Collecting children’s voices is much more challenging than I had expected. There is an inherent rawness and unpredictability to their responses. Perhaps I am not sufficiently trained to understand their language. Which is why educators exist. I could create cultural content, but when it comes to children’s contexts, I find many messages from children seem overly complex and difficult to understand.
Sometimes, they are too profound to grasp the underlying meaning, and I sense my fear of opening it up. Untainted by the complexities and expectations of adulthood, children view the world through a lens of boundless curiosity and wonder. Their thoughts are raw, unfiltered, and individualised. Capturing this nature is no simple task.
Furthermore, the environment in which children grow up has significantly changed within the last decade. Digital advancements, shifting educational paradigms and a rapidly changing societal landscape all play a role in shaping their perspectives. Therefore, when we attempt to hear their voices, we’re not just aiming for words; we’re jumping into deep feelings, experiences and dreams.
This is where reality hit me, perhaps, with my initial assumptions. I assumed that an honest attempt, steeped in goodwill, would be satisfactory. However, children have taught me that simplicity and complexity can exist in a complex way. This has made me aware of the importance of patience, adaptability and, above all, genuine listening. These are the keys to truly understanding and responding to their world.
But then the question began to arise: can I really hear their voices? I already have a bias of experience and inferences based on personal memory. Someone once told me that it is ignorant to think that children are exceptional individuals who will repeat the lives of their parents and not be much different. Therefore, is the belief that children possess boundless potential nothing more than a marketing tactic exploited in the already commercialised education industry?