Dear teachers: What are we really teaching our children?

We teach phonics.

We teach shapes.

We sing songs about weather and feelings.

We read stories about friendship and farm animals.

And that’s all good. Necessary, even.

But every now and then, I think we need to pause and ask ourselves the uncomfortable question: What are we really teaching our children?

I don’t mean what’s on the whiteboard or in the lesson plan. I mean the silent lessons. The ones hidden in our tone, our routine, our choices, and the culture we create in our classrooms. Because let’s be honest - children learn far more from what we model than what we say!

In the early years, children absorb the world like sponges. They don’t just copy our words - they mirror our attitudes, values, and priorities. So when a child sees that kindness earns your attention, they learn that kindness matters. When a child sees you handle chaos with a calm demeanour, they learn that emotions don’t need to lead us. When a child watches you apologise when you’re wrong, they learn humility and responsibility.

We might be teaching the letter “S,” but what they’re learning is: “My voice is heard here”, “Adults can be safe” and “Mistakes are okay”. These invisible lessons become part of their internal wiring. They shape how children see the world - and themselves - long after they’ve forgotten the song about sunny days.

In today’s world, identity is being handed to children as something they have to create from scratch, rather than something rooted, discovered, or affirmed. As educators (especially in early years), we have a responsibility to help children build a sense of security in who they are. This shouldn't be based on performance, preferences, or popularity…but on the quiet message: you are valuable just for being you. You don’t need to preach to teach values. The way you manage snack time, resolve conflict or greet a parent is already shaping someone’s worldview subconsciously.

The question “What are we really teaching our children?” isn’t meant to shame. It’s an invitation to reflect. Because the truth is, it’s easy to slip into routine. To focus on targets and timetables. To think our job is just to “get them ready for the year above.” But our job is much bigger than that. We’re planting seeds. Seeds that may not bloom until years from now. So let’s choose what we plant with care!

Let’s be intentional - with our words, our culture, and our presence.

Let’s teach peace when the world is loud.

Let’s teach patience when the system rushes.

Let’s teach truth, structure, and joy...because these are the lessons that will last for many years to come!

If this spoke to you - whether you're an early-years educator, a TA, a parent, or just someone who believes in doing better for our future generation - I hope you'll sit with this question this week: What am I really teaching today?