Teach Like A Hummingbird (Not a Helicopter)

A helicopter teacher (like a helicopter parent) is a LOUD presence in the environment. You can’t miss it. It is the focal point, and whatever the teacher says, goes. It’s all about the teacher in the room and not the children. This lends itself to developmentally inappropriate practice. A hummingbird teacher floats in quietly when needed and floats out just as quickly, being sure not to interrupt or change a child’s play. The hummingbird teacher notices when voices become elevated and flutters in closer to see if they are needed. If so, they gently help with problem‐solving and then flutter out. The hummingbird teacher provides information when a child wonders about something and asks questions. A hummingbird teacher observes to find out what the children are curious about and then finds opportunities to extend this inquiry. A hummingbird teacher is sneaky and plans out the environment in ways that make children want to find out more or solve problems they happen upon.

One day, when I was hummingbirding about in the indoor classroom, I observed some children throwing bean bags at each other. This was something that could potentially hurt someone so I set up a basket by our back door in a little hallway and told the children they could throw bean bags by the backdoor and challenged them to get the bean bags in the basket from a few feet away. They went about their business and a few minutes later called me over. One of the bean bags got tossed so high that it was now on top of the door opening/closing mechanism.

They had thrown a second bean bag up there to try to knock the other one down, but it got stuck too. They asked if I could get the bean bags down, but being a program that is child‐centered and encourages learning through trial and error, I asked if they could think of some ways to get them down by saying, “I wonder if you can think of some ways to reach them?” They looked around a bit and one of them suggested they could try standing on a chair to reach them. They moved a little child‐sized chair over and one of them got up on the chair. No luck—they weren’t tall enough. Another child suggested they get a table to put the chair on to get the bean bags. They worked together to haul a small table over, stacked the chair on top, and crawled up. Still not tall enough. “Do we have a ladder?” asked one of the children. “My great‐grandpa has a grabber that he uses to get things off the floor so he doesn’t have to bend over. I bet that would work.” “Maybe a teacher that has longer arms could get on the table and get it.” These are problem‐solving skills at work here! Eventually, they settled on finding a child that was taller than them to get up on the chair‐table contraption to reach the bean bags. I could have stepped in and offered assistance. I could have stopped the chair‐on‐a‐table situation because of safety concerns.

But, I know that the best learning happens through failure. I also knew they weren’t in danger because “hummingbird me” was right in there with them, quietly observing and encouraging. I wanted them to find failure in order for the learning to be more “sticky.” In my helicopter teacher days, I would have told the children how to get them down or even just grabbed the bean bags for them. And, just like a helicopter, this blows over the potential for learning. Phrases like “I wonder...” or “What do you think?” are hummingbird teacher questions. In their quiet presence, a hummingbird teacher gives children more to wonder about, more to inquire about, and more to be curious about!

What if I told you that people are completely capable of constructing their own learning? What if I told you that children in groups with varied knowledge and abilities can co‐construct learning together? What if I told you that adults aren’t necessary all the time for learning to happen? All of these are true. I came across an experiment done over the course of 20+ years by Sugata Mitra. The experiment is known as The Hole in the Wall Experiment. This experiment started in the late 1990s and revolutionized adults’ understanding of children’s learning capabilities. Mitra placed computers in public spaces where there were children who didn’t go to school and had never seen a computer before. Mitra found that children, left to learn and explore on their own, could learn amazingly well without direct adult instruction. He also found that children have innate curiosity and the ability to self‐organize in learning environments.

Through collaboration and exploration with other children, they picked up on basic computer literacy skills, navigated educational software, and even did research on various topics using the Internet. This experiment showed us that if children are given access to resources and opportunities, they are fully capable of learning autonomously. Of course, this challenges traditional education that relies heavily on adult‐led instruction (Mitra, 2021). A study by Stipek et al. in 1995 had 227 children participate from 32 preschool and Kindergarten classrooms. The research showed evidence that didactic programs (teacher‐directed instruction) provided children with gains over child‐centered programs in reading but not in math. The authors found that those gains were outnumbered by many drawbacks of didactic instruction including lower confidence, lower motivation, and higher dependence on adults.

In educational contexts that allowed children considerable freedom to initiate tasks and complete them without pressure to conform to a particular model or to get right answers, children selected more challenging tasks, were less dependent on an adult for approval, and evidenced more pride in their accomplishment. [...] Didactic instruction is presumed by many experts to inhibit intellectual development directly—by fostering superficial learning of simple responses rather than real understanding and problem‐solving ability—and indirectly, by negatively affecting social‐motivational variables which, in turn, affect learning‐related behavior (e.g., effort, persistence). For example, experts have argued that didactic, teacher‐controlled instruction that emphasizes performance undermines young children’s intrinsic interest in learning (Katz, 1988), their perceptions of competence (Kamii, 1985; Katz, 1988), and their willingness to take academic risks (Elkind, 1987).

When kids have the freedom to choose what they learn, and how they learn it, they tend to tackle more challenging tasks and feel prouder of their accomplishments. On the flip side, rigid instruction that focuses on performance can stifle kids’ natural curiosity and willingness to take on new challenges. Teachers need to set the stage and then get out of the way.

BUT Kristen, Vygotsky has clearly found that scaffolding is necessary for children to learn. How does this work if the teacher doesn’t directly teach things?

This is where things CAN get a bit tricky. Yes, we know that children learn through scaffolding, which is when a more knowledgeable person (like a teacher) provides guidance and assistance to a learner until they can master a task independently. If a child asks you to teach them how to tie a shoe, you will help them tie a shoe. If a child asks you to help them zip a coat, you teach them how to get the “car in the garage.” However, if a child repeatedly asks me to do everything for them, I may see if they can do it on their own. This is where it is SO important to have relationships with each of the children. By knowing their nuances, developmental stage, their likes and dislikes, you will be better able to scaffold their learning when the time is right! We CAN teach things, but in a child‐led program the teaching is organic and based on the needs and interests of the children while in play. The teaching will change every day based on the direction the play takes.

From I’m Not Getting Them Ready for Kindergarten: Breaking Tradition in Early Childhood Education by Kristen Day. © 2025 Routledge/Taylor & Francis Inc. Reproduced with permission of the publisher. All rights reserved.