Compliance is Not Readiness
What if movement, noise, and restlessness aren’t misbehaviors—but messages?
“We are not brains on sticks.” — James K.A. Smith
Dear Readers,
When my younger son was small, he moved constantly. Not in the restless, distracted sense, but in the alive, deeply embodied sense.
His body was his first language. He bounced while thinking, spun while listening, tucked himself under tables when things felt too loud or too much. We even installed a swing inside our home, right outside his room, because that helped him feel calm and even and helped him feel his heart beat. He received and sent messages with his whole self.
In preschool, I remember the notes from teachers about needing to, “move around less during lessons.” That language stuck with me.
It wasn’t unkind, but it was clear: his instincts, his very way of being in the world, were framed as something to be corrected. He wasn’t trying to hurt anyone. He was just trying to exist in a space that didn’t flex for him.
And yet, at home? He could focus while in motion. He could listen while upside down. He could build intricate games and tell rich stories (and still does), just not always from a chair.
When I read to him at night, he’d twist and somersault and whisper, “Just because I’m moving doesn’t mean I’m not listening.”
He was (and is) always in motion.
So why did school so often see his movement as the problem? I am still thinking about it, and have some ideas. Would love to hear yours.
Thanks for being here,
