As the director of Gan Shalom, I often find myself reflecting on the many hats we wear: parent, adult, and educator. We spend our days actively guiding our children—planning, exposing them to new experiences, and helping them build competence. This outward focus is vital, yet lately, I’ve been considering what happens when the focus turns inward.
When we, the adults, are navigating our own big feelings—the stress from work, tough news headlines, or family challenges—how do we cope? And how does our energy, our struggle, ripple outward and affect the young children who look to us for stability? We are their constant role models.
In our classrooms, we often encounter powerful emotions—a child’s sudden outburst, a difficult tantrum, or a quiet retreat into a “cocoon.” Instead of seeing these moments as obstacles, we approach them with the belief that every behavior has meaning. Our work as educators is to slow down, search for that meaning, and help the child articulate their needs. By creating a space where they feel safe and connected, we aim to empower them with the coping skills needed to become resilient and emotionally intelligent individuals.
This is the essence of Social-Emotional Learning (SEL) in our school. It’s woven into our daily rhythm through tools like calm corners and, most powerfully, through stories.
Children’s literature provides a gentle lens for exploring difficult emotions. Stories like Grumpy Monkey and The Rabbit Listened show us the simple gift of presence.
I’ve been drawn lately to Holdin Pott by Chandra Ghosh Ippen. The book speaks to the ways adults and children learn from each other. Holdin Pott is a pressure cooker, always on the stove top, managing different levels of heat. He learned to internalize his anger and sadness. Little Pott, trying to be like him, bursts. The beauty of the story lies in Holdin Pott’s shift: he steps into a teaching role, showing Little Pott how to release some steam, turn down the heat, and simply be by his side. The lasting takeaway from this and many other stories is the transformative power of connection and acceptance.
This intentional practice of holding space is not limited to our nursery school. I was recently reminded of this shared intention, or Kavanah, during Rabbi Jodie’s yoga session. In that communal, sacred space, practitioners are encouraged to find their center and allow themselves to be supported alongside others in community. It’s a profound reminder that we all need moments to acknowledge our discomfort and seek connection.
It’s challenging to manage our own needs—as an educator, parent, and Jewish person—while helping our children navigate theirs. Yet, in moments of struggle, we must remember the simple, profound power of connection. When a child is having a hard time, they need to know we are alongside them—ready to listen, validate their big feelings, and provide the safe space they need to struggle, grow, and ultimately, thrive.
May we all give ourselves grace and allow ourselves to “release some steam” when necessary, so we can remain truly present and connected for the little pots in our lives.
Adrienne Rosen
Gan Shalom Director
