A conversation I have with educators time and time again goes something like this:
"I know this child needs more play... but they're on three intervention groups."
And every time, it makes me stop and think.
After more than 20 years working in Early Years education, leading a school from inadequate to outstanding, supporting hundreds of settings and studying Scandinavian approaches to childhood, I've noticed something that doesn't sit comfortably with me.
The children who are struggling the most are often the children spending the least amount of time playing.
The very thing that could support their language, confidence, wellbeing, relationships and learning is often the first thing taken away.
If you've ever looked at your intervention list and felt your heart sink, you're not alone.
Phonics group.
Fine motor intervention.
Speech and language support.
A catch-up maths activity.
Another phonics recap.
And before you know it, a child's day has become a series of adult-directed sessions.
Meanwhile, everyone else is building dens, creating stories, exploring outdoors, negotiating friendships and becoming deeply immersed in play.
I remember feeling uncomfortable with this when I taught Reception.
If a child hadn't grasped something during the phonics lesson that morning, I was often expected to repeat it again in the afternoon.
Then there were the flashcards.
The constant revisiting of sounds and words.
Sometimes even during lunchtime.
Looking back now, I often think:
How would that feel as a child?
To spend your lunchtime working on the thing you already find difficult, instead of chatting to friends, exploring outdoors or simply enjoying a break.
Of course, the intention was always positive.
Everyone wanted those children to succeed.
But sometimes good intentions don't always lead to the outcomes we hope for.
There was one little girl who completely changed the way I thought about intervention.
Indoors, she barely spoke.
She had been identified for speech and language support and spent much of her week being withdrawn from play for additional sessions.
On paper, it made sense.
But then we went into the woodland.
And everything changed.
Suddenly she was chatting.
Exploring.
Asking questions.
Using new vocabulary.
Initiating conversations.
Laughing.
Telling stories.
The child we were desperately trying to reach indoors appeared effortlessly outside.
She wasn't lacking language.
She was lacking the conditions she needed to use it.
That experience stayed with me.
Because it reminded me of something powerful:
Play isn't what happens when learning is finished.
Play is where learning happens.
The more I've studied Scandinavian approaches to childhood, the more I've questioned some of our assumptions around intervention.
In countries such as Denmark, Sweden and Finland, children are not routinely removed from meaningful play experiences to spend large portions of their day catching up.
Instead, play itself is viewed as the foundation.
The intervention.
The vehicle through which development happens.
Through:
✨ movement
✨ storytelling
✨ songs and rhymes
✨ rich conversations
✨ long periods of uninterrupted play
✨ daily experiences outdoors
Children develop the skills that underpin everything else.
Language.
Communication.
Executive function.
Self-regulation.
Physical development.
Confidence.
Resilience.
And ultimately, their readiness for later academic learning.
Without pressure.
Without constant correction.
Without losing the joy that makes children want to learn in the first place.
Sometimes I wonder if we've become so focused on closing gaps that we've forgotten to ask why those gaps exist in the first place.
What if the answer isn't more intervention?
What if the answer is more movement?
More connection?
More time outdoors?
More opportunities to play deeply and meaningfully?
What if play wasn't something children earned after their work was finished?
What if play was the work?
Because when children are exploring, building, negotiating, imagining, creating and wondering, they aren't stepping away from learning.
They're immersed in it.
This question sits at the heart of so much of the work I do.
Because over the years, I've seen what happens when we stop asking, "How can we make children do more?" and start asking, "What do children actually need?"
That's exactly what I explore in my free training.
In this free session, I'll share:
✨ Why some of our most common approaches to behaviour and learning aren't working as well as we'd hoped
✨ What Scandinavian countries do differently
✨ How play, connection and wellbeing create the foundations for learning
✨ Practical changes you can make immediately in your setting
If you've ever felt torn between what children need and what the system expects, I think you'll find it incredibly reassuring.
👉 Join the free training here: Take the training here for free
Because perhaps the children who need intervention the most don't need more programmes.
Perhaps they need more of what childhood was always designed to offer.
Time.
Connection.
Movement.
Play.
And adults brave enough to protect it. 🤍
Have you tried my FREE Introduction to Hygge Training yet?