By Zachary Price and Stephanie M. Moody
Ms. Rivera, a pre-K teacher, is conducting a small group phonics activity where children are matching beginning sounds to letters. She holds up a picture of a rainbow-swirl lollipop.
Ms. Rivera: Where does this picture go?
A child, Laila, points to /r/.
Ms. Rivera: Huh? No, it’s a lollipop. /l/. So where does it go?Laila points to the /l/ category and looks away. She seems frustrated.
In the opening vignette, the picture was intended to represent the /l/ sound. But when Laila saw the rainbow swirl of the lollipop, she thought the word was rainbow and responded with that in mind. Ms. Rivera registered this as a mistake and guided Laila to the “right” answer.
What happened between the two was a communicative mismatch, in which a child’s response makes sense based on their own experience but is interpreted as a mistake without exploring why. Early childhood educators can overcome communicative mismatches by using the practice of deep listening, which describes a way of interacting with children that prioritizes understanding over evaluation and relationships over right answers.
Deep listening involves a shift in instructional interactions. On the one hand, studies have shown that teachers tend to ask a question, hear a child’s answer, evaluate whether this is correct, then move on. On the other hand, research consistently shows that when children know their ideas will be heard and taken seriously, they engage more deeply and take more risks as learners. Really attending to what a child is trying to convey, whether through gesture, silence, or an unexpected answer, is one of the most important things an early childhood teacher can do.
Shifting to deep listening is also an area for reflection that can be guided by mentoring. This kind of mentored reflection aligns with NAEYC’s “Professional Standards and Competencies for Early Childhood Educators,” particularly Standard 6, which calls on educators to engage in ongoing learning and reflective practice as essential to their daily work with children.
We (the authors) are both early childhood faculty at Towson University in Towson, Maryland, and previously early childhood classroom teachers (birth to grade 3). Our work supports educators across the early childhood continuum, from those entering the field to those deepening their practice. In our experiences, professional development through mentors, instructional coaches, and program or school leaders offers a unique avenue to support this shift toward deep listening. When planned intentionally, it can help a teacher examine their interactions with children and ask what happened and what could happen differently.
In this article, we show how, with professional support, a teacher can grow in deep listening. We present a framework to guide teachers through identifying communicative mismatches, understanding children’s logic, rehearsing future interactions, and reflecting on what occurs in the classroom. We do this in a way that educators working with children from infancy to third grade can easily implement it in their settings.
Ms. Rivera meets with her mentor, Beatriz, for their biweekly coaching session as part of her professional development plan. Earlier in the week, Beatriz reviewed a video clip of the lollipop/rainbow interaction.
Beatriz: Could you describe what you observe?
Ms. Rivera: She pointed to the wrong category. I corrected her and moved on.
Beatriz: Let’s look at that moment again. What was the most noticeable feature of that card?
Ms. Rivera: (pauses) The rainbow, I guess. It’s really colorful.
Beatriz: So if you were a 4-year-old and you saw that picture for the first time, what might you have noticed?
Ms. Rivera: (slowly responding) The rainbow. Oh. She wasn’t wrong. She was just looking at something different.
When a mentor sits with a teacher, they can look together for the mismatches: A child said something unexpected, a child went quiet, or a response seemed off topic, and the teacher moved past it. Documentation is important because it helps record how teachers approached situations, shows what their next steps were, and generates ideas about where to go from there. In the vignette, Ms. Rivera’s interaction with Laila was recorded, which allowed Beatriz to observe what happened and work toward shared understanding and interpretation with Ms. Rivera.
This step is generative, not evaluative. The mentor’s job is to create a space where it’s safe to slow down and wonder about interactions that felt confusing or unresolved. Instead of framing the mismatch as a problem, the mentor and teacher can view it as a learning opportunity. This kind of reflective inquiry builds Ms. Rivera’s capacity to notice and wonder, which is itself a form of professional growth.
Beatriz discusses with Ms. Rivera why Laila may have pointed to /r/.
Beatriz: What do you know about this child outside of school?
Ms. Rivera: She loves superheroes. Her mom mentioned it at conferences.
Beatriz: The card had a rainbow on it. What kinds of things in pop culture have rainbows that a 4-year-old who loves superheroes might know?
Ms. Rivera: Rainbow Dash? Or—wait—she might have been thinking of Rainbow Brite. Or just the color.
Beatriz: So there were at least two or three plausible things she could have been connecting to. What does that tell you about what you’d want to ask next time?
Ms. Rivera: I’d want to ask what she was thinking, not assume I already knew.
Once the mentor and teacher have named the mismatch, the next step is to make sense of it, building on what was surprising or new. The mentor can ask the teacher, “Given everything you know about this child, what could their response mean?” The goal is not to land on one correct interpretation. We’ve found it helpful to think about this through three lenses: What the child brings, what the teacher brings, and the role of culture.
Every child comes to the learning setting with funds of knowledge, or the experiences, relationships, stories, and knowledge from their home and community contexts that make them who they are. When a response seems off topic, it’s often anchored to something real in the child’s life.
Mentors can help teachers to think beyond what they know about a child’s academic skills. In the vignette, Beatriz helped Ms. Rivera see that what looked like an error was grounded in Laila’s real knowledge—a shift that only happened because Beatriz asked before assuming. What does this child love? What does their family talk about at home? What characters or stories are they excited by? When teachers intentionally consider what a child has said, they discover a window into the child’s way of thinking.
Educators can have assumptions about what a good or correct answer looks like based on their own experiences and backgrounds. After Beatriz prompted Ms. Rivera to think about Laila’s interests and out-of-school experiences, Ms. Rivera realized that she made some assumptions. A teacher can identify the filter they were using at a given moment, and they can work on setting it aside and engaging with what the child is telling them.
Children’s ways of communicating are shaped by their home and community contexts. The structure of a story, what counts as humor, or when it’s appropriate to speak varies across families and cultures. Taking culture into account is a key part of developmentally appropriate practice and enhances an educator’s approach to teaching and caring for young children. If a teacher does not consider these contexts, then they can misunderstand or misinterpret a child’s response.
Mentors can help teachers sit with their discomfort and find ways to learn more, whether that means having a family conversation, such as the one Ms. Rivera had with Laila’s mother, attending a community event, building community partnerships, or having ongoing communication with families. It can also mean staying curious longer than feels comfortable. By considering children’s interests and backgrounds, Ms. Rivera became a more culturally responsive and intentional professional.
With a clearer sense of why Laila responded the way she did, Beatriz and Ms. Rivera are ready to think about what Ms. Rivera could do differently—and to practice it.
Beatriz: Let’s try that moment again. I’ll be the child. Before you respond, take a moment to pause. (She holds up an imaginary card and points to /r/.)
Ms. Rivera: (deliberately pauses before responding) Hmm. I’m noticing you pointed to /r/. Can you tell me what you were thinking?
Beatriz: Rainbow.
Ms. Rivera: Yes! There is a rainbow in this picture. So you heard the /r/ in rainbow. Now look at the whole picture. What is the name of this thing?
Beatriz: Lollipop.
Ms. Rivera: And what sound does lollipop start with?
Beatriz: /l/!
Beatriz: (stepping out of role) Let’s reflect. You found out what the child was thinking, used that to scaffold to the target, and the child did the cognitive work. That’s the goal! Next time, remember to pause for a moment. Then try to understand what the child is thinking before asking your question, just like we practiced here. How does that sound?
Knowing what to say is very different from being able to say it in the moment. Rehearsal gives teachers a chance to practice new language in a low-stakes setting before they encounter it in the classroom. As Beatriz and Ms. Rivera do in the vignette, mentors and teachers can role-play the interaction and try out different responses, pause to reflect, and try again.
Rehearsal does a few things at once. It builds a repertoire of go-to phrases for following up on unexpected responses. It also makes visible the reflexes that are hardest to interrupt: The pull toward correction; the instinct to stay on pace with the flow of the activity. Some teachers find unscripted role-playing uncomfortable at first. Starting with a short, written script of possible responses can make it easier for an educator to habituate themselves until the new language feels more natural.
Researchers have found that the quality of the conversation after the rehearsal matters just as much as the rehearsal itself. In the vignette, Beatriz asked Ms. Rivera to try one new approach the next time she was working with a child during a small group literacy activity. Trying to change everything at once can be difficult; a small, focused target gives the teacher something concrete to keep in mind. Practicing new language in a safe space gave Ms. Rivera the confidence to try something different when it will matter most.
Here are some resources that explore the concept of deep listening in the early childhood classroom and beyond.
“Deep Listening as Bridge‐Building in School-Community Partnerships,” by Heather Greenhalgh-Spencer. Educational Theory, 2022. This article defines the term deep listening and identifies the key components of the concept. The author advocates for deep listening as a way to build bridges in a variety of contexts.
“A Dialogical Artmaking Space: Cultivating a Pedagogy of Listening in Early Childhood Art Education,” by Kwang Dae (Mitsy) Chung. Studies in Art Education, 2022. This article explores how a pedagogy of listening can take shape in early childhood settings, centering children’s voices and perspectives as essential to meaningful learning. Although grounded in art education, the principles can translate to other early childhood contexts.
“Feeling Heard: Inclusive Education, Transformative Learning, and Productive Struggle,” by Diana Murdoch and colleagues. Educational Theory, 2021. The authors propose a definition of quality education that features, at its core, positive teacher-learner relationships in which learners feel “heard.” It is more than just having their words listened to; it is about a deeper recognition that the learner’s unique qualities are valued and that their contributions are important.
Three days after the rehearsal session, Ms. Rivera runs the same initial-sounds activity with a different group. The card she holds up shows a large five-pointed star, rendered in bright gold with a gleaming white highlight at its upper left point and small sparkle marks radiating outward. These elements make it appear shiny. The target category is /st/, for star. Mateo points instead to the /sh/ category.
Ms. Rivera: (pausing for a beat) I see where you pointed. What were you thinking?
Mateo: It’s shiny.
Ms. Rivera: Yes, it is shiny. And shiny starts with /sh/. That makes sense. Now look at the whole picture. What do we call this shape?
Mateo: A star!
Ms. Rivera: A star. What sound does star start with?
Mateo: /st/!
Later, Beatriz and Ms. Rivera watch a recording of this interaction. This debrief moment is where professional learning solidifies—not just for this interaction, but for other teaching moments.
Beatriz: What did you do differently this time compared to the last time you ran this activity?
Ms. Rivera: I used what we talked about from our last meeting. I stopped for a moment to listen to what Mateo was saying, as you suggested.
Beatriz: How did he respond to that?
Ms. Rivera: He explained his thought process. I learned that he noticed what the star looked like, versus naming the object as a star. But that doesn’t mean he was wrong. The star was shiny.
Beatriz: Exactly. You listened to the child and showed that you were listening. You gained valuable information that helped you figure out what to do next.
After the lesson, the mentor and teacher should meet to talk through what happened. Beatriz named what Ms. Rivera had done—paused, listened, scaffolded—so that Ms. Rivera could see her own growth explicitly. Similarly, mentors can ask teachers to describe what they noticed, what felt different, and what was harder than expected. Then it is the mentor’s turn to add their perspective. If the interaction was recorded, watching a short clip together can be especially powerful. It’s much easier to see the moment of choice when the teacher is not in the middle of it. Naming it matters: Teachers who can articulate what they did differently are more likely to do it again.
The debrief is the pivot point of the entire cycle. It is where the teacher’s observations become explicit and where the mentor can reinforce the strategies that open space for the child’s thinking. It also leads to the educator’s growth as a professional. The cycle then begins again with new material.
This listening framework is not meant to be a checklist. In practice, the steps loop back on each other. For example, a debrief surfaces a new mismatch, a rehearsal reveals a gap in sensemaking, or an interaction with a child opens up a question that leads the teacher and mentor to another exploration. Each part of the cycle is an opportunity for the educator to reflect on their approach to teaching as well as for the mentor to support the educator’s career trajectory.
As someone who supports and guides educators, how do you build space for cycles of reflection with a teacher?
Which part of the process do you think will be most challenging for the teachers you work with, and why?
How do you work with educators to consider children’s home and community contexts? What is an instance when you helped an educator move from a misunderstanding to understanding?
Where in your existing coaching or professional development structure could this cycle fit? What would need to change to make space for it?
Zachary Price, PhD, is an assistant professor in the early childhood education department at Towson University in Towson, Maryland. zprice@towson.edu
Stephanie M. Moody, PhD, is an associate professor of early childhood education at Towson University in Towson, Maryland. smoody@towson.edu
This article supports the following NAEYC Early Learning Programs standards and topics.
Standard 8: Professionalism
Demonstrating Professionalism as Early Childhood Educators
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