By Christine Pegorraro Schull, Sandra Peña, Sandra Casco, Sicili McCoy, June Bishop Gibbs, and Leslie La Croix
Early childhood educators do not grow in isolation. Rather, it is through community with others that they nurture their professional practice. This is particularly true as they develop strategies to advance equity and become anti-bias educators.
One way to develop community is through collaborative learning. This can occur in formal or informal settings. It’s important because it allows early childhood educators to keep current with the field’s ever-changing knowledge base.
Sandra Peña, Sandra Casco, Sicili McCoy, and June Bishop Gibbs (authors two through five) have all worked in the Arlington, Virginia, Public Schools’ extended day program. With scholarship support from the Virginia Department of Education and the Virginia Early Childhood Foundation, they joined a 26-member cohort to earn their associate degrees in early childhood development from Northern Virginia Community College. The cohort represented many cultures, languages, and lived experiences, which mirrored the region’s community of early childhood professionals. Over a span of four years, cohort members developed close relationships with their professors and each other as they met weekly to talk about course content.
One of the cohort’s classes focused on anti-bias pedagogy and working with families. This was taught by Christine Pegorraro Schull (author one) and included conversations with Leslie La Croix (author six) from George Mason University. That institution is a local transfer partner for early childhood associate degree students. The class examined how cohort members could incorporate identity, diversity, justice, and activism—the four goals of anti-bias education—into their settings. Its culminating activity was to examine where anti-bias practices emerged in the educators’ routines and instructional practices, materials and curriculum, and relationships and interactions.
In this article, we (the six authors) examine how cohort-based learning and intentional engagement with anti-bias education can foster professional growth among early childhood educators. Elevating the voices and experiences of the four extended day educators, we explore how learning in community deepened their professional practice, their capacity to guide children, and their connections with families.
As outlined in NAEYC’s advancing equity position statement, all children have the right to equitable learning opportunities that help them achieve their full potential. Early childhood educators are tasked with ensuring that each and every child flourishes and is celebrated for their individual contexts and strengths. Anti-bias education is a perspective and framework that can help with this.
In their book Anti-Bias Education for Young Children and Ourselves, authors Louise Derman-Sparks, Julie Olsen Edwards, and Catherine M. Goins outline four goals educators can work toward to prevent the harmful impacts of prejudice and bias (see “The Four Core Goals of Anti-Bias Education” below). This book is the foundation for Christine’s and Leslie’s work with early childhood education students, and it was particularly relevant to Sandra P., Sandra C., Sicili, and June as they earned their associate degrees. The extended day programs where they work draw from Arlington County’s 26 elementary schools, and the children and families served span a broad range of racial, ethnic, and linguistic backgrounds (see “What Is Extended Day?” below).
Christine and Leslie considered the cohort’s rich cultural diversity to be the most valuable resource influencing each educator’s learning space. Leaning on self-reflection and analysis, they designed their class to explore both teachers’ and families’ cultural contexts and assets. This included reflecting on life experiences and considering how various events, relationships, and circumstances connected to educators’ practices and expectations of children. Such a reflective process surfaced both the assets and potential biases that can influence a teacher’s interactions with children from diverse backgrounds.
While Sandra P., Sandra C., Sicili, and June talked about equity and quality practices frequently, this course prompted them to reflect more deeply on their growth as educators and the ways they could implement anti-bias practices more effectively. Following, each educator shares how she strategically integrated one of the four goals of anti-bias education in her extended day setting.
Extended day refers to the care and education provided for children before the school day begins and after it ends. It serves a vital function for children, their families, and the schools they are connected to.
In Arlington Public Schools, extended day educators provide both context and continuity of care. We greet children early in the morning and in the afternoon. We know their teachers and what the children are learning, so we can plan after-school activities that connect to lessons from the day. We see the children grow and change across multiple years—sometimes from one generation to the next. Former students are now parents of the children we serve. We are constantly learning new things about the children, their families, and ourselves.
—Sandra Peña, Sandra Casco, Sicili McCoy, and June Bishop Gibbs
Cultural representation matters. If a child does not feel seen, how will they be engaged in learning?
I (Sandra P.) am an assistant supervisor at Carlin Springs Elementary School, where I have worked in extended day for 11 years. Our program serves between 65 and 80 prekindergarten-to-grade-5 students each year. Children reflect the cultural and linguistic diversity of the Arlington Public School community, where over 90 percent identify as African American, Latino/a, Asian, or Native American.
In my coursework, I learned that children must see themselves reflected in their learning spaces. This is essential for building a strong sense of belonging. This understanding prompted me to reflect on our classroom’s reading corner. It had books and chairs and a few drawings from the children who used the space every day. But I wanted to redesign it to nurture children’s self-awareness, confidence, and positive social identities (part of anti-bias education’s first goal, identity). I also wanted to include families.
I created a cardboard tree as a backdrop to the book corner and attached pictures of children and families. I included quotes from children’s favorite storybooks and displayed educators’ family photos. My goal was to provide a sense of familiarity and inclusion: When children see themselves and their families reflected in our program, they feel loved, valued, and connected.
The children’s response to the redesigned reading corner has been enthusiastic. They see themselves, and they have a place where they can use their imaginations to learn about new ideas and experiences. For example, after reading a book about different family traditions and backgrounds, some children shared stories about their cultures. One child talked about making salteña, a traditional Bolivian food, with his grandmother; a child from El Salvador described celebrating the new year with family members. These conversations have helped children explore different groups of people, stories, and ideas. Through their shared connections, they’ve built meaningful relationships with each other and created a stronger sense of belonging.
This change has helped me understand and recognize the pride I take in both my Dominican heritage and my role as an educator. It has encouraged me to reflect on my teaching and the impact I can have on all students. I’m now more deliberate about recognizing and including the languages and cultures of every child and family. Our differences are our strengths.
I (Sandra C.) worked for six years in an extended day program at Oakridge Elementary, providing before- and after-school care for 80 to 90 elementary-age children from a variety of backgrounds. As I reflected on how we can embrace anti-bias goals in our everyday work, I focused on empathy (part of anti-bias education’s second goal, diversity). How could I help children recognize kindness in others? I did this in two ways.
First, I introduced a kindness jar. When children noticed someone being kind, I asked them to acknowledge it by writing a note or drawing a picture and putting it in the jar. For example, they might notice when a classmate helped clean up, invited someone to play, or comforted a friend who was having a hard day. At first, I would point out these positive interactions. But over time, I noticed the children becoming more aware of each other’s feelings and more willing to help and support one another.
I also read books to support children’s growing empathy. One was Just Ask! Be Different, Be Brave, Be You, by US Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor. This book talks about understanding each other’s unique traits, which promoted children’s empathic understanding of how bias can hurt others. This book gave even the youngest children language to describe when something is unfair. Students loved learning that we can all be invested in justice.
Even though I now work in a self-contained special education classroom, I still carry the lessons with me that I learned in the cohort and the extended day program. I make an effort to recognize acts of kindness, model empathy, and help children build positive relationships. Some of the most meaningful learning happens through everyday interactions.
It’s important to help children understand that fairness and empathy require us to consider different viewpoints and acknowledge the experiences of each individual. This is part of justice (anti-bias education’s third goal).
I (Sicili) supervise between 180 and 190 prekindergarten-to-grade-5 children at Glebe Elementary School. I have taught in the extended day program here for 10 years. Our classroom world map represents where children come from, and it has pushpins from nearly every part of the globe. Children and their families represent many languages, cultures, and traditions.
I noticed that I needed to have some purposeful conversations about acceptance, kindness, and inclusivity. I keyed these to the books we were reading. For example, when we read Acceptance Is My Superpower: A Children's Book About Diversity and Equality, by Alicia Ortego, a lot of the children could relate to being picked on because of their lunches or their hair. One of my students, Afi, was teased because of the okra stew he brought to lunch. The child who was teasing Afi stopped when I addressed the situation, but compliance is not enough. I needed to create a sense of community that would help Afi’s classmates honor his food choices.
I immediately started to think of ways to teach children about different cultures and how to acknowledge different experiences, especially different foods. I teamed with my principal and our school’s PTA to host an event to promote inclusivity of family practices and traditions. We promoted it by posting flyers around the school and reaching out to families via school communication and social media. They were invited to bring a dish that represented their country and to share other cultural traditions, such as music, dance, art, and attire.
Families and friends came, celebrated, and learned about different cultures. Children saw their families and peers celebrating each other. The child who teased Afi attended, and he shared his cultural traditions as well. The experience didn’t end there though: The next day, I facilitated a classroom conversation about the importance of valuing everyone’s different family traditions, and I could see that there was more acceptance—not just of Afi’s food, but of Afi himself.
It isn’t easy to navigate conflict with children, but it’s important to make sure we see our differences as strengths. This event continues, with more and more families participating, and I work to connect it with our program’s activities. It shows the community and our school’s commitment to inclusivity, global awareness, and justice.
I (June) have been working with children for more than 30 years. I am the supervisor at the Carlin Springs Elementary School extended day program. Our community has a large population of immigrant families who speak a home language other than English, such as Spanish, Amharic, Arabic, and Bengali. I work to build relationships with children and families and to give them confidence to act on their own behalf (anti-bias education’s fourth goal, activism).
I greet students by their names each day, making sure that I pronounce them correctly and with the utmost respect. I recognize a family’s loss or difficult moments by giving them a card of condolence and connecting them to county resources. I work in collaboration with our community coordinator to give fresh vegetables and fruit to families who need it. These actions allow me to gain families’ confidence and trust and to learn more about them. In this way, I can more effectively help children build relationships and find their own voices.
For me, activism means teaching the children strategies for speaking up for themselves and others and speaking out when something is unfair. But cultivating children’s confidence to do this takes time. Gabriel, for example, was a 5-year-old who had difficulties with social relationships. He struggled to speak up and express what he wanted. Instead of asking questions (“Can I play this game with you?”; “Can I have a turn?”), he would cry loudly. His classmates sometimes avoided playing with him because they anticipated his reactions to disappointment.
Helping Gabriel learn to advocate for himself required the entire learning community to work together. We began by embedding social and emotional learning into the classroom to help facilitate interactions and make room for a range of emotions. We role-played ways that Gabriel could ask for the things he wanted and needed and express himself when he felt something was unfair.
The children also needed to learn how to come to an agreement and how to move forward after experiencing conflict. As I worked with them, I realized that I had to consider their cultural contexts and adjust my teaching approaches: Some children worried that disagreeing or identifying something as unfair would be disrespectful. I had to guide them to understand that in our classroom, they have voices and choices.
Children need to know that they can speak up and ask questions in a respectful way. They need to know that they have the right to speak up when they are treated unfairly. These skills are necessary as they grow and become adults.
Children who attend extended day programs often have relationships with each other over years and across age groups—sometimes into adulthood. Knowing that I’m an important part of their story motivates me to show them how to take action and lead.
Having time to pause and unpack their thinking allowed Sandra P., Sandra C., Sicili, and June to surface many insights regarding how they intentionally work to develop identity, nurture diverse perspectives, promote justice-oriented mindsets, and strengthen activist voices. By leaning together into this challenging work, they strengthened their teaching, giving it greater intentionality, shape, and voice.
While these four professionals are extended day educators, their experiences have lessons for those who work in a variety of roles and settings. Among them:
Learning alongside others enhances professional growth. Sustained opportunities to learn and work together deepen educators’ commitment to anti-bias goals and clarify ways to support children to learn them.
Achieving anti-bias goals is an iterative act. Educators must continually adjust their practices as they understand children’s contexts.
Teaching children about identity, diversity, justice, and activism fosters enduring relationships.
Anti-bias education thrives in community. When early childhood educators share anti-bias practices, their network of committed participants expands to the voices of our youngest learners and families.
The authors would like to recognize the Virginia Department of Education, which administers the Virginia Early Educator Scholarship, and the Virginia Early Childhood Foundation Pathfinders Scholarship for supporting adult students’ educational journeys. Scholarships increase access to educational opportunities and support the professional growth and development of teachers in the field, resulting in a lasting impact on the quality of educational experiences shaping young minds and our communities.
Christine Pegorraro Schull, PhD, is a professor of early childhood development at Northern Virginia Community College in Alexandria, Virginia. cschull@nvcc.edu
Sandra Peña is the assistant supervisor of the extended day program for Arlington Public Schools in Virginia. sandra.pena@apsva.us
Sandra Casco is an instructional assistant in a special education classroom at Oakridge Elementary School. sandra.matamoros@apsva.us
Sicili McCoy is the supervisor of the extended day program at Glebe Elementary School in Arlington, Virginia. sicili.mccoy@apsva.us
June Bishop Gibbs is the supervisor of the extended day program at Carlin Springs Elementary School. june.gibbs@apsva.us
Leslie La Croix, PhD, is an associate professor of inclusive early childhood education at George Mason University.
This article supports the following NAEYC Early Learning Programs standards and topics.
Standard 2: Families and Community
Engaging in Reciprocal Partnerships with Families and Fostering Community Connections
Standard 8: Professionalism
Demonstrating Professionalism as Early Childhood Educators
Photographs: © courtesy of authors. Copyright © 2026 by the National Association for the Education of Young Children. See permissions and reprints online at NAEYC.org/resources/permissions.