I spend quite a bit of time cleaning the center. No matter how often things are cleaned, there is always a toy that has gotten dirty, a window that has fingerprints, or a corner that has a cobweb. I realize that as a director I should be directing others to clean, but I enjoy cleaning when I have time. It relaxes me, and I enjoy the feeling of accomplishment that having a clean area gives.
Today I decided to tackle the blocks in the schooler room. There were many blocks, almost too many for the shelves that held them, and the poor storage space made the children less likely to pull them out and build. My original mission was to clean them, sort them, and store them so that they were more attractive to the children and more likely to be used. As with many things, my mission changed when I began to work on the blocks.
As I cleaned and sorted the blocks, I discovered that many of them had developed rough places and splinters (I even got a few splinters from them). Many of them could only be saved by a major sanding job. Looking at the number of blocks that were worn, and the number that were left, I concluded that the best thing to do would be to discard the blocks that were in poor condition.
Now, I am not a hoarder. I enjoy cleaning and have no patience with things that have been sitting, covered in dust, for several years because "someone may need them sometime". If an item has no use, does not meet best practice requirements, or is broken - out it goes. It did pain me, however, to throw out the blocks. I love blocks - I love the feel of the wood, I love the way that the unit blocks fit with each other, and I love the things that can be built. It was with a very heavy heart and a strong feeling of guilt that I piled the blocks on the cart to go to the dumpster.
As I was grieving over the loss of the blocks, it occurred to me that the center has been open for forty years and some of those blocks had probably been here for most of those years. The blocks were in rough shape because they had been loved and used by years of children. The blocks had been castles, zoos, houses, roads, and buildings. The blocks had been laid out on the floor so that the children could push cars or walk on the road. The blocks had been towers that were so high that when they fell there was a loud (and satisfying) crash. The blocks were not just junk, they were an important part of the lives of many children. It was suddenly easier to let the blocks go when I thought of all of the fun and learning that the children had derived from playing with them.
I still feel that an early childhood program can never have too many blocks, but I have discovered that since the area is more organized and the children are not concerned about splinters, they are building again. Perhaps in another forty years another director will have to clean out the blocks, but I am enjoying them now.
As I cleaned and sorted the blocks, I discovered that many of them had developed rough places and splinters (I even got a few splinters from them). Many of them could only be saved by a major sanding job. Looking at the number of blocks that were worn, and the number that were left, I concluded that the best thing to do would be to discard the blocks that were in poor condition.
Now, I am not a hoarder. I enjoy cleaning and have no patience with things that have been sitting, covered in dust, for several years because "someone may need them sometime". If an item has no use, does not meet best practice requirements, or is broken - out it goes. It did pain me, however, to throw out the blocks. I love blocks - I love the feel of the wood, I love the way that the unit blocks fit with each other, and I love the things that can be built. It was with a very heavy heart and a strong feeling of guilt that I piled the blocks on the cart to go to the dumpster.
As I was grieving over the loss of the blocks, it occurred to me that the center has been open for forty years and some of those blocks had probably been here for most of those years. The blocks were in rough shape because they had been loved and used by years of children. The blocks had been castles, zoos, houses, roads, and buildings. The blocks had been laid out on the floor so that the children could push cars or walk on the road. The blocks had been towers that were so high that when they fell there was a loud (and satisfying) crash. The blocks were not just junk, they were an important part of the lives of many children. It was suddenly easier to let the blocks go when I thought of all of the fun and learning that the children had derived from playing with them.
I still feel that an early childhood program can never have too many blocks, but I have discovered that since the area is more organized and the children are not concerned about splinters, they are building again. Perhaps in another forty years another director will have to clean out the blocks, but I am enjoying them now.
