Timescapes of Waiting: Spending Time in a Swedish School-age Educare Centre

Abstract

This study aims to problematise how time, exemplified by waiting, may take shape in a school-age educare (SAEC) centre. The focus is on the organisation of time and how it is produced through the interactions between children, teachers, and the SAEC context. The study builds on ethnographic data from one SAEC centre. The results show how different time units create time frames with distinct blocks and intervals, influenced by the need for the same staff, premises, and children to transition between activities. Waiting takes place in the intervals between these blocks. The results of this study suggest that the sense of owning one’s time is crucial for waiting to be shaped in positive ways. Waiting that is incomprehensible or unpredictable to children tends to become idle, unproductive, or even perceived as lost time.

Introduction

In recent years, research has shown that parts of children’s out-of-school time have become more institutionalised in Western countries (e.g. Fakou, 2025; Holloway and Pimlott-Wilson, 2014; Nordbakke, 2019), leading to leisure time that is safeguarded by adults and generating ideas about how best to utilise this time to achieve the potential of each child (e.g. Cartmel and Grieshaber, 2014; Haglund and Anderson, 2009). For this reason, it is important to examine what happens to children’s time in the places that are supposed to provide meaningful leisure activities (i.e. activities that are experienced as engaging, enjoyable, and relevant to children’s interests and well-being). This study explores time-use in the context of Swedish school-age educare centres (hereafter SAEC centres).

In a Swedish context, SAEC centres constitute an important arena in which most children aged 6 to 9 take part. SAEC centres are a kind of before- and after-school care. The centres serve multiple purposes: they provide children with education that complements school, emphasising informal and experiential learning. Additionally, SAEC offers opportunities for play, recreation, and meaningful leisure activities (SNAE, Swedish National Agency of Education, 2024).

At the same time, surveys and research have shown that conditions vary across SAECs, making it challenging to provide high-quality activities. For example, there are indications of increasing child group sizes, declining teacher-to-child ratios, and inadequate material conditions (Swedish School Inspectorate, 2018). This indicates a gap between aspirations and practice. Lager (2020) has explored how varying conditions produce different SAEC practices. She shows that the activities children encounter differ greatly and that different qualitative conditions are produced in relation to material conditions. She describes three types of practice: the SAEC centre as an abandoned space, as an activity space, and as a community space. These types of SAEC practices differ in how relationships between children and teachers are made possible, children’s opportunities for influence, and whether children perceive the activities as meaningful. Lager’s study demonstrates that time organisation and routines are an important part of the conditions of SAEC.

Building on these findings, it becomes crucial to understand how everyday life in SAEC centres is shaped by organisational structures. This study therefore examines and problematises the use of time in one centre, focusing on how time organisation influences children’s scope for action and participation. This study takes a perspective on the relationship between children and the SAEC organisation as twofold – on the one hand, children’s scope for action is influenced by the institutional context, which sets the frames for what is possible and how; but, on the other hand, the institution is maintained by the children’s actions, which means that these also contribute to shaping and changing the institution (Corsaro, 2018).

This study aims to problematise how time, exemplified by waiting, can take shape within a SAEC centre. The focus is on the organisation of time and how this is produced through the interactions between children, teachers, and the SAEC context. More specifically, the study aims to investigate how children’s waiting takes shape in a Swedish SAEC context.

Timescapes

This study uses Barbara Adam’s concept of time. Adam (1995, 2004) argues that time is multifaceted. Like the dual relationship between actors and institutional contexts described earlier, time is multi-layered. It is something that both shapes and is shaped by our actions.

Time is real

Time is ideal

Time is illusion

(Adam, 2004: 50)

Time is not fixed but can be experienced as real. According to Adam (1995: 14–15), this means that human action is ‘temporally extended in time and space’. Thus, time becomes something within which we orientate ourselves, like a landscape, a timescape. Importantly, this orientation is not abstract, it is materially and spatially situated (Adam, 2004). In this view, timescapes are not only temporal but also spatial and mobile, shaped by movement through places, institutions, and social contexts (cf. Higginson, 2023). Adam argues that, in many ways, time relations are characterised by creation and control. Temporal control, the experience of being able to shape, manage, or predict one’s temporal experience, is a central part of how time impacts upon human action. This includes being able to decide when things happen, how long they take, and in what sequence. Although time must be understood as changeable, there are certain aspects that emerge as important within a timescape. Adam (2004: 144) names these as: Time frames (the different units of time: seconds, years, a lifetime, etc.); Temporality (time as a process); Tempo (pace, intensity); Timing (synchronisation); Time points; Time patterns; Time sequence; Time extensions; Time past, present, and future. In this study, Adam’s concept of the timescape is used to discuss how waiting takes shape within a Swedish SAEC centre, but first I want to say something about what waiting is and about research on children’s waiting.

Waiting

In line with Adam’s reasoning, in this study waiting is seen as being both contextually and materially situated; it is and is perceived at the same time. Waiting in relation to Adam’s timescape can be seen as connected to the past, present, and, especially, the future. The future, according to Adam and Groves (2007), is a space awaiting our desires, ready to be shaped. What we are waiting for is therefore central. However, what occurs both before and after waiting is significant because waiting occurs in-between other instances. Singer et al. (2019) connects waiting to movement and defines it as a break in mobility and in the spatio-temporal order. In a sense, waiting can thus be seen as ‘the cracks and faultlines that spatial regimes produce’ (Singer et al., 2019: 1). In-betweenness refers to a temporally and spatially situated condition in which waiting shapes experience and sociality. Kärrholm and Sandin (2011) identify four modes of waiting – settled, pre-settled, unsettled, and non-settled – that reflect varying degrees of control and predictability. In settled and pre-settled forms, waiting may be expected or even anticipated, whereas unsettled and non-settled modes are marked by instability and uncertainty. These interstitial moments reveal how in-betweenness within the timescape is actively negotiated. Waiting inevitably occurs between other activities and therefore has a key role to play in most contexts. Due to its in-between status, however, it is relatively under-researched.

Time in SAEC centres

When seeking to understand the timescape of SAEC and similar activities, it is important to consider their mixture of children’s self-organised activities such as play, teacher-led activities, and care routines (e.g. Haglund and Boström, 2020; Horgan et al., 2018; Lager, 2020; Moir and Brunker, 2021). Children’s freedom of choice and participation is often an important part of SAEC practice, not least for the children themselves (Elvstrand and Närvänen, 2016). Simultaneously, a strong structure and adult control can help to create safety (Borg, 2024) and children themselves can appreciate the activities offered by adults (Ackesjö et al., 2024). It can therefore be said that SAEC centres are characterised by a balance between structure and children’s choices (Elvstrand and Lago, 2019).

Children’s waiting

Waiting and what children do while waiting has been researched in several studies, including in schools. In classrooms, waiting is often individualised and is described as an integral part of the school day. Situations in which many children are to participate in joint teaching means that they need to wait for each other as well as for teachers to help them, for instructions, or for their turn to speak (e.g. Peine and Coleman, 2010). Waiting in classrooms can contribute to changes in the norms of Ingram and Elliott (2015) classroom interaction because it often provides greater autonomy for the children themselves than the time in-between waiting (Ingram and Elliott, 2015).

In other institutional contexts, waiting has been described as more collective. Such collective or social waiting is that which occurs in the gaps between organised lessons. Such gap time has been described as ‘significant time for students’ (Pierce, 2005: 7) because it is time they control themselves. One study that looks at waiting in Australian out-of-school care hours (OSCH) is by Hurst (2019), who shows that children’s communal waiting is far from being a non-activity. Rather, the spaces for waiting that exist in OSCH can be productive. Hurst emphasises that waiting can be an act of care and play, and that it is important to integrate this into the planning of activities. Another Australian study of OSCH (Cartmel et al., 2024) shows that, in this setting, there is a positive view of what they call ‘passive leisure’, which means taking time out or doing nothing. This could be understood as a kind of waiting, not necessarily a structurally imposed waiting but rather a sort of space to step out of the time order that children can decide upon themselves. Children also appreciate or expect such opportunities in SAEC centres and use them as breaks from activities and requirements (e.g. Lago and Elvstrand, 2021).

Methodology

This study draws on ethnographic data from one SAEC centre, which I will call the Apple Grove. I participated at this centre for a week and followed the daily activities during the afternoon hours. Fieldwork involved observation, participation, and informal conversations with teachers and children.

Each afternoon, I conducted fieldwork for 2.5–3.5 hours, following the centre’s regular activities, none arranged specifically for research. My observations focused on the group. I tried to be where most people (teachers and children) were. Given the mobility and diversity of activities at SAEC, I sometimes had to choose where to be. When children were in different places, I chose what seemed to be the main activity or where many teachers and children were. The goal was to uncover the daily routines and activities at the SAEC centre. This approach helped me to understand group behaviours and meaning-making in the specific context.

Although the fieldwork was limited to one week, it aligns with what Jeffrey and Troman (2004) describe as a compressed ethnographic time mode. This mode entails short yet intense periods of immersion, during which the researcher inhabits the field site and documents the dynamics of the context. Rather than aiming for longitudinal coverage, the compressed mode seeks to capture the richness of situated interactions and social relations within a specific temporal frame. In this sense, the study contributes to ethnographic understanding by offering a detailed snapshot of everyday life at one SAEC centre.

While the study focuses on a single site and a limited time frame, the organisation and activities observed at the Apple Grove reflect patterns that are familiar from both my previous field experiences and existing research on SAEC centres (e.g. Haglund and Boström, 2020; Lager, 2020). This suggests that the observed practices are not isolated or atypical, but rather part of a broader landscape of SAEC practice. At the same time, it is important to acknowledge that there is no single way to run a SAEC centre. Therefore, this study offers an in-depth account of one version of SAEC life, contributing to the cumulative and multifaceted understanding of everyday practices in Swedish SAEC centres (Richardson and St. Pierre, 2005.

While my presence may have influenced events, ethnographic methodology acknowledges the researcher as part of the studied context (cf. Hammersley & Atkinson, 2007; Pink, 2013). For instance, I cannot know whether teachers planned specific activities. By participating, I also helped shape the context through ongoing interactions. While I participated in activities, I also contributed to how the context was shaped during that moment when I was part of the ongoing interactions. The children’s ways of engaging with me differed from how adults typically participate in research. Their involvement can be seen as embodied, and situated, through movement, gestures, and shared activities rather than through explicit conversation. At times, they guided my attention, invited me into their practices. Following Dennis and Huf (2020), I understand this as a form of mutual involvement, where the research emerged through entangled interactions shaped by the children’s everyday ways of being in the SAEC environment.

Observations were documented using fieldnotes. At the Apple Grove, I jotted down key words in a notebook, which I later expanded into detailed ethnographic descriptions on the computer. No personal data, such as names, was recorded. To maintain overall descriptions and protect privacy, participants are referred to as ‘a child’, ‘the children’, ‘two teachers’, etc. In one case, a participant is designated by a letter for readability. The study is part of a larger project which, according to the Swedish Ethics Authority, did not fall within the scope of the law on ethical review (2023-04961-01). Most of all, ethics in this kind of research must be seen to extend beyond formal ethical issues and centre around ethics in practice and the relations and specificities of the context (cf. Gaches, 2022). This involved continuously assessing the appropriateness of my presence and being sensitive to participants’ signals to participate. Before the fieldwork, information was shared with the children and their guardians about my presence and its purpose.

Analytically, this study uses what Pink (2021) calls ‘the analytic hunch’. In ethnographic research, the subjective experience of knowledge about complex relationships and organisations that is gained through participation is emphasised as a strength that contributes to understanding. Curiosity about and interest in a noted phenomenon (the hunch) are, Pink argues, a central part of ethnographic analysis. Although it is not a systematised way of approaching data, it is based on a holistic perspective where knowledge of data, field, phenomenon, and theory are intertwined into ‘the beginning of an analytical trajectory’ (Pink, 2021: 37). While attending the Apple Grove, waiting was one such phenomenon that I noticed on several occasions, and this remained in my thoughts. Based on my hunch that waiting was part of everyday life at the Apple Grove, I chose to take a closer look at this. Going back to my fieldnotes and reading about waiting created what Pink (2021: 39) calls ‘the conditions for a hunch to emerge’. This text is the result of what emerged.

Findings: Waiting as an integrated part of everyday life at the Apple Grove

During my week at the SAEC centre, the Apple Grove, waiting was a significant part of daily life. It was closely tied to the organisation of time and space, occurring during transitions or when a teacher-led activity began or ended. In the canteen, children waited to enter and for everyone to have finished before the teacher allowed them to leave. At the Apple Grove, the children waited for the teachers to bring out materials or gathered around the carpet to receive instructions from the teachers. In some situations, the waiting was clearly linked to a larger organisation (e.g. the Apple Grove had designated times to eat or use the sports hall), in other situations the waiting seemed more connected to local routines (e.g. splitting groups between different rooms). Occasionally, waiting arose unexpectedly, such as when teachers needed to finish tasks before assisting children or when future planned activities were unknown to the children.

Although children did not spend most of their time waiting, it nonetheless constituted a notable part of their day. For this reason, I chose to examine two instances of waiting in detail. These instances are notable for their extended duration compared to other instances of waiting. While somewhat unique, they also reveal processes observable in other situations. This study defines waiting as a break in the spatio-temporal order (cf. Singer et al., 2019), highlighting the importance of the spaces between which waiting occurs. Thus, I refer to these instances as Waiting to go to and Waiting to go from.

Waiting to go to: Anticipated activities and temporal control

This section explores how structured routines and anticipated activities shape children’s experience of waiting, highlighting the role of temporal control and comprehensibility.

The first instance of waiting occurred one afternoon after snack-time. Snack-time is part of the time routine at the Apple Grove and takes place every day around the same time. The afternoon is structured around it as there is a before and after snack-time. Before the snack is school time, after the snack various SAEC activities take place. Between the snack and whatever was happening afterwards, waiting occurred every afternoon that I visited the Apple Grove because these activities are led by teachers who either linger in the canteen or must fetch something before an activity can start.

On this day, the activity is going to the sports hall, which, according to both children and teachers, is always the scheduled activity on this weekday. After the snack, some children take me to the designated meeting point for those who want to join the activity. The sports hall is located a short walk from the school. The meeting point is a square painted on the ground. More children arrive at the square, but no teachers appear. The children explain that they do not usually have to wait this long, and they have no idea why the teachers are late. Although waiting seems to be part of the pattern, today something is occurring that breaks the expected pace and the extension in time, the wait is prolonged. The children begin talking and jostling. Someone accidentally pushes another, and the pushing escalates into pulling sweaters and fighting. Those standing inside the painted square appear increasingly restless, as though staying within the lines is a struggle. There is a strong routinisation of time that is both broken and maintained by the children: they know they should not have to wait this long, yet they also know they are expected to wait in the square.

The minutes pass. It is as though the usual flow has stopped, breaking the expected tempo. The children remain in the painted square. Still, no teachers arrive and the atmosphere among the now large group becomes tense, with pushing and harsh words. Despite this, many children stay in or near the square, with only a few straying more than a few metres away. It is worth considering why the children choose to remain in or near the square. One interpretation is that they are engaged in a form of settled waiting, anticipating a desirable future event, orienting themselves accordingly. This type of waiting becomes comprehensible because it aligns with their expectations and previous experiences and can explain why the children stay in the square.

After we have been waiting for almost 15 minutes, two teachers arrive. They have whistles around their necks and one of them blows it to gather the children together. In this situation, the children do not know why they have had to wait longer than usual – it is notable that clock time is not used by either children or teachers (me being an exception). It is rather a feeling of waiting longer that the children express. These moments of incomprehensibility, where the reasons for waiting are unclear, can be understood as unsettled situations, where children’s control over time is absent and the timescape becomes unstable. Such temporal uncertainty contributes to the unrest. That control lies with the teachers rather than the children is illustrated by the locked door to the sports hall, for which only the teachers have the key. As a result, there is simply no point in leaving without teachers. Adam (2004) argues that control is a central aspect of the timescape, and a lack of control significantly limits children’s space for manoeuvre.

We head for the sports hall. There is some talk among the children about what they will do when they get there. When we arrive, the children are told to back away from the door because the middle-school children are still inside and need to leave before we can enter. The Apple Grove children gather near the doors. One of the teachers blows the whistle and tells them to back away and that, if they do not listen, they must go back to the school. A new instance of waiting arises.

During the previous wait, despite the extension in time, there were some signs of routine, a time pattern. Now, the children are questioning why they must wait again. This suggests that the waiting in this instance did not align with the usual time pattern at the Apple Grove. The waiting occurring now can be understood in relation to school being a place with different time orders where various groups (in this case, the Apple Grove and the middle school) follow different schedules that need to be timed with each other. This waiting appears to result from a timing mismatch, as Apple Grove arrived at the hall before the middle school had finished.

A middle school teacher unlocks the door and says that half the hall is empty if they want to go in. Some children immediately run through the doors. The teacher blows the whistle and tells them that they are not allowed to enter unless their teacher has entered first. Some children step back while others continue through the doors. The teachers warn them that if they do not listen, they must go back to the school. However, none of the children are sent back. Despite the ongoing turmoil, the teachers eventually allow them to enter. This situation illustrates a struggle for control between the children and the teachers, shaped by what the children are waiting for. Being in the sports hall appears to be desirable. The forward movement when the children physically approached the door and their anxiety while waiting can be understood as an attempt to assert control and negotiate the rules in that moment. Thus, the timescape emerges as both creative and shifting.

Waiting to go from: Uncertainty and temporal negotiation

This section examines how waiting in less structured contexts reveals uncertainty, limited control, and how children navigate and respond to timescape constraints.

The second instance of waiting occurred during a gap between two structured activities. In the described timescape of SAEC, where children’s self-organised activities are central (cf. Hurst, 2019), this moment could have offered space for such engagement. However, for various reasons, few children seemed to use the time in that way. After the outdoor activity, one of the teachers goes inside. Some children ask if they can go in too but are told by the teacher who is still outside (hereafter teacher A) that they cannot do so yet. Only a few children remain in the schoolyard, as the other departments have already gone inside and being Friday, many children have left the centre early – which I am told is common. There are just over ten children, A, and me in the schoolyard. It has started to drizzle, and the early-spring air is chilly. Almost all the children have gathered under the roof just outside the Apple Grove door. Two children are sitting on benches a little further away and two are playing in the schoolyard. Above all, we wait. However, the children seem unclear about what we are waiting for, or why. Earlier in the afternoon, the atmosphere was marked by intensity and activity. Now, however, the impression is one of stillness – although, of course, something is always happening. At this time point, two children are sitting on a bench, someone is kicking a ball against a wall, someone is standing by the door, looking into the cloakroom, and teacher A is watching the children, but the pace, the intensity of what is going on, is slow and drawn out. The slow pace not only breaks with the way things were earlier but also seems to break the usual pattern of time at the centre. The children’s questions to A make it visible that there is something unfamiliar about this situation. Some ask again when they can go inside. Teacher A says that she will check with her colleague.

Only now are the children informed about what will happen once they go inside – they will make badges using a special machine. This explanation does not elicit any particular reaction from the children, they do not seem to have heard about this before or to be looking forward to it. We wait a while longer before Teacher A asks who wants to make badges. Just a few children answer affirmatively. Teacher A points to two children and says they can go inside. She unlocks the door – the doors at the Apple Grove are always locked – and lets them in. Suddenly, the pace shifts, and the hesitant atmosphere is broken. Several children move towards the door and ask if they can go in too. They cannot, because there is only one badge machine, so they can only go two at a time, and only the children who want to make badges are allowed inside. ‘Do you want to make badges?’ Teacher A asks a boy who seems especially eager to go inside. He answers ‘no’ and sighs.

The hesitant atmosphere returns and the minutes pass. Most children are standing or sitting on the ground near the Apple Grove door. Some talk in pairs, but mostly it is quiet. I am cold and the rain continues. Time passes and the children continue with what they are doing – or not doing. Someone asks again when they can go inside and receive the answer that they have wanted the badge activity, it is their choice. ‘We have?’ someone asks, reflecting the children’s uncertainty in the moment. The children do not seem to recognise this as their choice. Teacher A looks at the clock and says that two more can go in. There seems to be an agreement between the teachers about the time frame for the activity, how many minutes it takes for two children to make their badges. However, this is not something that has been communicated and the uncertainty about how long they will have to wait creates an eagerness in several children to be next in line. Among those who want to go inside is the boy who said earlier that he did not want to make badges. ‘You didn’t want to make badges’, teacher A reminds him. ‘I’ve changed my mind’, the boy replies. In this situation, as in the waiting above, there is a future, something the children are waiting for. However, unlike the sports hall, it is not an activity that the children show any enthusiasm for, which is revealed by their questioning of it being an activity they have asked for and the fact that several children do not want to make badges, even though they do not want to stay outside either. In this situation, the children appear to be engaged in a non-settled form of waiting, characterised by a lack of control and unclear purpose. Rather than anticipating an anticipated future, they seek to escape an undesirable present, using the promise of movement to negotiate agency.

The experience of waiting in both cases is shaped by how the children relate to what has come before and what they anticipate will follow. In this example, one child uses the future in a creative way to change his present. I do not perceive that the boy has really changed his mind about the badge-making activity; rather, he uses it to escape the discomfort of the present (being outside in the cold) His quiet comment, ‘Because I want to go inside’, reinforces this interpretation. Teacher A instead selects two other children. I follow them inside, and a girl quietly joins without comment from Teacher A, who may not have noticed. Outside the door, the remaining children can be heard sighing. Here, the idleness that marks the situation reflects the children’s lack of control over the present moment. This hesitation and inactivity suggest a temporal disorientation – the children lack control not only over the present but also over how time unfolds. They are unable to do what they want (go inside), yet they are also uninterested in the available options (make badges or play outside). The unpredictability of the situation further shapes the nature of the waiting. It remains unclear how long the wait will last, why only a few children can enter at a time, and why the badge activity is happening in the first place.

Concluding discussion

Taken together, these instances of waiting illustrate how in-betweenness is experienced through varying degrees of temporal control and meaning-making. Drawing on Adam’s (2004) concept of timescape and Kärrholm and Sandin’s (2011) typology of waiting, the children’s experiences reveal how waiting is not merely a pause, but a dynamic negotiation of the SAEC timescape.

Exploring the timescape of the Apple Grove provides some possible answers about how children spend their time, and the ways in which time affects the activities they pursue. At the Apple Grove, various elements influenced the timescape, with care routines (like snack-times) and adult-led activities (such as sports-hall sessions and badge-making) playing a role. This division of time into units creates a sense of time frames consisting of distinct blocks and intervals, influenced by the need for the same staff, premises, and children to transition between activities. An organisation that brings together many individuals will inevitably need to order time. Research shows that SAECs often organise time around activities (Lager, 2020), but there is also openness to the unplanned and what arises in-between (Cartmel et al., 2024). The results of this study highlight the importance of being aware of what this timescape entails, and particularly of what occurs in the cracks between more visible and planned activities. Although routines are important for shaping the SAEC timescape, it can also be seen as co-produced by the conditions and how the children orient themselves to perceived time. While the time units are part of how the adults structure activities, the children also contribute to shaping and reshaping the timescape by acting within or outside the units of time. By remaining within the square in the first example above, they maintain the order of time, by slipping through the door in the second they challenge and reshape it.

The units of time also create time in-between. Previous research has shown that waiting is not inherently negative; it can provide space for significance and control (Pierce, 2005), care and play (Hurst, 2019), or passive leisure and breaks from demands (Cartmel et al., 2024; Lago and Elvstrand, 2021). The results of this study indicate that time spent waiting can also be idle, unproductive, or perhaps even lost time. Why is that? The results of this study indicate two conditions that contribute to this: a) children need comprehensibility and/or predictability, and b) time control, or the sense of owning one’s time, is crucial (cf. Adam, 2004). In the analysed instances, the children lacked both. In this, the anticipated future or the perceived present plays a role in how waiting takes shape. In the two events analysed, there was either motivation to participate in the sports-hall activity (a desired future) or a longing to escape an unwanted present/past. The children are stuck in the present because they have come from something but have nothing to go to. This creates a desire to either go to or go from which diverts focus from the present, making waiting less desirable. Again, control over the situation is crucial. Waiting to leave the rain, cold, and lack of activities outside was marked by idleness and unrest, due to the children’s lack of understanding as to why they had to wait. Collectively, there was a lack of control, although individual children managed to take control by sneaking in or (tactically) changing their minds, thus re-shaping the time frames set by adults. These findings resonate with Kärrholm and Sandin’s (2011) typology of waiting. The children’s experiences reflect aspects of unsettled and non-settled waiting, marked by a lack of control and predictability.

By making visible the Apple Grove timescape and how the organisation around time units creates waiting, and how (lack of) control enables waiting to take shape, this study offers valuable insight into how children’s time can be spent and what we need to pay attention to if we want it to be spent differently.