warm, secure teacher-child relationships promote preschoolers’ self-regulation skills (Cadima, Verschueren, Leal, & Guedes, 2016), and teachers’ responsive interactions with children are linked to children’s cognitive skills (Hamre, Hatfield, Pianta, & Jamil, 2014).

    Second, relationships provide the context in which teachers scaffold children’s play in individualized ways. As we observe young children in play, an infant mental health perspective leads us to ponder not only “What about the baby?” but “What about this child?”  We ask ourselves, “What is the child thinking, feeling, experiencing in this moment? What does this child want and need in this moment?”  From this reflective stance, with the goal of understanding the child’s internal states (e.g., thoughts, feelings, needs, goals), teachers respond with intention to support and scaffold children’s play in ways that are aligned to the child’s interests and goals.  By carefully considering what children need from us, teachers communicate respect and appreciation for young children as individuals each with their own unique experiences, interests, and goals.

    In short, teacher-child relationships enable the child to feel felt and heard, and, in turn, children are emotionally fueled to learn and grow.   

    Below are teaching practices that use the relationship to scaffold play and learning.

    • Be physically and emotionally present. Teaching is complex, challenging work.  Given high rates of teacher stress, it can be difficult to be fully present in the moment with the child.  Teachers have the difficult task of managing competing demands for their time, attention and support while also regulating their internal thoughts, emotions, and perceptions of stress.  Yet, it is the teacher’s emotional presence and participation with children that promote children’s learning in the most optimal ways.
      • Watch and Respond to Cues: As noted by Rymanowicz (2015), teachers participate most sensitively by watching and responding to children’s cues. This allows the child to stay in the lead of play while also helping children to form connections between concepts in play.  When teachers allow children to take the lead and wait for invitations to play, children are more likely to feel felt and heard.
      • Use Open-Ended Questions and Comments Wisely: Research has shown that teachers’ sensitive (well-timed and not intrusive) open-ended questions promote children’s more complex block building and pretend play skills.  Well-placed questions and comments (e.g., observations about children’s activities) promote and extend play.
      • Value the Importance of Observation: Sally Provence once wisely advised, “Don’t just do something. Stand there and pay attention!”  Sometimes being physically and emotionally present does not always involve direct interaction with the child.  Sometimes supporting play means observing and learning about the child’s development from your observations.  Being an active observer and learner alongside the child gives teachers important insights into children’s developmental needs and interests.  These observations come in handy when planning future learning experiences.  Sometimes supporting means interacting and scaffolding sensitively.
      • Share the Same Level in Space: Finally, being physically and emotionally present also extends to where and how teachers place themselves in the classroom. Taking time to talk with children at their eye level and using open body position/body language communicates to children that their thoughts, communicative intentions and/or words are valued and desired.
    • Respect the child’s discoveries. From our adult perspectives, we know how things are “supposed” to work; we understand the most effective and efficient ways to engage materials.  We want to see children succeed.  Collectively, this means that teachers may be tempted to show children the “right” way to engage materials or carry out play.  Yet it is the creative process, the mistakes, the rethinking and execution of a new plan and “owning” the experiences and discoveries that promote children’s critical thinking, problem solving skills, conceptual development and sense of mastery (Rymanowicz, 2015).  Support the child by using well placed open-ended questions to allow deeper investigations to take place.  Early childhood teachers are most effective as partners in children’s play rather than as supervisors or leaders of the play.
    • Trust the process. Growth and development progresses in each child in unique timetables.  A “one size fits all” approach to curricular development and teaching rarely works.  Individualizing experiences for children and tailoring our interactions to each child’s temperament, prior experiences, interests and goals is most effective in promoting early development.
    • Avoid interruption and be flexible. As a teacher, I’d like to add another important attribute to this section. Play needs to be uninterrupted.  Uninterrupted play means allowing  a child to be an explorer and learner and being flexible when young children are immersed in play.  For example, teachers who allow a child to finish play or come to a natural pausing or stopping point before inviting the child to diapering or toileting communicate respect for the child as an individual.  Extending free play time for a few minutes to allow children to complete their play or supporting children who wish to bring a toy with them for self-care routines are other examples of flexibility.

    Classroom Environment

    Finally, relationship-based approaches also inform how teachers create the early childhood environment.  The environment is thought of as the third teacher and reflects teachers’ perspectives about relationships. Here are some aspects to think about when setting up a learning environment.

    • A classroom should be an inviting space that the children see as their own. Spaces for personal belongings, such as a cubby, and spaces for community belongings, such as where the watering can for the class plants is stored, help children know what to expect and to feel welcomed and valued. Other strategies include displaying children’s work throughout the classroom, involving children in care of the classroom, and creating photo books featuring children in the classroom, families, and shared experiences reflect high-quality relationship-based practices.  Experts also suggest using the language of community, such as referring to the children in the classroom as “friends” and referring to “our classroom” to build relationships and emotional closeness (which translates into emotional energy for well-being and learning).
    • Another important element is the design of the room. Materials should be chosen for a reason rather than to fill shelves. Making materials easily accessible to children builds autonomy.  The room should be created to inspire and promote wonder and curiosity.

    Play is for a critical component in healthy, early development.  When supported and facilitated in effective ways, play has a dramatic impact on cognitive, language, physical and social-emotional development.  As early childhood educators we have a huge job on our hands. A job that when done in effective, relationship-based ways contributes to children’s bright futures. I challenge you to imbed play into your curriculum. Allow children the time for uninterrupted, meaningful play and you will see the results! Good luck!

    References:

    Cadima, J., Verschueren, K., Leal, T. & Guedes, C. (2016). Classroom interactions, dyadic teacher–child relationships, and self–regulation in socially disadvantaged young children. Journal of abnormal child psychology, 44(1), 7-17.

    Christakis, E. (2016). The new preschool is crushing kids.  The Atlantic, January/February. Retrieved from https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2016/01/the-new-preschool-is-crushing-kids/419139/.

    Cohen, L. & Uhry, J. (2007). Young children’s discourse strategies during block play: A Bakhtinian approach. Journal of Research in Childhood Education, 21(3), 302-315.

    Hamre, B., Hatfield, B., Pianta, R., & Jamil, F. (2014). Evidence for general and domain‐specific elements of teacher-child interactions: Associations with preschool children’s development. Child development, 85(3), 1257-1274.

    Hauf, P. & Aschersleben, G. (2008). Action-effect anticipation in infant action control. Psychological Research, 72(2), 203-210.

    Horne, A. (2018). All Work No Play. Bridges Care and Education Center https://www.bridgescareandeducationcenter.com/single-post/2018/11/15/All-Work-and-No-Play?fbclid=IwAR0UrQsUzJt3mGFDqaX32T1-to0tZ5CCJcvrRjcoL56a_wumdMvhsg2M_E4

    Rymanowicz, K. (2015, Oct. 19). The power of play — Part 2: Born to play. In Michigan State University — MSU Extension.  http://www.canr.msu.edu/news/the_power_of_play_part_2_born_to_play

  • The Importance of Promoting Diversity in Early Childhood Programs

    The Importance of Promoting Diversity in Early Childhood Programs

    Diversity and its Importance in Early Childhood

    The concept of diversity takes various forms and is incorporated into many aspects of our life. From religion, gender, culture, family structures, and physical abilities, we are each brought into this world made up of many differences. For years we have thought that children will automatically form positive outlooks about the differences we each convey if we do not speak of those differences. However, research has shown that advocating and exposing children to diversity requires active promotion. Rodolfo Mendoza-Denton, a social psychologist at the University of California, says that we often think that young children are colorblind to differences, and we are hesitant to point out differences for fear that it promotes prejudice (Denton, 2011). However, numerous studies have shown that infants as young as 6 months are able to categorize people by both gender and race (Katz & Kofkin, 1997). By 2 years, toddlers use their recognition of race to reason about people’s behaviors. During toddlerhood, children notice and reason about differences, but studies also show that toddlers do not act on observed differences. However, by age 5, children express preferences for their own race (Kinzler & Spelke, 2011).  It is through daily interactions and observations of others’ comments and verbal and nonverbal behaviors that young children attribute particular meaning to race, culture and other forms of diversity.  By the late preschool years, such understandings inform behavior.

    By ignoring young children’s attention to these differences, we as professionals unintentionally contribute to the prejudice and stereotypes that they gather from society.  In fact, young children’s racial beliefs are heavily influenced by their environments (Winkler, 2009). Silence about race doesn’t prevent children from noticing racial and other differences; instead, silence inhibits them from asking questions and having conversations about it. This is an especially important issue in classrooms lacking racial and ethnic diversity.

    In less diverse environments, less exposure to diverse groups results in fewer conversations about diversity and, in turn, provides more room for prejudice. Wolpert states that we tend to assume that inclusion alone creates respect for differences. However, it is active conversation and support for children’s understanding of diversity that guards against the development of the stereotypes and prejudice that contribute to biased behavior (Wolpert, 1999). From the beginning of life, we all receive messages through television, computer games, music and books.

    An anti-bias curriculum is an active process, using these outlets to foster exposure and later conversations about differences, diversity and, as the child develops, a sense of self.

    What is Anti-bias Curriculum? What are the Goals?

    According to the National Association for the Education of Young Children (NAEYC), an Anti-bias Curriculum is based on the educator’s deep belief in a system of justice and equality for all people, giving each child the opportunity for achievement. When implementing anti-biased approaches with infants and toddlers in mind, two of NAEYC’s goals stand out.  The first is that “Children express comfort within diversity, accurate language and caring human connections.” The second recognizes children’s emerging skills (with teachers’ support) in “recognizing unfairness and understand that it hurts.” Such skills become more evident during the preschool years as children begin to mature socially and emotionally and as they gain skills in perspective over time, but the roots of empathy are built in infancy and toddlerhood. In her book Start Seeing Diversity, Wolpert also outlines similar goals reinforcing the needs and importance for anti-bias curricula, one of which is to promote the child’s developing awareness of these differences and to help foster preschoolers’ empathic responses to others (Wolpert, 1999, p.13).

    Effects on Children, Parents and Practitioners

    How does an anti-bias curriculum affect relationships within these groups?   Secure relationships are typically characterized by respect, compassion, and awareness of self and other,  characteristics that are also consistent with anti-bias perspectives.  Secure relationships between teachers and children provide a trusting environment in which children are supported to grow and learn, including learning about similarities and differences in each other and in their communities.  For teachers, high-quality trusting relationships with colleagues and supervisors provide a safe environment in which teachers may feel empowered to become aware of their own implicit biases. In turn, awareness empowers us to notice when bias is informing our perceptions of and interactions with others and to take active steps to change our perceptions and interactions.   Of course, relationships are also important between parents and practitioners. Anti-bias curricula have a way of promoting these relationships by providing a welcoming sense to parents from diverse family structures and backgrounds. This allows for greater trust and communication between parents and professionals as they work toward supporting development for the child. An anti-bias system is a way of thinking that is translated by both parents’ and teachers’ actions and language.

    Parents

    Studies have shown that the parents of ethnic-minority children engage in racial socialization, defined by the American Psychological Association as the ways in which those parents teach their children how to navigate in a society that often presents racial inequalities and may associate them with negative stereotypes (Gaskin, 2015). These teachings also may include emphasizing the importance of one’s race and culture when it is not commonly or positively portrayed in society. Studies have found common themes in racial socialization to be teaching “cultural socialization, preparation for bias, promotion of mistrust egalitarianism and silence about race” (Strain, 2017). Often acts of racial socialization are not direct but may be subliminal messages that children receive from parents and extended family. Unfortunately, these messages may often include messages of bias and mistrust that children may begin to perceive about majority groups (Reynolds, 2017).

    By incorporating anti-bias curricula, we as educators have opportunities to support children as they begin to see and embrace differences between themselves and others. Sadie Strain’s review on White Families and Socialization shows just how effective taking a colorblind approach has on the biases and assumptions of young children on diverse groups (Strain, 2017). By not talking about race to either ethnic-minority children or to those considered in the majority, we allow for development of negative assumptions, which are constantly influenced by the media. With the incorporation of anti-bias curricula in early childhood programs, we are able to combat these fears of mistrust stemming from both groups as they have opportunities to learn about each other.

    Important Aspects in an Anti-Bias Curriculum

    Professional Self-Awareness

    One of the most crucial aspects of developing an anti-bias curriculum is the self-awareness of the professionals. We all have our own internal, implicit biases and it is important to become aware of them and how we think because these biases influence our behaviors and teaching to others. As stated in NAEYC, incorporating anti-bias approaches in a program is less about adding physical diverse materials and more about the overall goal of promoting opportunities for everyone to be represented.

    Self-awareness can often be difficult to achieve because we are already equipped with our own biases, stereotypes and assumptions (Derman-Sparks, 2015, p.14). For Diversity-Informed Practice, Shea and McCormick (2017) discuss how professionals need to take a step back and reflect on how systems of oppression such as racism, sexism, homophobia and classism have had affected their lives. We often create conscious — as well as unconscious — stereotypes about certain groups based on our past experiences. Chandra Ghosh-Ippen reminds us that we want to ask these questions of ourselves but also of others.  That is, we are encouraged to consider the histories of others that differ from our own experiences, including how differences in histories reflect significant differences in felt and lived experiences.  By taking and maintaining a stance of openness and reflectiveness about self and other, we are better positioned to curb our biases.  Professionals are encouraged to review the Program for Infant and Toddler Care (PITC) training on Ethnic Self-Awareness https://www.pitc.org/cs/pitclib/view/pitc_res/261.

    Notice Differences

    Numerous studies have shown us how children as young as 6 months are able to recognize differences in characteristics such as race and hair texture. When incorporating an anti-bias curriculum, you can often learn what children are noticing through daily interactions with them. If you see that children are noticing differences in hair color, you may begin to introduce dolls that have various hair colors and textures. You may even incorporate experiences in the classroom that point out differences and similarities of children within the class, showing that you are all one community but have things about you that make you unique.

    Respond to Awareness

    As you notice the children commenting on their differences, the way you respond to their awareness can have a substantial effect on how they view them. A big misconception is that pointing out differences is the same as racism. This is incorrect because there would need to be an awareness of a stereotype associated with the given race. In young children you can help form positive views by celebrating differences (Denton, 2011). Prejudice and stereotypes come from society teaching that certain groups are deemed “good” while other are seen as “bad.” For example, when children notice someone of another race, they often point out their skin tone. Embrace their awareness of differences and even give praise on the beauty of the individual they noticed. More important, you can point out to the child what the individual has to offer as opposed to focusing on their looks (Parents, 2018). This can be bringing attention to another language they may speak or even a culture they are a part of.

    Incorporate Diverse Materials

    In the zero to three years, the goal of a diversity inclusive curriculum is to expose children to different categories of things they commonly encounter. For example, this may be exposure to toys representing foods found in different cultures in a pretend play area and eating foods from different cultures at mealtimes. Because the visual environment is such an important framework, educators should be sure to include images of the children and staff in their program along with their families. This can be a great example of showing different family dynamics while also instilling a sense of self in the child.

    Around play areas teachers can provide images of various types of work showing a fair balance of men and women, as well as a balance of ethnic and racial groups (Derman-Sparks, 1989, p.12). Differently abled people and images of the elderly engaging in various activities should also be depicted. Books are another great incorporation as they can reflect different abilities, genders, and cultural backgrounds. Having a book in multiple languages gives good exposure to diverse populations as well. The goals of this curriculum can be implemented through different types of play, art materials and dolls as well. In their article Why Classroom Diversity Matters in Early Education, Reid and Kagan explain that because of funding, many early childhood education programs are often economically segregated. This results in an unintentional segregation of children by race and ethnicity as well (Reid and Kagan, 2015, p.5). These figures put an even greater importance on exposing and introducing children to diverse populations in these settings. The intention of incorporating an anti-bias curriculum is to promote overall education for all children, both those found in the majority and minority groups.

    References

    (2018). Age by Age Guide to Talking bout Race. Parents. https://www.parents.com/parenting/better-parenting/teaching-tolerance/talking-about-race-with-kids/

    Derman-Sparks, L. & LeeKeenan, D. (2015). Leading Anti-Bias Early Childhood Programs. New York, NY: Teachers College Press.

    Derman-Sparks, L. (1989). Anti-bias Curriculum: Tools for Empowering Young Children. Washington, DC: National Association for the Education of Young Children.

    Gaskin, A. (2015). Racial Socialization. American Psychological Association. https://www.apa.org/pi/families/resources/newsletter/2015/08/racial-socialization.aspx

    Katz, P.A. & Kofkin, J. A. (1997). Race, gender, and young children. Developmental Psychopathology: Perspectives on Adjustment, Risk, and Disorder, 21, 51-74.

    Kinzler, K.D. & Spelke, E. S. (2011). Do infants show social preferences for people differing in race? Cognition, 119(1), 1-9.

    Mendoza-Denton, R. (2011). Should We Talk to Young Children About Race? Psychology Today. https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/are-we-born-racist/201104/should-we-talk-young-children-about-race

    National Association for the Education of Young Children. Anti-Bias Education. https://www.naeyc.org/resources/topics/anti-bias-education/overview

    Reid, J. & Kagan, S. (2015). A Better Start: Why Classroom Diversity Matters in Early Education. Washington, DC: The Century Foundation.

    Reynolds, J. (2017). Predictors of Ethnic-Racial Socialization Profiles in Early Childhood Among African American Parents. Ann Arbor, MI: ProQuest.

    Shea, S. & McCormick, A. (2017). Diversity-Informed Metal Health Practice in Our Current Context. The Infant Crier. https://infantcrier.mi-aimh.org/diversity-informed-infant-mental-health-practice-in-our-current-context/

    Strain, S. (2017). White Families, and Racial Socialization: A Review. American Cultural Studies Capstone Research Papers. 7. h2ps://cedar.wwu.edu/fairhaven_acscapstone/7

    Winkler, E. (2009). Children Are Not Colorblind: How Young Children Learn Race. HighReach Learning.

    Wolpert, E. (1999). Start Seeing Diversity: The Basic Guide to an Anti-Bias Classroom. St. Paul, MN: Redleaf Press.

  • What’s Going on in There? The Neonate Becomes an Infant

    What’s Going on in There? The Neonate Becomes an Infant

    ‘There is no such thing as an infant’, meaning, of course, that whenever one finds an infant one finds maternal care, and without maternal care there would be no infant.”  (Winnicott, 1960, p. 585)

    Abstract: In the first of a series of articles about early childhood development, the Michigan Association for Infant Mental Health’s (MI-AIMH) esteemed Michael Trout asked us to consider what is happening in the mind of expectant parents, particularly that of the mother. This article ponders the evolution of a neonate through the first year of life. Precisely because each baby is a being with unique biology, temperament, feelings, experiences, and ways of experiencing and learning, much is to be discovered and understood about them.  The question of “what is going on in there?” is especially salient given that the baby’s wordless communication requires adult caregivers to intuit, infer, hypothesize and experiment. As we walk alongside parents who struggle to come to know their infant, we are required to have conceptual knowledge of how a newborn becomes a fully awakened infant. Beginning with the influence of parental perception, eloquently described by Trout,  this chapter of our series will explore the development of attachment and how that influences relational expectations, communication, and social-emotional development. Each of these domains of development is impacted by factors other than attachment, but it is by now clear that babies grow in the context of relationship, and the quality of those relationships affects  the physiological and psychological organization of the baby.

    Isn’t She Lovely: The Birth

    “What a glorious conclusion to the amazing developmental/psychological work of pregnancy: to be able, at the end, to say “Goodbye” in the service of saying “Hello.”  (Trout, 2018)

    Who is this tiny being the parent(s) are greeting? We are accustomed to hearing the search for clues: Who does he resemble? How does she cuddle in? Do they1 cry immediately or are they an “easy” baby? For the parents, the “real” newborn is meeting the “imagined” baby (Stern, 1999) and that encounter introduces the first threads of the unfolding relationship. The way the baby has been perceived throughout pregnancy is not inconsequential. Caregiver representations of their infant exert a powerful influence on the manner in which the baby’s signals and cues are experienced, comprehended and responded to (Rosenblum, Dayton, & Muzik, 2019; Dayton, Levendosky, Davidson, & Bogat, 2010;) and are indicated in the development of attachment (Vreeswijk, Maas, & van Bakel, 2012). If, as in Trout’s  example  on the developmental tasks of pregnancy (2018), the baby represents the mother’s ‘irrational, perhaps, but no less profound’ sense of failure to protect the baby from environmental toxins, then worries of normalcy or loss, and fears of inadequacy are likely to color the initial greeting — saying “hello” to this new being.

    The transactional model (Sameroff, 2010; Sameroff & MacKenzie, 2003) elucidates the process by which parental perception is one pathway to infant outcomes. In a transactional way, first the “infants stimulate their parents, either through their appearance or behavior; second, the parents impose some meaning system on the input; and third, the parents then react with some form of caregiving (Sameroff & MacKenzie, 2003, p. 19). We can imagine a mother, already predisposed to conscious or unconscious worries about the health of her baby, selectively attending to behaviors that confirm her worry that she has irreparably harmed her baby. She may hear his cries as more intense or as signaling excessive fragility, and thus tend to him with a level of anxiety that is transmitted to him, intensifying his cries. Thus the cycle begins.

    It does not have to play out this way, of course. There are a myriad of ways their interactions might unfold. A kindly nurse might normalize his cries, appease the mother’s worries and set the parent-infant relationship on a different course. A grandmother might note “Oh, he sounds just like you when you were a baby,” thus linking the past and the present in a way that affirms health and survival. For the IMH specialist, what is salient is that listening for the meaning of the baby to the parent is worthy of our careful attention as it offers a port of entry when there is a distortion or withdrawal from the baby. With an awareness that the baby may represent an array of past people and experiences, we can intervene to help the caregiver come to know the real baby. 

    Getting to Know You, Getting to Know All About You: The Early Weeks

    In the first month of life, the neonate becomes increasingly physiologically adjusted to life outside the womb. They1 become familiar with the sights, sounds, smells, touch and movement that begin to shape their experience of the world. The physical and emotional nature of interaction with caregivers begins to develop the attachment relationship. Ainsworth, in her seminal work, spent hundreds of hours, first in Uganda, then in Baltimore, observing the developing relationship between babies and their mothers (Ainsworth, 1967; Ainsworth, Blehar, Waters & Wall, 1978). She identified four phases of the development of infant-mother2 attachment.

    ____________________

    1They is a gender-neutral term for a person and will be occasionally used in this article. In most instances, though, for sake of clarity, the parent will be referred to as she and the baby as he or they.

    2 Though Ainsworth and other early attachment studies focused on mothers, primarily because of the cultural context, “mothering” is non-gendered, and no inference is made that only females can be primary attachment figures.

    In the early weeks of life, the “initial preattachment phase” (Ainsworth, et al., 1978, p. 23), the baby orients to any person who is in proximity, seeming not to differentiate the mother from other people. His inborn care-seeking behaviors include crying, “rooting, sucking, grasping and postural adjustments” (p. 23) that allow him to signal or maintain contact with another. Later research noted that neonates recognize the sound of their mother’s voice (DeCasper & Spence, 1986) and the smell of her breast milk (Marlier, Schaal, & Soussignan, 1998) so even though the baby may settle for a variety of caregivers, the presence of their mother is still sure to be a source of familiarity.

    Once the newborn’s sensory systems begin to consolidate, they become increasingly capable of differentiating their primary caregiver from other people. Through smells, sounds and sight, they discern not only familiar from unfamiliar people, but between familiar people as well. It is in this phase, beginning between eight and 12 weeks and known as the “attachment-in-the-making phase,” that we notice the baby show differential smiles, settle for a few key caregivers more readily than others and more specifically orient and cue particular caregivers than others. A home visitor, asked to hold a baby for a few minutes while the mother attends to a toddler, might notice that they baby shifts his body in order to retain visual contact with the mother. In offering developmental guidance that supports the important emerging relationship with the primary caregiver, we have often been heard to say on a home visit, “Yes, yes, I know! You don’t know me and you want to be able to see your momma!”

    Once an infant is capable of rolling, scooting, and crawling (i.e., approximately six through eight months), he is now capable of taking a more active role in seeking out proximity to his preferred caregiver. He may still occasionally prefer to signal through crying, smiling or reaching, but now, especially as he becomes increasing motorically competent, he is also able to scramble up on the parent, bury his head into a lap when anxious or alarmed, or crawl to a parent for a quick snuggle and emotional recharge. The capacity to locomote signals the onset of the phase of “clear-cut attachment.” The same capacity to seek out the caregiver also allows the child the ability to more actively explore the environment. It is the balance of the capacity to explore the environment and to return to a “safe haven” when alarmed, tired, hungry or ill that differentiates the quality of the attachment relationship. As Bowlby noted,

    “All of us, from the cradle to the grave, are happiest when life is organised as a series of excursions, long or short, from the secure base provided by our attachment figures” (1988, p. 62).

    Mounds and decades of research have described, studied and elaborated the styles of attachment relationships shaped in the first year of life. Through day-to-day interactive exchanges, babies begin to form schemas, or expectancies of their world, including mental maps of the self, the other and the self-in-interaction-with-the-other. Bowlby described these “internal working models” (1988, p. 165) as meaningful and reasonable ways of understanding the world in order to predict others’ behavior and to “plan” accordingly (realizing full well that this is a nonconscious process in the first year of life). In an era where much therapeutic treatment was constructed on the idea that babies were capable of generating and acting upon fantasies about their parents (Abram & Hinshelwood, 2018), Bowlby held fast to the notion that infants were responding to and developing ways of interacting with the actual environment. In other words,

    if parents were accepting of the baby’s strong emotions or bids for interaction, the baby would begin to construct a sense of self as worthy of care and protection.

    More current research has also confirmed his hypothesis that responsive caregiving during the first year of life plays a critical, though by no means sole, role in  healthy development (Schore, 2005; Sroufe, Coffino & Carson, 2010 ).

    Baby Mine: Patterns of Attachment

    Books and papers abound that describe the typical patterns of attachment. Briefly, attachment theory describes four basic styles of attachment: three “organized” styles (Ainsworth et al., 1978) and one “disorganized” style (Hesse & Main, 1999).  In the organized patterns, the caregiver, during the first year of life, has responded in ways that are relatively consistent or predictable, allowing the baby to develop a mental map of what can be expected from their caregiver. Babies who by the end of the first year are coded as “secure” in standardized assessment procedures, most typically the Strange Situation Procedure (Ainsworth, et al., 1978; Sroufe, et al., 2010), have experienced reliable, predictable and sensitive responsivity from their caregivers (Bowlby, 1988). Their tender needs and their needs for exploration have been, on balance, accepted. They are confident in the knowledge that their parent is a source of safety, both psychic and physical, and thus they are free to explore their environment. These babies develop “positive expectations concerning relationships with others, beginning capacities for emotion regulation and object mastery skills because of how secure attachment promotes exploration” (Sroufe, et al. 2010, p. 46). For these babies and caregivers, relationships are a source of pleasure and joy. Home visitors may find themselves relieved to visit these families, noticing the sense of attunement and comfort in the parent-infant relationship. In the context of visiting families where poverty of resources, and sometimes poverty of hope, prevail, seeing babies who are secure is a welcome salve.

    Infants who develop insecure patterns of attachment lack confidence in the responsivity or availability of their caregivers. In one direction, babies who develop an avoidant attachment have experienced repeated rejection or rebuffing in times of heightened distress or fear. Their mothers, in home observations conducted by Ainsworth (Ainsworth, et al., 1978), were observed to experience irritability and anger in interaction with their baby far more often than mothers of secure babies. They showed a restricted range of affect and often did not enjoy physical contact with their baby. These babies, by the end of the first year of life, learn to minimize their displays of need by turning their attention away from caregivers, often toward toys or other inanimate objects.  In addition to having to hide their need for comfort in order to avoid rejection, they also must mask their anger, lest it provoke more parental anger and rejection. As Bowlby described, “When in marked degree such an individual attempts to live his life without the support of others, he tries to become emotionally self-sufficient…” (1988, p. 124).

    Infants who develop a resistant, aka ambivalent, attachment to their mothers are uncertain about their caregiver’s emotional availability. In the Minnesota longitudinal study (Sroufe, Egeland, Carlson, & Collins, 2005), mothers of future ambivalent children were the “least psychologically aware” of any mothers in the study. Ainsworth et al. (1978) found the mothers of ambivalent babies to be less rejecting of their babies than mothers of avoidant babies, but less sensitive to their babies’ signals than mothers of secure babies. While not averse to physical contact with their infants, they also were “inept” (p. 300) and awkward in their ministrations. These mothers appear to have difficulty consistently seeing and knowing “what is going on in there,” and the baby experiences a confusing array of unpredictable caregiving responses.  By the end of the first year, ambivalent infants appear preoccupied with their mother’s whereabouts and, uncertain that their mother will be able to assist in times of discomfort, alarm or fear, are unable to use soothing, even when the mother offers it. They are less likely to explore their world and seem to say “It is hard to let go when I do not know if you will be there when I need you” (Ribaudo, 2016).

    A fourth attachment pattern is labeled disorganized/disoriented. Identified later in attachment research by Main & Solomon (Main & Solomon, 1990), these babies show a collapse of their typical organized strategy (secure, avoidant or ambivalent) when faced with significant distress. Disorganized/disoriented infants are thought to have experienced frightened and/or frightening parental behavior (Lyons-Ruth, 2008) that is sporadic and unpredictable, or parental affective communication that is “disrupted and contradictory” (Lyons-Ruth, 2008, p. 675) such as mocking or teasing when the baby is distressed. When faced with distress, a disorganized baby tends to show contradictory behavior such as approaching a parent with averted head, or walking toward a parent as if to seek comfort but then walking past him or her. Parental withdrawal (directing the infant toward a toy when the baby seeks comfort) and disinterest in the baby (e.g., silent caregiving during daily routines) is a significant risk factor for the development of a disorganized attachment and later psychopathology (Lyons-Ruth et al., 2013). Disorganized attachment ranges from 13 percent in nonclinical samples to 90 percent in samples of maltreated children (Cicchetti, Rogosch, & Toth, 2006; Lyons-Ruth & Jacobvitz, 2008).  Highlighting the intergenerational nature of patterns of relating, disorganized attachment is more prominent in dyads in which the parent has a history of unresolved loss or trauma in his or her own childhood (Hesse & Main, 1999). Duschinsky (2018) recently clarified the range of experience of fear or alarm in the presence of the caregiver, elaborating, for instance, that the caregiver may not be the direct source of harm but may be associated with fear due to being a cue for danger, as in the case of being exposed to parental interpersonal violence.  In instances where the parent is a direct source of fear or threat to the baby, as in maltreatment, the home visitor is likely to experience moments of confusion, despair and helplessness as they watch dyads where the source of comfort (i.e., the parent) is at the same time the source of fear.

    Talk to Me Baby: Communication

    What is an infant trying to communicate through babbling sounds and coos? What does an infant’s extended eye contact with a caregiver reveal about their developing attachment? Infant communication starts at birth, and the ways in which infants and caregivers communicate in the first few months help build the attachment relationship.

    Infants are born with the biological hard wiring for connection and begin to attend to their caregivers at birth. The quiet, alert state of a healthy newborn, who quiets to the voice and touch of the parent, is already engaging in and contributing to communication by virtue of this initial awake state. At two weeks, infants are able to follow their mothers’ gaze to external objects. By weeks seven and eight, infants exhibit social smiling in interactions, sustained eye contact, vocalizations and cooing, lip and tongue movements preparing their mouths for speech, and the ability to explore a communication partner’s face and start to gather and mirror back emotional cues (Lavelli & Fogel, 2013). As infants interact with their mothers in this second month, there is growth in what is sometimes referred to as “mother-infant coregulation processes”: Infants start to engage in short “turn-like dialogues” involving vocalizations and facial expressions like eyebrow raising (Lavelli & Fogel, 2013, p. 2266). These face-to-face interactions can be sustained longer by three to four months when infants develop the ability to engage in ongoing back-and-forth communicative patterns and to smile with full open mouths to display positive emotionality (Beebe & Steele, 2013). Between seven and 11 months, infants start to mimic sounds and behaviors of others, especially their mothers. They can respond to directing and pointing during one-on-one interactions, engage in ongoing babbling, and visually focus on objects or interactions with increased acuity (Dave, Mastergeorge, & Olswang, 2018, citing Albrecht & Miller, 2001).

    Infants have an early ability to both pick up on and reciprocate physical and vocal cues from their mothers, and whether a mother is able to read and respond back to these signals is important for healthy language development and predictive of secure or insecure attachment. Mothers’ positive feedback to infants’ vocal sounds and expressions is largely responsible for developmentally appropriate communicative growth within secure attachments (Lavelli & Fogel, 2013). By two months, infants are less responsive to strangers’ vocalizations and smiles when they differ in affect from those of their mothers, suggesting that infants’ interactions with their mothers shape communication patterns with others (Lavelli & Fogel, 2013, citing Stern, 1974). Infants start to provide more vocal and expressive signals of their emotions at three months through smiles and coos, providing more attuned mothers with increased opportunities to mirror back their cues by smiling back or repeating their sounds. Infants whose mothers can provide this immediate vocal and facial feedback are shown to smile, gaze and coo at their mothers more than infants with less attuned mothers, who may disengage or become distressed when their communication is not reciprocated (Legerstee & Varghese, 2001). Thus, the home visitor or early interventionist is wise to carefully watch for the amount of reciprocity and vocalizations, especially in the fourth month, when we would expect to see increasing vocalizations.

    Mothers’ abilities to follow their infants’ lead and engage in these positive back and forth communicative interactions are a key indicator of maternal sensitivity and the burgeoning stability or instability of the mother-infant attachment (Beebe, et al., 2010). Maternal ability to “stimulate” infants during periods of shared gaze with touch, vocalizations, and expressions and to hold back on stimulation when their babies looked away was positively correlated with secure attachment at 12 months (Beebe & Steele, 2013, p. 590). Likewise, a mother’s tendency to increase stimulation following “negative infant cues” such as breaking eye contact or showing signs of distress, and to withhold interaction when infants gaze and vocalize to them was positively correlated with insecure attachment at 12 months (Beebe & Steele, 2013, p. 590-591). Disorganized attachment at 12 months is, in part, predicted by maternal discordant affect, seen in mothers who display surprise or a smile when their baby shows distress (Beebe & Steele, 2013).

    This reciprocity of vocal and facial expressions between mothers and infants extends beyond the ability to recognize and mirror back the infants’ communicative cues. During moments of mutual gaze, vocalizations, and play, infants and mothers derive a shared sense of each other’s emotions, mental states, and intent. Mothers with secure attachments shape their language and expectations based upon accurate understanding of infants’ abilities to comprehend their words and meaning (Dave, Mastergeorge, & Olswang, 2018). To illustrate this ability to provide responsive and appropriate communication, Dave, Mastergeorge and Olswang provide an example of a mother instructing her infant to “Give me the ball” at seven or 11 months, and the distinction in the appropriateness of this request based upon the infant’s developmental level.

    By the same token, when mothers within insecure attachments are not attuned to their infants’ behaviors and vocalizations and unable to build reciprocity within the relationship, those patterns repeat themselves and limit prelinguistic development through 12 months and beyond. In insecure attachments, inconsistencies and rigidity in exchanges reverse the pattern of communication, with mothers, rather than infants, dictating vocalizations. Again, the infant’s sense of agency and verbal exploration is limited, often leading to the infant’s withdrawal (Lavelli & Fogel, 2013). Additional strain to communicative and linguistic growth can occur when mothers are depressed. Because caregiver communication consists in part of emotional affect and expression, social-emotional engagement is critical to infant-mother interactions. Even as early as the neonatal period, infants with depressed mothers tend to be less responsive to voices and faces (Dave, Mastergeorge, & Olswang, 2018; Field, Diego, & Hernandez-Reif, 2009; Lavelli & Fogel, 2013). Further, four-month-old infants of mothers with lowered responsiveness and emotional affect showed reduced self-contingency (Beebe et al., 2007; Lavelli & Fogel, 2013). Reciprocity between infants and mothers during the first year of life is an important contributor to prelinguistic development, attachment, and emotional development.

    Do You Feel Like I Feel? Emotional Development

    Throughout all the developments in cognitive systems and language, emotions hold the self together … Trevarthen, 2001, p. 114

    How do babies experience emotions? What is present at birth and what is noticed later in infancy? How do parents observe and respond to their babies’ emotions? Does a cry represent a need for comfort or an attempt at manipulation? Is a smile perceived as an invitation to play or a smug taunt? Which emotions get attended to, elaborated, contained or rejected are influenced by parental perception and the budding attachment relationship.

    Babies are born “wired” to experience and express emotions. Recent research has worked to elaborate what is seen on the outside, i.e. expressions, and what is experienced on the inside, i.e. which emotional displays correspond with which regions of the brain (Panksepp & Watt, 2011). It is beyond the scope of this article to review the scientific debate regarding what is universal vs. culture and experience in the development and display of emotions.

    There is general consensus that newborns tend to display three discrete emotions: distress, positive/joy and interest (Rosenblum, Dayton & Muzik, 2019).

    Each of these early primary emotions then evolve into more distinct and elaborated emotions such as anger, sadness, and more robust displays of joy, including laughter. By four months, infants can show anger at having a goal blocked (Izard, 2007) and perhaps even jealousy by six months (Rosenblum, Dayton & Muzik, 2019). It is important to note that emotions connected to self-awareness, such a guilt, shame or pride, are not observed until the second year of life. Awareness of the normative onset of emotions can assist the home visitor to attend to attributions made by the parent that are more likely to be a projection of the parent’s own disavowed emotion than an actual emotion experienced by the infant.

    Rosenblum, Dayton and Muzik (2019) describe children who are well regulated in behavior and emotion as “better able to adapt to contextual and situational changes in the environment in a flexible and spontaneous manner (p. 103).” In infancy, the primary strategies available to babies include avoidance (gaze aversion, postural adjustments), displays of distress (crying), and self-comforting (touching, sucking) (Rosenblum, et al., 2019; Beebe, et al., 2010). Schore (2003) has noted that the caregiver’s capacity to modulate their own emotions, and thus more sensitively respond to their baby, influences the infant’s capacity to share pleasurable states and to find comfort and support that minimizes negative affects.

    There are many pathways by which parental reactions to infant emotions begin to shape the emotional world of the baby, as well as their relationships. One important area we can observe and support is the parental capacity to accurately appraise and mirror back, in a slightly exaggerated fashion, their infant’s emotion (Gergely & Watson, 1996). This “marking” (Gergely & Watson, 1996), even of negative emotions, helps contain the infant’s emotions and assists in the process of an infant beginning to know that their internal state can be “felt” by others. For example, the parent who responds with a “woe face” (Beebe, et al., 2010) to a baby’s distress, saying “Aww, you don’t like that; that made you sad” is communicating to the infant that their internal experience can be shared and comprehended by another, that the internal feeling “looks” like what they see on their parent’s face (i.e., they see a “mirror” of what they are feeling), and that there are words that accompany the experience. This process of marking and containing, done repeatedly in the first years of life, lays the foundation for a child to know their own internal state, find words for them, and thus be able to share them with others, as well as empathize with the internal states of others. In other words,

    a baby whose emotional world has been, for the most part, accurately interpreted and responded to through parental affect, tone of voice and words, is well on their way to being the toddler in the child care center who offers his binkie to a distressed peer or pats a crying baby.

    They are also well on their way to gleefully shouting “Me did it!” and sharing their delight at success with the caregiver, having full confidence in the admiration of the caring adult. Having been seen, known, understood, and accepted, they are on their way to doing so for others.

    The Ants Go Marching: The Journey into Toddlerhood

    By the end of the first year, the neonate has evolved into a fully-fledged human, capable of expressing strong emotions such as love, sadness, fear, jealousy, and anger, and full of their own ideas, thoughts, intentions, wishes and desires. The scientist in the crib (Gopnick, Meltzoff & Kuhl, 1999) has become the scientist in the high chair. Returning to our example, what has become of the neonate whose mother feared she has irreparably harmed him in utero? Has his robustness registered and allowed her to feel reassured? Has her partner or a family member buffered or appeased her worry or have comments only heightened her anxiety? Has she found  the words to share her worry and begun to see him in a different light? Has she developed confidence in her own capacity to help him with any struggles, real or perceived, despite her worries about the toxic exposure? Her resolution to the prenatal anxiety will have shaped his experiences in the first year. What nascent sense of self will accompany him into the journey into toddlerhood?

    References

    Abram, J., & Hinshelwood, R. (2018). The Clinical Paradigms of Melanie Klein and Donald Winnicott. London: Routledge.

    Ainsworth, M.D.S. (1967). Infancy in Uganda: Infant Care and the Growth of Love. Baltimore, MD: The Johns Hopkins Press.

    Ainsworth, M.D.S., Blehar, M.C., Waters, E., Wall, S. (1978). Patterns of Attachment: A Psychological Study of the Strange Situation. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.

    Beebe, B., Jaffe, J., Markese, S.,  Buck, K.,  Chen, H., Cohen, P.,…Feldstein, S. (2010). The origins of 12-month attachment: A microanalysis of 4-month mother–infant interaction. Attachment & Human Development, 12, 3-141.

    Beebe, B., Jaffe, J., Buck, K., Chen, H., Cohen, P. Blatt, S.,…Andrews, H. (2007). Six-week postpartum maternal self-criticism and dependency and 4-Month mother–infant self- and interactive contingencies. Developmental Psychology, 43: 1360–1376 .

    Beebe, B., & Steele, M. (2013). How does microanalysis of mother–infant communication inform maternal sensitivity and infant attachment? Attachment & Human Development, 15, 583–602.

    Bowlby, J. (1988). A Secure Base: Parent-Child Attachment and Healthy Human Development. New York, NY: Basic Books.

    Cicchetti, D., Rogosch, F., & Toth, S. (2006). Fostering secure attachment in infants in maltreating families through preventative interventions. Development and Psychopathology, 18, 623-649.

    Dave, S., Mastergeorge, A. M., & Olswang, L. B. (2018). Motherese, affect, and vocabulary development: dyadic communicative interactions in infants and toddlers. Journal of  Child Language, 45, 917–938.

    Dayton, C.J., Levendosky, A.A., Davidson, W.S., & Bogat, G.A. (2010). The child as held in the mind of the mother: The influence of prenatal maternal representations on parenting behaviors. Infant Mental Health Journal, 31, 220–241.

    DeCasper, A.J., & Spence M.J. (1986). Prenatal maternal speech influences newborns’ perception of speech sounds. Infant Behaviour and Development, 9: 133–150.

    Duschinsky, R. (2018). Disorganization, Fear and Attachment: Working Towards Clarification.

    Infant Mental Health Journal, 39, 17–29.

    Field, T., Diego, M., Hernandez-Reif, M. (2009). Infants of depressed mothers are less responsive to faces and voices: A review. Infant Behavior and Development, 32: 239–244

    Gergely, G & Watson, J. S., (1996). The social biofeedback model of parental affect-mirroring. The International Journal of Psychoanalysis, 76, 1181-1212.

    Gopnik, A., Meltzoff, A. N., & Kuhl, P. K. (1999). The scientist in the crib: Minds, brains, and how children learn. New York: William Morrow & Co.

    Hesse, E., & Main, M. (1999). Second‐generation effects of unresolved trauma in  nonmaltreating parents: Dissociated, frightened, and threatening parental behavior. Psychoanalytic Inquiry, 19, 481–540.

    Izard, C. E., (2007). Basic emotions, natural kinds, emotion schemas, and a new paradigm. Perspectives on Psychological Science, 2, pp. 260-280.

    Izard, C. E. (2009). Emotion theory and research: Highlights, unanswered questions, and emerging issues. Annual Review of Psychology, 60, 1–25.

    Lavelli, M., & Fogel, A. (2013). Interdyad differences in early mother–infant face-to-face communication: Real-time dynamics and developmental pathways. Developmental Psychology, 49, 2257–2271.

    Legerstee, M., & Varghese, J. (2001). The Role of Maternal Affect Mirroring on Social Expectancies in Three-Month-Old Infants. Child Development, 72, 1301–1313.

    Lyons-Ruth, K., & Jacobvitz, D. (2008). Attachment disorganization: Genetic factors, parenting contexts, and developmental transformation from infancy to adulthood. In J. Cassidy & P. R. Shaver (Eds.), Handbook of attachment: Theory, research, and clinical applications (pp. 666-697). New York, NY: Guilford Press.

    Lyons-Ruth, K., Bureau, J.F., Easterbrooks, M.A., Obsuth, I., Hennighausen, K., & Vulliez-Coady, L. (2013). Parsing the construct of maternal insensitivity: Distinct longitudinal pathways associated with early maternal withdrawal. Attachment & Human Development, 15, 562-582.

    Main, M., & Solomon, J. (1990). Procedures for identifying infants as disorganized/disoriented during the Ainsworth Strange Situation. In M.T. Greenberg, D. Cicchetti, & E.M. Cummings (Eds.), The John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation series on mental health and development. Attachment in the preschool years: Theory, research, and intervention (pp. 121-160). Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press.

    Marlier L., Schaal B., Soussignan R. (1998). Neonatal responsiveness to the odor of amniotic and lacteal fluids: A test of perinatal chemosensory continuity. Child Development 69: 611–23.

    Panksepp, J., & Watt, D. (2011). What is basic about basic emotions? Lasting lessons from affective neuroscience. Emotion Review, 3, 387–396.

    Ribaudo, J. (2016). Restoring safety: An attachment-based approach to clinical work with a traumatized toddler. Infant Mental Health Journal, 37, 80–92.

    Rosenblum, K.L., Dayton, C.J., & Muzik, M. (2019). Infant social and emotional development: Emerging competence in a relational context. In C.H. Zeanah (Ed.), Handbook of Infant Mental Health (4th ed., pp. 95-119). New York, NY: Guilford Press.

    Sameroff, A.J. (2010). A Unified Theory of Development: A Dialectic Integration of Nature and Nurture.  Child Development, 81, pp. 6-22.

    Sameroff,  A.J. & MacKenzie, M. J. (2003). A quarter-century of the transactional model: How have things changed? Zero to Three, 24, 14-22.

    Schore, A.N. (2003). Affect dysregulation and disorders of the self. New York, NY: Norton.

    Schore, A. N. (2005). Attachment, affect regulation, and the developing right brain: Linking developmental neuroscience to pediatrics. Pediatrics in Review, 26, 204-217.

    Sroufe, L.A., Egeland, B., Carlson, E.A., & Collins, W. A., (2005). The development of the  person: The Minnesota study of risk and adaptation from birth to adulthood. New York, NY: Guilford Press.

    Sroufe, L. A., Coffino, B., Carlson, E.A. (2010). Conceptualizing the role of early experience: Lessons from the Minnesota longitudinal study. Developmental Review, 30, 36-51.

    Stern, N. B. (1999). Motherhood: The emotional awakening. Journal of Pediatric Health Care, 13, 8-12.

    Trevarthen, C. (2001). Intrinsic motives for companionship in understanding: Their origin, development, and significance for infant mental health. Infant Mental Health Journal, 22, 95–131.

    Trout, M. (2018). What is going on in there? Infant Crier, Fall 2018. Michigan Association for Infant Mental Health

    Vreeswijk, C.M.J.M., Maas, A.J.B.M., & Van Bakel, H.J.A. (2012). Parental representations: A systematic review of the Working Model of the Child Interview. Infant Mental Health Journal, 33, 314– 328.

    Winnicott, D.W. (1960). The theory of the parent-infant relationship. International Journal of Psychoanalysis, 41, 585-595.