Abstract
Here in the USA, we are, at the time of writing, gearing up for another presidential election, so it is perhaps not surprising that I have been thinking a lot lately about the concept of “world view.” Whether you use this exact term or some other phrase, I refer to those internal constructs which influence many of our perceptions and beliefs about a wide variety of topics. Suffice it to say that the USA has no shortage of wildly varying world views, especially when it comes to hot-button topics such as guns, the death penalty, abortion, immigration, and same-sex marriage.
Another notable example of our national lack of a uniform world view is the topic of early care and education (ECE) for children not yet in kindergarten. For example, the most recent Democratic Party Platform (Democratic National Committee, 2012) mentions “early learning” four times, and in the context of raising standards and improving instruction, Promise Neighborhoods, Head Start, and closing the achievement gap. Conversely, the Republican Party Platform (Republican National Committee, 2012) does not mention “early learning” at all, but does emphasize—and at least a dozen times—personal responsibility and decision-making, the “quiet pride of working hard,” and self-reliance. Outside of political platforms, we have not reached consensus about minimum ECE teacher qualifications, the criteria for enrollment in publicly funded ECE programs, and whether high-quality practice should encompass intrinsically motivated play and peer interactions and learning standards, early academic instruction, and ongoing assessment. When you add into the mix the increasingly multicultural nature of our ECE classrooms and schools, and varying ideologies about instruction for children with non-English home languages, it is easy to understand why our respective world views on ECE might be “all over the map,” so to speak, as well.
I raise the issue of world view as all of these differing perceptions and beliefs form the backdrop to Squandering America’s Future: Why ECE Policy Matters for Equality, Our Economy, and Our Children. Written by blogger, former journalist, and ECE consultant Susan Ochshorn, the book highlights promising ECE programs, behind-the-scenes advocates, relevant theoretical frameworks, and some select statistics to provide a context for understanding the current ECE policy milieu. In addition, the text is written in a breezy, conversational style, and with lots of catchy phrasing (e.g. “In the Quicksand of Expectations”) and references to everything from Greek mythology to Shakespeare and the Bible, as well as popular culture (e.g. “The Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval”)—and there are just six chapters. As such, it should be a relatively easy read, even if one’s background is outside of early childhood specifically or education more generally.
Ochshorn also uses this approach to make her world view on ECE quite clear. Simply put, she not only argues for the need for increased public support for ECE and other family-friendly policies, but also takes aim at the academic focus of many publicly funded preschool programs and calls for a return to a more traditional view of developmentally appropriate practice. As a result, if Rufus Miles (1978) was correct about one’s stand being dependent on where one sits, I suspect that most readers’ initial reaction to this book will be love, hate, or a combination of both extremes—that is, given the widely diverging world views on ECE in the USA, some will find this book to be a wonderful “preaching to the choir” confirmation of all the ways in which current ECE policy and practice falls short. Conversely, others will find the book to be another example of why the USA would be better off if our policies stressed personal responsibility and self-reliance over what some perceive to be social welfare programs. And, there likely will be some “in-betweeners” who applaud the focus on improved ECE policy, yet also wish the book had less catchy phrasing and more data on the effects on different groups of young children of the different interventions mentioned, as well as the role that standards, intentional instruction, and ongoing assessment can play in reducing achievement disparities. In short, no matter where on the ECE world-view spectrum you find yourself, the book may merely serve to confirm what you were thinking all along.
Because of the book’s focus on ECE policies and programs, it could be useful as part of undergraduate or graduate coursework designed to introduce students to the current issues facing the early childhood field. However, its real value may be Ochshorn’s contention that the current state of US ECE policies will negatively impact the country’s long-term human capital and thus capacity to compete effectively in the global economy—that is, no matter if one perceives young children’s development and learning to be a personal or public responsibility, if our K–12 students are not able to take full advantage of their educational opportunities, the country as a whole will pay the price in the long term. Such an argument is a useful example of how message-framing can be used to find a “sweet spot” among competing world views and, in so doing, politically advance an otherwise contentious topic that also might be resistant to policy change. As such, the book will be a complementary read to previous works examining the role of message-framing and timing in advancing specific ECE policy approaches (e.g. Bushouse, 2009; Fuller, 2008; Kirp, 2007).
As is the case with other books on this topic, Squandering America’s Future raises many interesting questions about the direction ECE policy should take. While it is unclear to what extent it will be a focus of the next US president’s policy agenda—not to mention whether the country will ever achieve consensus on key ECE programmatic inputs—kudos to Ochshorn for reminding us why this topic matters and deserves continued debate.