Abstract
Using participatory observations accompanied by video and audio recordings, this article investigates how negotiations about play scripts evolve during play in two Waldorf kindergartens. In particular, this study aims to examine how child-initiated play can contribute to the development of basic democratic skills in early childhood. The concept of resistance proposed by Gert Biesta has been a theoretical starting point for analysis. Hence, this article investigates how and what kinds of resistance are offered through play negotiations with unprocessed, open-ended play materials typical of Waldorf kindergartens. The analysis reveals that resistance is offered by the play materials, previous play scripts, and play partners. In addition, open-ended play materials seemed to add more complexity to negotiations than industrially processed toys. Consequently, the risk of failure in such negotiations becomes more intrusive.
Introduction
Early childhood educators worldwide are expected to work toward children’s democratic citizenship. For tasks like this, novel and promising programs based on teacher-driven processes are often proposed (Pettersvold and Østrem, 2019). What if already well-established child-driven activities like play can do the trick? In this article, I investigate how self-regulated play in early childhood education (ECE) using unprocessed open-ended materials can contribute to basic experiences of democracy and citizenship. This investigation is based on participatory observations in two Norwegian Waldorf kindergartens. 1
What democracy and citizenship imply is primarily based on the ideas of Gert Biesta, who is known for reframing Hannah Arendt’s political thinking in an educational setting. In her book “Human Condition,” Arendt reflects on what it means to be a political actor in a democracy, stating that a political actor “. . . is never merely a ‘doer’ but always and at the same time a sufferer” (Arendt, 1998: 190). The notion of “suffering” is explored further by Biesta (2015) in his use of the word “resistance,” stating that “the experience of resistance is of fundamental importance as it shows us that the world ‘out there’ is not of our own making [. . .] but has an existence and integrity of its own” (p. 32). Thus, encountering resistance is an important part of being a responsible participant in democratic communities.
In ECE institutions, playing entails numerous possibilities of suffering and resistance, both between children due to their different ideas about the play script and between children and their physical environments, especially toys and play materials. All play materials require negotiations in relation to how they are scripted during play. My preliminary assumption is that open-ended materials, as preferred in a Waldorf classroom, will require negotiation and hence offer resistance to a greater extent than industrially processed toys (i.e. already scripted play materials). Thus, the research question in this inquiry is: How are unscripted play materials in ECE institutions negotiated, and how can such negotiations offer resistance to children? Consequently, I investigated how self-regulated play can contribute to essential democratic skills in a child’s development and how Waldorf schooling can serve as an exemplary case in this matter.
Theoretical framework
The choice of resistance as a key concept is based on Biesta’s reading of Arendt and her theory of democracy (Biesta, 2015). According to this theory, my existence as a political being requires that someone reacts and responds to my actions; at the same time, allowing others to act back to me is a condition for letting others become political beings as well (Arendt, 1998). Consequently, “we have to live with the frustration that what others do with our initiative is beyond our control” (Biesta, 2015: 29)—a fact that young children frequently experience in peer groups.
For Biesta, when resistance is encountered, one needs to balance between two extremes. On the one hand, a person can risk destroying a phenomenon that offers resistance. On the other hand, this person can allow the resisting phenomenon to destroy one’s self. The aim is to stay on the difficult middle ground between the two extremes of world-destruction and self-destruction and to keep the dialog open (Biesta, 2021). According to Biesta (2015), “Dialogue is an ongoing difficult challenge not to walk away from what offers resistance, but to come to terms with it, that is to work though the problem, rather than dissolve it, destroy it or walk away from it” (p. 33). I consider the play negotiations I have observed in this study to be stunning examples of the difficulties involved in keeping the dialog open.
In ECE institutions, play is not a friction-free flow between children and their environments but a space where interruptions and disturbances frequently occur and where negotiations in different forms are required (Alvestad, 2010). Hence, the entanglement between living and nonliving actors in a play environment is often quite messy, conflicting, and inconsistent. This is why Biesta’s concept of resistance is suitable for this study.
I also use the concept of play scripts in this work. Scripts are recognizable and predictable sequences of events, according to which participants must adjust their actions (Gulløv, 1999; Nelson and Nelson, 1985). Such scripts are often predefined and clear for all participants, either based on previous events or traditions in the group or based on mutual agreements between the players ahead of playing. However, scripts can also be open and negotiable during the cause of the event. Furthermore, I use the concept of affordance to shed light on how play materials inflict the negotiation of play scripts. Affordance has been explained as “whatever it is about the environment that contributes to the kind of interaction that occurs” or “constraints to which the agent is attuned” (Greeno, 1994: 336, 338). Hence, when it comes to the negotiation of play scripts, the resistance (or constraints) offered by the nonliving environment should also be considered.
I find the term free play inexpedient for describing play in ECE groups. Play is not free, and it is not disconnected from discourses and cultural norms (Wood, 2014). Thus, I would rather refer to play activities as episodes of self-regulated play, as opposed to guided play. Guided play is playing instructed or initiated by teachers and often aims at playful learning (Weisberg et al., 2013). In comparison, self-regulated play involves activities initiated and governed by the children themselves.
Why this study should be conducted in a Waldorf classroom
Waldorf kindergartens and Waldorf schools, which originated in Germany in the 1920s, were initiated by Rudolf Steiner as part of the multifaceted reform–pedagogical movement at the time (Dahlin, 2017). Waldorf kindergartens have, as one of their main features, a great emphasis on self-regulated, undisturbed play. Play is considered a sacred place that fosters what Waldorf teachers call children’s dream consciousness (Attfield, 2022). According to Steiner’s ideas on human development, a child before the age of seven is not yet awakened to a linear cognitive perception of the world. Therefore, for the sake of children’s health and well-being, this dream-like consciousness should not be disturbed until they are around seven and are capable of “waking up” by themselves. Hence, providing enough time and space for the undisturbed flow of imaginary play during early childhood is a way of safeguarding a child’s healthy development (Sobo, 2014).
A Waldorf classroom is dominated by unprocessed open-ended toys, mostly made from natural materials, such as roughly shaped stones, pieces of wood, seashells, wool, and pinecones. Here, dolls have vague, unspecified facial expressions and are soft and made of cotton stuffed with wool. Such choices of play materials are guided by the idea that a child’s imaginary forces can develop more vividly and freely when the materials are formable and undefined. Thus, in a sense, the materials are “silent,” leaving them up to the children as to how the items should be scripted during play (Attfield, 2022; Frödén and von Wright, 2018). The vague and soft qualities of the play materials, along with the interior and the furnishing of the classroom, may also support the nonlinear dream-like consciousness, according to Waldorf teachers (Sobo, 2014).
There are two reasons why a Waldorf classroom is especially suitable as a location for studying children’s negotiation of play scripts and their experiences of resistance. First, the open-ended qualities of the play materials give space for numerous negotiable play scripts, unlike industrial pre-scripted toys, where the space for negotiations is seemingly limited (Frödén and Rosell, 2019; Sobo, 2014). Most ECE institutions provide unscripted play materials to some extent, especially outdoors. In comparison, Waldorf classrooms are uncompromisingly dominated by open-ended natural materials.
Second, Waldorf teachers are reluctant to engage directly in children’s play due to their emphasis on play as children’s sacred place (Attfield, 2022). Thus, to a greater extent, children are taught to rely on their own capacity for negotiation than in a classroom where teachers are more directly involved in playing. Certainly, all children are given space for play without the presence of adults from time to time, but while teachers’ engagement in play is often seen as the ideal way of working in an ECE classroom (Weisberg et al., 2013), a teacher showing careful reticence is the preferred choice of action in a Waldorf classroom.
Previous research
There has been some interest among researchers in how negotiations between children in ECE institutions during play provide possibilities for democratic experiences. Most of the studies have been conducted in the Nordic region, perhaps because Nordic countries have a long and vivid tradition of play-based curricula in ECE, including an emphasis on young children’s democratic understanding.
Most studies highlight the significance of conflicts during play—an idea that has often been linked to Chantall Mouffe and her concept of democracy as a place for unsettled agonistic contradiction, often called friendly conflicts (Grindheim, 2014; Johansson and Emilson, 2016; Nome, 2022; Sadownik and Starego, 2021). Although I do not necessarily label the incidents in my data as “conflicts,” these studies can still be related to my inquiry because negotiations about play scripts easily end in conflicts, as I will present later in the analysis.
The abovementioned studies have argued that children must experience conflicting situations during play and that they should be given opportunities and support to solve them without hasty adult intervention. Hence, these studies have also argued that children should be given time and space for free, self-regulated play in ECE institutions. Overall, these studies link conflict, negotiations, and resistance during free play to democratic development and children’s experience of citizenship.
Among the above mentioned studies, only Nome (2022) investigated how play materials are being used or given agency in conflicts and negotiations. In particular, the study shows how toddlers depend on material things and toys to express their citizenship through agonistic encounters. Toddlers have limited possibilities to interact verbally, so things “talk” on their behalf. Another Norwegian study (Melhuus, 2015) discussed how the interior is largely seen as a different condition for citizenship due to the possibilities of changing it or the lack of such possibilities. However, none of the studies mentioned are concerned with the specific characteristics of the play materials used, such as the open-ended natural materials used in a Waldorf classroom.
Play in Waldorf ECE classrooms has been investigated in previous works. For example, Attfield (2022) included play in her recent study on child-centeredness and inclusion in Waldorf classrooms. Furthermore, Sobo (2014) conducted observations and interviewed teachers about the connection between play, health, and well-being in a Waldorf setting. Sara Fröden authored two of the few studies in which the characteristics of Waldorf play materials were investigated. In one of her studies, she discovered how unprocessed natural materials reduced stereotypical gender differences in play scripts (Frödén, 2019). In another study, she found a higher degree of open and imaginative play scripts when the materials were unprocessed and unspecified, as in a typical Waldorf environment (Frödén and Rosell, 2019). However, unlike the current study, Fröden did not link her findings to democratic development or citizenship.
Methods
The present study is a micro-ethnographic inquiry into small incidents of play among children between the ages of 3 and 5 years enrolled in two Norwegian Waldorf kindergartens. Accompanied by a master’s student 2 I spent approximately 3 hours a day during a three-week observation period in each kindergarten. In one of the kindergartens (K1), we combined field notes with footage from three action cameras strapped on the chests of some of the oldest children in the group during playtime. In the other kindergarten (K2), however, we limited ourselves to audio recordings to support the field notes due to some reluctance among the leadership to introduce an action camera into the classroom. Taking video recordings is a frequently used method in ethnographic research in early childhood settings (Burris, 2017; Heikkilä and Sahlström, 2003; Richardson, 2023) mainly because it gives the researcher good opportunities to examine subtle gestures and nonverbal expressions in the subjects. Hence, in K2, we needed to pay more attention to these expressions in our field notes.
Why and how we used action cameras
Action cameras worn by children have been successfully used in previous research on children’s lifeworlds (Burris, 2017; Ergler et al., 2021; Richardson, 2023; Storli, 2013). We found that these cameras provided us with a unique opportunity to observe children as well as their utterances and movements on a micro level, even when they moved around in cluttered areas. An action camera aimed at a forward-filming angle could also capture the children’s field of view, enabling us to see what they saw as they moved around (Burris, 2017; Richardson, 2023). Hence, this technology helped us get as close to their lifeworlds as possible, which is often highlighted as an ideal condition in qualitative research.
However, there are some methodological challenges to using action camera technology in research. For example, the facial expressions and other nonverbal utterances of a child carrying the camera were not recorded. Furthermore, the camera itself can be cumbersome for children, making them uncomfortable and highly aware of its presence. The children can also accidentally turn off the cameras or change the settings during the observations, thereby rendering the footage unusable (Richardson, 2023). In the present study, we experienced all of these problems to some extent.
Furthermore, by carrying around action cameras while playing, they somehow needed to have an identity as coresearchers. Hence, they must be able to understand the purpose of the project to a certain degree. For this reason, we chose the oldest children (the school starters) for this task, explaining to them that we wanted them to help us show how they played. This was a task they took seriously, and despite the challenges mentioned, they soon fell nicely into play, ignoring the cameras’ presence.
Procedures
Students from two Waldorf kindergartens in Norway took part in the study. In both cases, we spent about 3 weeks with the children and the staff. Both groups included 18–20 children and a staff of four to five teachers and assistants. After a week of general participatory observations, video and audio observations were initially carried out in the morning, when the children arrived between 08:30 and 11:00 AM. This period was chosen because it was without staff-governed activities, thus providing rich opportunities for self-regulated peer interactions among the children in the main playing areas. How many and which children were present varied.
In K1, the children assigned as coresearchers were invited to use action cameras as they arrived at the start of Week 2. We used a maximum of three cameras in each of the seven sessions we were able to record. While making the video recordings, we withdrew to a position in a corner of the room to take notes that could help us better understand the context in which the situations occurred. In K2, we had to rely only on audio recordings and were able to make 30 recordings during the 3-week period. As we kept the recorder in our pockets, we had to stay close to the activity we observed to collect useful recordings. This proved to be quite challenging, as the children often moved rapidly around the room during play. The risk of disturbing or influencing their activities was also intrusive, as we were in such close proximity to them. Hence, in K2, the field notes had to be more complementary to the activities to provide sufficient data. We collected a total of 13 hours of video footage from K1 and 5 hours of audio recordings from K2, which we supported with our extensive field notes.
Data analysis
First, all the video footage and audio recordings were reviewed using an open-minded approach, with a general interest in how the children interacted with one another and with the play materials. However, the word resistance accompanied us in this first review. Hence, we brought a theoretically based concept into the dialog with the data.
This first review provided the possibility of identifying episodes in which resistance in some form seemed to influence the situations. These situations were then analyzed, extracted, watched, and listened to several times to detect and describe how the play materials seemed to affect the ways in which the children experienced or offered resistance. Furthermore, we created various short narratives based on the footage. During this process, we categorized the ways in which resistance seemed to evolve. We ended up with three categories: resistance from the play materials, from previous play scripts, and from play partners.
Ethical considerations
The study was approved by the Norwegian Data Protection Official for Research, and the thorough involvement of the participating children’s parents was ensured. To ensure anonymity, we used pseudonyms. As previously mentioned, we encountered some ethical challenges in allowing some children to use action cameras while playing (Richardson, 2023). We were careful not to push them if they did not want to contribute, and we had to be sensitive to their nonverbal expressions of discomfort while carrying the cameras. We were also able to turn the cameras off remotely when they went into the bathroom or otherwise needed privacy. There was also a risk of giving some children a kind of privilege among their peers by giving them the status of coresearchers, just as we did in K1 (Richardson, 2023). Given that we chose the whole group of school starters for this task, we selected a group that already had a special status among the children, thus avoiding any disturbances in the group’s overall social life.
Analysis and results
This inquiry aimed to demonstrate how play scripts are negotiated in an environment dominated by unscripted play materials and what kinds of resistance are encountered by children in these processes. In the following data samples, the children used different kinds of unprocessed materials that required agreement between play partners regarding what the different items represented as imaginary objects. In the first sample, two children used a bowl, a ladle, and a basket of square-shaped and colored wooden bricks. They are acting out the process of preparing food:
Karen and Andrew sit out of sight in a corner of the wardrobe. Karen puts a bowl filled with collared wooden bricks on top of a basket, which she calls the stove. She finds a wooden ladle and puts it into the bowl as well.
We must pour everything out first, and then you can hand me what we need (she pours the blocks out of the bowl). So, what do you think we need?
Vegetable soup! Or porridge!
We need porridge. Then we need . . . (she examines the variety of colored blocks on the floor) No, we cannot have porridge. We need strawberries!
Strawberry (he picks up a red block and gives it to Karen). . . Here you are.
Strawberries, thank you! (She puts the block into the bowl and starts stirring.) And then water! That’s blue. (Andrew puts a blue brick into the bowl. Karen continues to stir.) Milk! That is . . . that one! (She points at a green brick. Andrew picks it up and slips it into the bowl.) Then . . . we need . . . an apple! (Andrew puts another red brick into the bowl.) No, apple is green. (She removes the red brick and points to a green one. Andrew slips it into the bowl, and Karen goes on stirring with the ladle.)
At first sight, Karen and Andrew successfully negotiated what kind of food they wanted to make. However, it soon appeared that a third part was involved in the negotiation: the selection of colored bricks. It was after Karen had examined the bricks that she concluded that the porridge was out of the question. The bricks were seemingly too colorful for porridge, so she asked for strawberries, probably because the red bricks attracted her attention. In response, Andrew handed over a red brick. The colors of the bricks continued to lead on when a blue brick ended up as water. Karen decided, however, that a green brick represented milk. When she asked for an apple, Andrew chose a red brick, but Karen wanted another green one as an apple.
In this example, the colored bricks they used are unscripted play materials. They are not shaped like strawberries or apples, so they can end up in a variety of imaginary objects in different kinds of play. Nevertheless, they have some degree of affordances. The materials are not entirely voiceless because their qualities (i.e. their colors) give Karen and Andrew a nudge to use them in certain ways. These children need to be sufficiently attuned to the constraints of their environment. Hence, to a certain extent, even unscripted play materials can take part in play negotiations, the result of which is the successful scripting of the play materials. Thus, the red bricks are strawberries, the blue ones are water, and the red ones are either milk or apples. However, these scripts are only valid within this specific play activity. When the activity ends, the bricks are once again open to new negotiations and scripts.
However, if the children repeatedly script the play materials as certain things over time, it might be more problematic to give them new scripts, even if the materials themselves are open-ended. The next example provides insights into how undefined materials can turn out to be pre-scripted when they are used in play:
Alma and Peter are collecting different items to play with: wooden bricks, pieces of wool, and carved animals. Alma picks up a long wooden brick. “We just eat phones,” she says. Peter shows enthusiasm while answering as he gestures toward the wooden brick on the floor in front of him. “Yes, we just eat phones!”
It seemed like this specific shape of bricks was scripted like a cell phone in this specific group. Maybe they were often used as such in other play scenarios because their shapes easily fit as a phone in the children’s hands. It might also be that Alma and Peter discovered similarities between these bricks and a phone as they played. However, I observed that such bricks were used as phones in different play activities in both kindergartens during the fieldwork; thus, I assumed that there were scripts connected to these bricks in advance to which Peter and Alma needed to relate.
Either way, in this example, Alma and Peter are looking for things to eat, not a phone. However, they still need to reflect on the inherent script while playing as they humorously notice that they are eating phones. This humorous utterance could be seen as a way to negotiate while playing, not only with each other, but with the material at hand and its inherent scrip. Hence, the fact that they use these bricks as something other than what they are scripted as is a small—albeit manageable—obstacle in their play. This challenge can be overcome simply by making a shared humoristic comment about it: Alma is the first to comment on the fact that they are going to eat phones, and Peter realizes the same thing. Thus, their play activity has good odds of developing smoothly, as they both agree on how the materials are used and share the same humor related to the script they are about to oppose. The next example, however, shows that such smooth progress is not always the case:
Synne and Peter are pretending to go shopping. Synne grabs a long knitted ribbon and says that they need a shopping list. Peter picks up a wooden board from the floor and pretends to read it: “We need some soda . . .” he says. Synne looks at him and says in a laughable voice, “That is not a shopping list! It’s a baking tray!” She takes the wooden board from him and leaves it on a table.
In this example, although Synne and Peter both shared the imaginative play world of a household, they must still agree on how the different play materials should be scripted. Among the variety of unscripted items, they needed something that could represent a shopping list, and Peter chose a wooden board, unaware that Synne already picked a knitted ribbon for that purpose. In fact, she has already scripted the wooden board as a baking tray.
Here, there is no obvious difference in the affordances between the two items, and both are well suited as shopping lists. As there is no piece of paper or pencil available (i.e. items already scripted for the purpose), Synne and Peter are left with the challenge of agreeing on which item should be scripted as a shopping list, and they have not succeeded in doing so. They both offered resistance to each other’s preferred objects. In response, Synne tries to solve the problem by taking the leading role and forcing her script through, but Peter’s script is not easily forgotten:
When they leave for the shop, Peter picks up the wooden board again. Synne repeats that it is not a shopping list. “It’s my shopping list,” says Peter, as Synne tries to take it away from him. Synne pushes him and tells him with a firm voice, “We have only one shopping list, and that is this one.” She holds up the knitted ribbon in front of his face. Soon after, Peter leaves Synne and the activity they shared.
Peter insists on the idea of the wooden board being used as a shopping list despite Synne’s clear instruction. Consequently, the whole activity breaks down when Synne seemingly gets aggressive as she once again tries to force her script through.
One could think that such a small conflict regarding play scripts could easily be solved by negotiations where the children try to argue for their own views as well as give credit to the other ones. However, this situation is not necessarily that simple. The household scenario shows that a play environment with unscripted play materials often demands challenging negotiations to establish a successful play script. While the children in the first two examples successfully established their play scripts, Peter and Synne failed to do so. The next example shows another way of dealing with conflicting scripts during play:
Emma (5) and Ida (4) are playing princesses and dragons in a cave made of sheets. Ida is the princess. She is wearing a mantel and a crown made of felted wool, and she pretends to be licking on a pinecone. “That’s a really good ice cream,” she says. Emma looks at her in a patronizing way. “No! That’s dragon flames.” Ida answers with a trembling voice, “No, it is not. It is ice cream.” Emma looks at her and states firmly, “You cannot eat that!” “Yes, I can. I just pretend to,” Ida replies quietly.
Ida and Emma shared a fairytale-inspired play script with princesses and dragons. Their play scene included different kinds of unscripted items. Within this shared play script, the two girls seemed to script the items differently, such that the pinecone that Ida had scripted as ice cream had already been scripted as dragon flames by Emma.
There are some vague affordances in a pinecone that indicate both flames and ice cream, as it can be seen as prickly as flames and ball-shaped like an ice cream top. Therefore, unless there are clear inherent scripts based on the previous use of these pinecones, they need to be negotiated there and then. It seemed like Ida and Emma missed out on the negotiation part and ended up like Synne and Peter in the previous example. However, Synne and Peter scripted different items as the same imaginary object, while Ida and Emma scripted the same item as two different imaginary objects. Nevertheless, the result is the same (i.e. conflicting play scripts and experiences of resistance): Ida, who is the youngest one, seemingly admits Emma’s right to define the script for the cones, but she finds a way to give her own script legitimacy by saying that she “just pretends to” when she uses the pinecones as ice cream. Therefore, she creates a space for her own play within the play scene that Emma has just controlled.
As shown by the example, every play situation could be seen as a way to escape the dominating scripts in different situations, such as when a child escapes the script of a meal by using a piece of bread as a car. Hence, even within a play scene, Ida can escape the main play script and still get away with it if she pretends. The result is that their play scene could continue to evolve despite their conflicting views on how to use the pinecones.
Final discussion
The examples presented in this paper demonstrate some of the ways in which resistance is experienced in play negotiations within an environment dominated by unprocessed and open-ended play materials. Hence, negotiations about play scrips are an introduction to democracy’s most important features: to give and take, to listen and be listened to, and to admit space to others and to be admitted space back in return (Arendt, 1998). In the context of the present study, the results can be summed up into three features: the resistance of the play material, the resistance of previous play scripts, and the resistance of the play partners. These features are not three separate kinds of negotiations; rather, they are more like three different voices that can be heard in any negotiation about play scripts.
Resistance of the play materials
The first main finding is that all play materials have some degree of affordances or qualities that contribute to interactions (Greeno, 1994). Even if the materials are unprocessed and open-ended, they offer a child some nudges or invitations that make some play scripts easier to establish than others. Thus, negotiations about play scripts are made not just between play partners, but also between the child and the material at hand. For example, when Karen and Andrew developed their idea of which food to make, the colors of the bricks made a difference. The red color gave the children a small nudge in the direction of strawberries as the main ingredients and made them leave the idea of a porridge. Similar examples occurred during the fieldwork. In K1, for instance, there were empty spice cans that could be used freely in play. However, the smell of the empty cans seemed to have a great impact on how the cans were used.
Nevertheless, open-ended play materials leave space for negotiation, and the affordances they offer contribute to interactions and do not necessarily determine them (Greeno, 1994). As shown in the shopping list case, two items offered the same affordance, whereas in the dragon-and-princess case, one item offered different affordances to different play partners.
To a certain extent, one could say that play does not need play partners to be a democratic experience. Even playing alone with roughly shaped, open-ended play materials offers some degree of resistance and demands negotiation, as well as some elements of give and take, listening, and being listened to. Indeed, unprocessed and open-ended materials offer important qualities in such negotiations. If Karen and Andrew had access to detailed strawberry-shaped figures, there would not have been much space for negotiation. As seen in the example, the red bricks could also end up as apples, according to Andrew, and later, in their rather long play sequence, they served as cans of tomato when Karen needed them as such.
Consequently, I also find that the Waldorf curriculum for early childhood requires some adjustments at this point, along with other traditional ideas of play. The material is never silent and is ready to be completely transformed based on a child’s imaginary forces, which is often stated as a basic Waldorf-tradition (Frödén and von Wright, 2018). I find that Biesta’s statement that “the world ‘out there’ is not of our own making [. . .] but has an existence and integrity of its own” (Biesta, 2015: 32) is quite accurate when it comes to children’s play negotiations. To negotiate play scripts is to admit space and integrity for the world around them, regardless of whether the children deal with pinecones or other natural materials.
Resistance in previous play scripts
One of the other main findings of this study is that even unprocessed open-ended materials can be pre-scripted based on previous use by a group of children. There are specific and well-established rules of the game connected to some of the items (Gulløv, 1999; Nelson and Nelson, 1985). Some wooden bricks might be pre-scripted as cellphones, a case found in both kindergartens. I also found that specific logs of wood were pre-scripted as weapons in K1. It does not mean, however, that these objects are impossible to script as other things, but the children sometimes need to relate to such pre-scrips before or during play. It is as if they say, “We know that this wooden brick is a cell phone, but we choose to use it as a piece of bread.” This could be easily solved, as in the example where Alma and Peter humorously announced that they were eating cell phones. However, I find it likely that some children will be reticent to script some of the items as things other than what they already are scripted as, even if they are sticks, stones, or cones.
Relating to inherent scripts based on previous use adds another element to play negotiations, in addition to affordances here and now. As previously mentioned, some items provide affordances for different kinds of interactions. Thus, the kind of affordance the group has previously emphasized makes one of the possible interactions more likely than others.
Furthermore, it seems likely that resistance from previous scripts is more intrusive when the material is open-ended, as it often has a variety of applications. For example, pinecones can represent flames, ice cream, and many other imaginary objects. Both main findings indicate that the term free play is inexpedient for describing play in ECE groups. Many external factors must be considered when play scripts are established.
Resistance of the play partners
The voice of play partners in negotiations about play scripts is an important contributor to resistance and sometimes even suffering during play. This is also in accordance with previous research on democracy in ECE (Grindheim, 2014; Johansson and Emilson, 2016; Nome, 2022; Sadownik and Starego, 2021).
The question is whether unprocessed open-ended play materials make negotiations even more challenging compared to industrially processed toys. As shown by the examples of children playing with pinecones and a pretend shopping list, the vagueness of the material allows many misconceptions and mismatches that might interfere with children’s ideas of play scripts. The fact that pinecones provide affordances in different directions increased the need for Emma and Ida to communicate about the script. So did the variety of things that could be a shopping list for Synne and Peter. Indeed, different play partners interpret the play material differently.
In addition, establishing successful play scripts with open-ended play materials seems to demand rather good communication skills, perhaps more than needed, if the material is self-explanatory, such as most industrial processed toys. If the children succeed, they will experience resistance that they can overcome by adjusting their own ideas continually to what the materials allow and what ideas their play partners put on the table. This is what I call “fruitful democratic experiences” in which the children seemingly manage to stay on what Biesta refers to as the difficult middle ground (Biesta, 2021).
Consequently, the risk of failure is also intrusive. For example, when Synne and Peter failed to establish which item should represent a shopping list, one of the risks was that the whole play script collapsed due to the lack of communication and the subsequent resistance from play partners that they could not overcome. Ida and Emma had a similar experience when they disagreed on what the pinecones represented. However, instead of risking a total collapse, Ida chose to avoid the confrontation by saying that her script was just a pretend one; hence, Emma’s script was the only valid one. Both examples demonstrate what I consider less fruitful experiences. They showed tendencies of both world-destruction and self-destruction (Biesta, 2021), as when Synne destroyed any room for deviant ideas about the shopping list and Peter gave up and withdrew completely from the situation.
Conclusion
Developing democratic citizenship is yet another task for ECE institutions to solve. With every new task comes new and promising instruction-based programs that can be added to already busy days, making the work of ECE teachers even more overwhelming (Pettersvold and Østrem, 2019). However, this inquiry shows that well-established traditions in ECE, such as self-regulated play, contribute to the fulfillment of many tasks, including the first step toward democratic citizenship. Fruitful democratic experiences during play occur when negotiations about play scripts contain elements of giving and taking, listening and being listened to, and facing resistance and overcoming it without anyone left with a loss of subjectivity.
Play environments dominated by unprocessed open-ended materials, such as those found in Waldorf kindergartens, provide children with rich opportunities for fruitful democratic experiences. This is because any use of play materials as imaginary objects requires negotiation among play partners. However, from time to time, well-established scripts are connected to some play items based on previous use in the group. Furthermore, there are often affordances from qualities in the materials themselves, even if they are raw natural materials. Both factors must be included in negotiations between play partners to establish a successful play script.
Consequently, play negotiations are often challenging and require good communication skills. It is likely that the risk of failure might be more intrusive with open-ended play materials because the complexity is slightly greater compared to a play environment where the materials are less negotiable.
Despite these nuances, I find that Waldorf kindergartens represent an interesting model for working for democratic experiences in ways that might inspire others. I will not, however, call it a new way, as the use of unprocessed open-ended materials in play is not completely unfamiliar outside a Waldorf setting. It still dominates the outdoor environment in many ECE institutions, and it is familiar to those institutions that spend time playing in nature. However, this inquiry is a small nudge to bring some aspect of nature indoors and to make playtime even more negotiable.
