Gender Exploration in Preschool: A Director’s Story
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“Why is he wearing a dress?” I heard one 3-year-old whisper to her teacher as she looked at the 4-year-old group walking to the playground.
‘Here we go,’ I thought. I waited to see what her teacher would answer.
“Because he wants to, I guess,” she responded.
“Oh. It’s pretty!” the 3-year-old replied. She went back to playing with her friends.
I am the long-time director of a preschool in the Bay Area that serves 66 children from 4 months to 6 years. We are an attachment-based, Reggio Emilia-inspired independent school where teachers are primary caregivers for the same children from the Toddler Room to our pre-K classrooms. We have an attachment model based on our core philosophy that attachment provides “experiences [that] enable children to thrive and achieve a highly flexible and adaptive capacity for balancing their emotions, thinking, and [making] empathic connections with others” (Siegel & Hartzell 2013). I believe that our attachment model allowed Esme (note that names in this article have been changed) to feel safe and secure enough to start her gender journey with her primary caregiver and friends at school.
Esme was a student in our program several years ago and our first experience with a child exploring gender expression so extensively. It was an experience that helped me to see the possibilities and successes we can have as educators in creating a caring and equitable community of learners and in supporting families and children around gender expression and identity. It also helped me realize that many of our fears are unnecessary because if we support young children, they can lead the way to greater understanding and acceptance of gender-based realities. I was grateful that our program’s work in anti-bias education helped our teachers become allies right away, rather than being fearful or concerned.
For decades, our school community has worked to be inclusive and to create an anti-bias environment, one that offers joyful play spaces for each and every child, especially those who may be otherwise marginalized because of their race, culture, immigration status, or other aspects of their identity. We have intentionally created play experiences that encourage children to play with all materials. There are no “boys” or “girls” areas—you are as likely to see a girl playing with trucks or boys playing in the kitchen area, making cookies or soup. We are also working on shifting our language, which is no easy task. We have stopped doing “boy-girl” sorting for activities and patterns for circle time. We are moving away from saying, “Hey guys, come over here!” Instead, we say, “Hey, friends/group/children, come over!” These changes take effort, and we are not perfect, but we know these small shifts make a difference.
The teachers also play games to help children notice each other’s differences and similarities while celebrating their opinions and perspectives. For instance, one simple game we play is “Would You Rather?” The teacher might ask, “Would you rather eat ice cream or frozen yogurt?”, “Would you rather go to the beach or go to a forest?” The children then sort themselves into groups based on their preferences and are invited to notice how the sorting plays out. The questions are purposely broad, with no right or wrong answers. After the game, the teacher may lead a discussion geared around encouraging children to observe the ways peers share different perspectives, emphasizing that all ideas are accepted.
Through play, children can engage in a rich exploration of gender. Children as young as 18 months are aware of gender as they begin to organize and sort their world (Martin & Ruble 2010), and many already start to play with toys traditionally associated with the gender that aligns with their sex assigned at birth (Solomon 2016). It is up to the adults to offer “different perspectives…to allow children access to a range of roles, expressions, and identities” (Solomon 2016). I believe that our progressive and inclusive classroom environment, paired with strong attachment relationships, has supported all children in our program, including Esme, to experience a safe and successful exploration of gender.
Dress Day
Because of our program’s overall approach and overarching goals, Esme was able to discover and express who she was through open-ended, accessible, and gender-neutral play. Sometimes she wanted to wear a dress while doing a dance class, and sometimes, she drew herself with longer hair. In another instance, when writing an “About Me” poem, she began with, “I am a boy.” She loved building with blocks as much as she loved singing Disney songs with her friends. She made elaborate train tracks and wrote stories about them. In short, she was a child, a child who felt safe playing in all areas of the classroom with anyone she wanted. Her play behaviors often straddled the gender binary, yet overall, this pattern wasn’t terribly unusual for a child this young.
When she was around age 4 and a half, she began to have conversations about “feeling like a girl” with her parents and teacher, Marie, who had been her teacher since she was 2. While we knew about gender-fluid children, this was our first time interacting with a child sharing these feelings. It was uncharted territory for us, and the teachers in our program were learning new information and a new language around it. Marie and the other staff had been able to access training about gender; however, putting it into practice seemed daunting. What if we said the wrong thing? What if we made her feel ashamed? What if the parents weren’t open to it? I reassured everyone that the best we could do was honor and accept what this child was telling us.
Fortunately, Esme’s family was close with her teacher and me. We shared conversations about the language used at home and in our program and hoped that we could be a place of safety for Esme. We made the conscious decision to avoid labels at this time. No one was saying Esme was transgender, and we did not introduce this language to the children. This was done in collaboration with the family taking the lead on these discussions as they supported Esme to explore and discuss her gender. Because Esme was so young, there was much uncertainty, but also a strong desire to honor and be responsive to her thoughts and feelings. In this way, we took the lead from the family and followed the same language about “feeling like a girl” instead of “being transgender.” It would be in kindergarten after she had graduated from our program that she would ask to formally change her name from “Eric” to “Esme” and her pronouns to “she/her”. However, while Esme was with us, we didn’t plan any big changes; we allowed Esme to lead the way and guide us.
At first, little changed. Esme played with the same friends, and her personality seemed as open and bubbly as ever. Eventually, she began to wear clips in her short hair and pastel t-shirts. At age 5, for Picture Day, she asked to wear a pink button-down shirt and a blue bowtie. Spring of that same year, she wore a dress to school for the first time with jeans underneath. Her parents reported to me that they had already practiced with her what she could say if other children asked questions, and this rehearsal helped to prepare Esme, both emotionally and socially. It was important to her that she come to school in a dress, and it was important to her parents that she understand that children would probably be curious and that it was going to be okay.
They were right. The dress inspired questions from the other children. Some children whispered to their teachers; some children asked Esme about it directly. Each time, all the children seemed satisfied with the answer of “Because she/I want(s) to,” and that was it. There did not seem to be judgment from the children. No one laughed at her or made her feel bad for wearing a dress. Rather, they seemed genuinely curious, and once they got her reply, they did not need any further explanation.
This first “successful” dress day led her to wear more dresses to school. Mostly, the questions stopped, but one day Marie reported this lunchtime conversation between children:
5-year-old: Why do you like to wear dresses?
Esme: I just like to. And I think, in my brain and in my heart, I’m a girl.
Marie: You know, it’s great that we can all do what we want. If his brain and heart feel like a girl, then he can wear a dress. Sometimes our brain and heart may be different than our body. (At this point in her journey, Esme was using he/him pronouns.)
5-year-old boy: Well, in my brain and heart, I’m a boy.
Another 5-year-old boy: Me too.
Marie: And that’s great. We can all listen to our brain and our heart and do what makes us feel happy.
The discussions with the children helped them to feel safe to ask questions. The use of the attachment model in our setting allows teachers to develop relationships with children over several years. We see how these relationships create strong bonds and how this deepening of connection over time inspires trust, understanding, and love. For example, Esme would open up to her teacher, parents, and grandmother about “feeling like a girl”—but no one else. These four people had her ultimate trust that they would honor her feelings and support her through what she could see was an unusual situation. Because she trusted them to take care of her, she had little fear or anxiety about herself.
Working with Families
I knew that eventually other families would notice the changes in Esme and waited to see if there needed to be any announcement from us as a school. We had discussed this idea with Esme’s teacher, Marie; with our executive director, Jackie; and with Esme’s family. No one felt strongly that we should “out” Esme to “protect” her. If anything, we felt this was a very personal matter that the family could manage with our support and that no announcement should come from us as a school. Instead, when a family asked about the changes in Esme, I replied that we were seeing changes and supporting Esme to explore. When they asked if they should share anything with their child, I explained that we were using language such as “his heart and brain feel like this.”
Graduation Day
As summer ended, Esme was graduating from our program and headed to kindergarten. At graduation, she wore a sea-green dress and leggings. Her hair was a chin-length bob that she had been growing out since her first “dress day.” She was all smiles as she posed for pictures with her teacher and classmates. As she celebrated with her learning community, friends and family congratulated her.
Conclusion
Esme taught us something essential: a child exploring their gender does not have to be scary or hard. There may be many emotions and questions, but when the experience unfolds in an environment of responsiveness and inclusivity, a child can feel accepted and supported. For some children, exploring gender identity and expression may be isolated to a specific time period. For other children, like Esme, exploration may be a step toward a fuller expression of gender transition. The family felt supported by the program, and in turn, Esme was able to be who she was. We had no big meetings, conversations, or arguments. Instead, we had short discussions about our feelings, our brains, and our hearts. These conversations were part of our partnership with this family. Even if we all had questions, everyone felt that supporting Esme and giving her a safe place to be herself was more important than our adult brains needing to understand what she was going through.
Thinking back to the moment in the opening vignette, my concerns didn’t come to fruition. Instead, I discovered how strongly I want to make sure children are allowed to be who they are and learned that my teachers believe this along with me. As a result, I did not have to “convince” anyone that denying Esme’s exploration would undermine her sense of self and possibly cause long-lasting damage to her well-being.
I know that not every educator will feel as safe supporting a child to explore gender in the way we did and continue to. Yet, I’m reminded of this fact: “While these changes might be an adjustment for many of us, inaction poses risks to LGBTQIA+ youth and does not contribute to positive gender identities. In the past year, 42% of LGBTQIA+ youth reported considering suicide. LGBTQIA+ youth also reported that when their preferred gender pronouns and legal names were respected, they were much less likely to attempt suicide. LGBTQIA+ students report higher incidences of bullying, which affects their mental health and educational outcomes” (Kitzmiller & Overton 2021).
NAEYC’s foundational documents, such as the position statement on advancing equity, underscore respecting individuals, respecting diversity, and supporting the full inclusion of children; these help to guide my thinking each day as a director. The possibility of being responsible for a child’s self-rejection or self-harm in later years is not an option for me as an early educator. I am proud that we supported Esme and her family at the beginning of her gender exploration, and I now feel our school community has a pathway to do so again moving forward.
References
Kitzmiller, E., & L. Overton. 2021. “Opinion: As Children Develop Their Gender Identities, Educators and Families Must Support Them.” Barnard College News. June 1, 2021. https://barnard.edu/news/opinion-children-develop-their-gender-identities-educators-and-families-must-support-them
Martin, C.L., & D. Ruble. 2010. “Patterns of Gender Development.” Annual Review of Psychology 61: 353–381.
Siegel, D.J., & M. Hartzell. 2013. Parenting from the Inside Out: How a Deeper Self-Understanding Can Help You Raise Children Who Thrive: 10th Anniversary Edition. New York, NY: Tarcher/Penguin.
Solomon, J. 2016. “Gender Identity and Expression in the Early Childhood Classroom.” Young Children 71 (3):61– 72. https://www.naeyc.org/resources/pubs/yc/jul2016/gender-identity.
Alexandra Dutton, MA Ed, is the program director of a preschool in California and an instructor in the Early Education department at Diablo Valley College. She has previously written about emergent curriculum in preschools.