Chalk Dust: The Aesthetics of Belonging

The morning began before the heat had settled in. Bird song and blue sky. The Robins class settled into their morning rituals on the playground, friendship clusters weaving around the climbing logs, sandbox and water spigot. Bikers zooming up and down the hill and a joyful buzz in the beginning of the day.

One of our Robin newcomers, Y, observed the now familiar patterns of play and ideas as they unfolded.

She sat on the climbing logs with a tin full of chalk and a metal screen: one of our loose parts with many open ended uses, but for the last few weeks its use has been clear: grater. Another new child, J, looked on curiously at the objects in her hands. I notice his line of sight and give him a way in " J, did you know that Y is a chalk expert? She can do something really cool with the chalk and those metal screens, Y can you show us what you do with those materials?" I am trying out one of my roles as the adult when supporting new children transitioning into the community: relationship building. Building up children's confidence during times when they feel like the new one and weaving children together, helps them forge new relationships to build on in the upcoming year.

We gather a metal bowl from the sandbox and place the grate over the top. Y rubs the piece of pink chalk and it dusts a fine layer of powder into the bowl. J looks on, entranced. I show him where the other pieces of chalk are and he selects a small orange piece. Other children notice our shared attention and come by to see. Several choose pieces of chalk from the shelf and one by one, they grate their sticks, piling up colorful dust into the metal bowls now littering the outdoor exploration table. As each child joined, I invited them to ask Y how to do it, giving her an opportunity to be the knowledgeable one, the mentor, the expert, in this new community of peers.

“It is not enough for the teacher to see the child as a subject of rights, capable of learning and of being the protagonist of their own growth. The teacher must also see themselves as a subject capable of being transformed by the child.”— Carlina Rinaldi

I stood watching the children's shared efforts and joy, this was satisfying work. I noticed the bubble of confidence in Y as she saw so many join in the activity she began and wondered about that feeling of newness.

How do we as humans shape our sense of self in context with others, seeing both our own value and that of others?

For children, preschool is often the first opportunity to be a part of a community of peers, where their own thoughts, ideas and needs are in balance with those of others. They learn to collaborate, negotiate and advocate for themselves and others, ultimately sorting out how powerful being a part of a community can be.

It is a foundational time for building identity. When young 3-year-olds join our mixed-age preschool rooms, their understanding of the world is still deeply rooted in their own lived experiences. Early group settings can offer a powerful shift, helping children begin to grasp that every person they meet may have different ideas, opinions, temperaments, families, and ways of thinking and knowing. The Reggio approach is deeply rooted in constructivist theory; the understanding that children don’t simply receive knowledge, but actively construct it. They build meaning by connecting new experiences to what they already know, and they do this best in relationship with others. In this view, learning is not a solo pursuit, but a shared process where ideas are built, tested, reshaped, and expanded through dialogue, collaboration, and interaction. As constructivist thinker Lev Vygotsky puts it, “Through others, we become ourselves.” 

As I reflected on this during the children's play, I noticed an aesthetic representation of this idea, of being a part of a group, without losing your identity to the group. seeing the beauty of each unique voice in the chorus of many.

“Look,” I called out gently, not wanting to break the spell of the satisfaction of hard work and the buzz of chatter, but wanting to share my reflections with this group of thinkers. “Y’s pink, J’s orange, B’s blue, and T’s yellow, I can see where each person shared their color. It's so beautiful! If it only had one person's color, it wouldn't look as lovely as this.” The children agreed and started to plan how they would add their chosen color to the several collaborative bowls filling up with dust.

What began as relationship building: linking two new students together in a peaceful sensory experience, became something more, a visual representation of what it means to belong. They saw all of these layers of chalk not as mine or yours but as ours. They pointed to the colors, recalling who chose what, and inviting them to add more of their color if it was getting buried by the others. The beauty came from all of the children working together, adding their individual efforts to the collaborative.

Each child’s contribution, like each chalk color, is a reminder that belonging doesn’t mean blending in. It means being seen, and choosing to see each other, too. As a teacher it is a powerful reminder to find ways to reflect this back to the children, give them many powerful examples of how to find value in the hundred, hundred ways each of us are unique and different.

In our Reggio-inspired philosophy, we often focus our attention on ways that we can help the children see the power of working together as a team, learning from others to realize that the lines of us vs. them, you vs. me, are really not there at all. All of us are... us.