Education that embraces limitless opportunities

In Norway, child care programs encourage kids to roam and make independent choices. The model may hold lessons for American schools.

Toddlers in a day care at Premont Collegiate High School are part of a program called Baby University in Premont, Texas, Feb. 23, 2023.

Melanie Stetson Freeman/Staff/File

October 15, 2024

Back in my teaching days, while I was preparing to move from one preschool to another, the director of the school I was leaving asked me what I noticed when I went to visit my new program. The answer came to me right away. “The kids were all barefoot,” I said.

The teachers around me looked baffled, particularly those who worked with me in the toddler room. After all, we spent a significant chunk of each day trying to coerce our young charges to keep their shoes on, a rule designed to prevent injury.

When I got to my new school, a cooperative that subscribed to a more child-directed approach, I realized I had a lot of learning to do. Many of the rules that I had long enforced at other schools became more flexible. Want to run inside and climb on furniture? No problem – we have a climbing room full of carpeted tunnels, ramps, and ladders, so you can do just that. Want to summit a slide like a mountain? Let me spot you from the side. Getting bored with the same old playground toys? Let’s head to the woods nearby to enjoy an endless supply of rocks, sticks, and leaves.

In Norway, having a joyful, secure childhood is a right enshrined into law

To my surprise, injuries didn’t seem to be more frequent. Over time, I came to appreciate this program’s philosophy and learned to trust that kids could be safe while exploring freely. I started to think differently about my own role. My job wasn’t solely to shield my students from harm; it was also to help them navigate challenging situations.

I was reminded of that lesson as I read this week’s cover story by Jackie Mader of The Hechinger Report, a nonprofit independent news organization focused on inequality and innovation in education.

Jackie’s story takes us to Norway, where young children of all ages are free to engage in any number of activities that would send a helicopter parent spinning out. For one thing, children in Norwegian kindergartens spend 70% of their time outdoors – no matter the weather. They might learn to swim and ski, and even to whittle a stick and build a fire. There are plenty of teachers on hand to guide children through these activities, thanks to the low student-to-teacher ratio mandated by national law. But overall, the goal is to offer children limitless opportunities.

That pursuit is part of a broader national promise: a cohesive society that embraces everyone. And the first step in that effort is enabling “childhoods that are joyful, secure, and inclusive,” writes Jackie. The Norwegians see this philosophy as a long-term investment in community.

That idea certainly meshes with the focus on social and emotional development found in American child care programs. But it takes it one step further, from raising well-adjusted individuals to fostering a cohesive community. It might seem that many aspects of Norway’s approach to early childhood learning would be difficult to implement in the United States, given some of the current impasses around education. But if we keep an open mind, Norway might just hold lessons for us all.