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As an infant advocate over several decades, I have witnessed many changes in attitudes towards infant care in general and towards group care in particular. Until recently, the care of infants in this country has largely been the concern of the family and the family physician. Only in the last decade or two has the need for providing alternative care become increasingly apparent. In the fifties group care of infants was non-existent and looked upon as potentially harmful. In the sixties, the pros and cons of group care was debated in an emotionally loaded atmosphere. In the seventies an increasing number of infants spent six, eight, or more hours each weekday in group care. State and federal regulations, even when met, do not insure that the infants' needs are met, too. In my work of consulting with a great variety of centers, I have found that while the people in charge of infant centers usually are well-meaning, child-loving people who want to do a decent job, this rarely is possible because of the low pay and status of the infant care-giver, poor, if any, pre and inservice training, very few model centers, inadequate facilities, constant change in personnel, and so forth. Can any center meet the needs of infants under such difficult conditions? What are the infants' needs, beyond those for food, rest, warmth and hygiene? Most people would respond with the following: love, as demonstrated by rocking, fondling and body contact;- and cognitive stimulation as demonstrated by an abundance of objects, teaching materials and lesson plans. These needs have become largely accepted and most centers try to meet them in different ways. We who follow the R.I.E. philosophy have our own ways of meeting infants' needs. R.I.E. seeks to attain a balance between adult stimulation and independent exploration by the infant. We focus on two areas of the infant's life: the time spent with the adult who cares for the infant and the time the infant spends alone freely exploring his environment. Only a child who receives undivided attention from his educarer during all routine care-giving activities will be free and interested to explore his environment without needing too much intervention of the educarer. If the educarer understands that the infant needs both concentrated attention while being cared for and time to explore alone, she (he) also gains time for herself (himself). In order to highlight the differences between the attitude of a good average care-giver and a trained educarer I will compare and contrast the two:
All of these examples try to ' illustrate that while both the care-giver and the educarer love the infant, the educarer demonstrates love by showing and teaching respect.
Magda Gerber is the Director of Resources for Infant Educarers.
DID YOU READ IT? by Magda Gerber I would have liked all of you R.I.E. members and friends to have shared with me the joy of opening the nearly 400 letters of parents from all over the U.S. in response to the Parents Magazine article, "The Pikler Method: A New Way to Raise a Happier Baby," written by Phyllis La Farge. The article, which appeared in the December 1979 issue, attracted parents who wanted more information and almost all of them expressed enthusiasm for this special way of caring for babies. They requested help and guidelines to apply it in their daily living with their babies. Some seemed to realize, after reading the article, how many "mistakes" they made and wanted to know how to change and begin the "new way." I was most impressed by the great number of expectant couples who wished to learn as much as possible in preparation for the arrival of their infants. How difficult it was for me not to answer each letter individually and to disappoint mothers who asked for classes, home visits, and so forth! On the other hand, getting in touch with parents and their needs gives me the strength to work hard to meet R.I.E.'s goal to provide services to parents and professionals throughout the country. A POCKETFUL OF R.I.E. by Noreen Winkler "Quality time" has become a common phrase in child development circles. However, its usage rarely reflects the interpretation given in the R.I.E. philosophy. Several writers in this issue discuss the quality of care for infants. Their comments spin in my head, challenging me to review the level of quality in my care for Erin, now seventeen months. "Quality" was imprinted on my mind when we planned her conception and birth, and remains with me daily. During pregnancy I read Right From the Start by Selma Greenberg who urges mothers with infants to avoid isolation in the immediate months after birth by going for walks, seeing people, and generally enjoying one another, even if it means that things such as dishes, beds and laundry are left in a mess at home. She stressed, and I heartily agree, that the child won't remember what the house looked like, but will experience, for a long time hence, the quality of times spent with you. She won't remember that the dishes weren't done or that there was always a heap of diapers to be folded or that the mess she made in the kitchen, bedroom or wherever didn't get picked up right away. She will benefit by the extra quality times you had together which sometimes took the place of all those other chores. In response to Selma Greenberg's book, I began to consider the quality of our time together, hoping that outside observers would also be more interested in Erin's physical, psychological and social development, and mine as a new mother, rather than noticing if our floors were clean, our clothes ironed and our meals elaborately prepared. Further, I have always tried to avoid describing Erin's development in terms of achievements such as the month at which she took her first solid food, the first time she sat up, and the appearance of her first tooth. I found it far more important to be asked if she was happy, healthy and generally content with life. Now that Erin is seventeen months old, I can perceive her development with the wider vision of an experienced mother. At fourteen months she began to attend the Santa Cruz Toddler Care Center for four afternoons per week. Although we frequently meet people who are horrified by this fact, Erin, her father and I have nothing but pleasant and satisfied feelings about Erin's experience in group care. The key to this experience is that quality is foremost in the minds of the educarers who staff the Center. Because I had worked there previously as an educarer, I fully trusted the Staff and expected that Erin would not experience a difficult adjustment to group care. We have enjoyed sharing her with other carers whose interest in children and whose ways of being with children are very similar to our own. Erin has always been given choices at home, as she is given them at the Center. She is accustomed to verbal and nonverbal communication and to being a participant in one-to-one interactions. In these two settings, our home and the Center, Erin receives both the "wants something" and "wants nothing" quality time which Magda often speaks of. As parents, we are confident as well as eager to have Erin spend a few hours per week in this setting. While Erin is at the Center, I have some time to respond to interests and concerns that are always with me. Especially in these trying times, I feel it is essential for me to respond to world events even if my contribution is small and limited. I find it difficult to nurture Erin and look toward her future without also doing something to insure that her possibility for a future does indeed exist. I also use this time to begin and complete projects which give me a feeling of accomplishment and creativity, such as baking bread, designing an outdoor play area, and editing this newsletter. Completing only the routine tasks of homemaking, such as laundry, dishwashing, and housecleaning can, for me, become very tedious and unrewarding after awhile. In addition, Erin's father, who has an eight-to-five job, has found it possible to take some time off every Friday to have lunch with me while Erin is at the Center. Our time alone together, as any parent knows, is usually limited to very few hours in the week and we depend upon this special time to catch up on one another's lives. The quality of time we spend with Erin has been greatly enhanced by the fact that we have found time to take care of our other needs. When we are at home with Erin, we try to really be there. She finds time to be alone and time to be with each or both of us. As Magda teaches, our "wants something" quality time is when we have a goal to accomplish something together, such as dressing, bathing, feeding, etc. While Thom and I both participate in feeding and dressing Erin, his current specialty is bathing her while mine is nursing. However, we are approaching a change here, as Erin is beginning to wean. Both of us also spend a lot of "wants nothing" quality time with Erin. This is time Magda describes as when the parent isn't teaching anything, doesn't want to do anything with the child, has no plans other than wanting to simply be with the child. Just floor sitting, being available, being there with all the senses awakened to the child; watching, listening, thinking of only that child. At the Center it is this kind of time which is hardest for carers to learn or parents to appreciate. We adults are so used to being doers and initiators. Infants and toddlers, however, really appreciate our being there, observant and receptive, but not demanding or disruptive. A good carer knows how much energy this takes. |
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