On February 17, 2015, I wrote a simple Facebook post: a positive thought that came to me spontaneously. The next day, I wrote another, and before I knew it, these thoughts became a regular practice. I originally wrote these reflections for myself, a small act of encouragement to start each day with intention. But I shared them because I hoped they might resonate with someone else who needed them—or, at the very least, add a little light to someone’s feed.
Most of my career has been devoted to working with young children, and I’m deeply passionate about how they should be treated. Children, still untouched by the complexities of life, have an innate joy and wonder that I find grounding. Their excitement over the smallest things serves as a reminder of the beauty in life’s simple moments, if only we choose to see them. Yet working with children can also bring unique challenges. I once heard a speech that described early childhood educators as being “in-between”—we’re in between children and parents, families and staff, policy and practice, the idealism we were taught in college and the reality of day-to-day care. These dynamics eventually took their toll, and I stepped away from the field, hoping to find a new path.
That time away proved essential. I was struggling with my own spiritual identity and used this period to explore various modalities—Reiki, EFT Tapping, spiritual coaching, and other tools that helped me understand how people carry their pasts forward and the potential for healing in even the simplest gestures of self-compassion. This journey taught me how revisiting a past experience, and giving a younger version of myself a little hug or a word of encouragement, could provide the clarity I needed to move forward with grace.
Despite these explorations, I found myself drawn back to early childhood education. I missed the aspects that had first called me to the field—the joy, curiosity, and boundless potential of the children. I returned as a floor staff member, telling myself I would focus solely on my classroom. But this limited role wasn’t enough; I still found myself at odds with the gap between my vision for child care and the practices I observed. There was no “right” or “wrong,” but I knew I wanted to do things differently.
As I struggled with this, my father’s health declined. Spending time with him brought up memories of my own childhood, when my siblings, cousins, and I enjoyed a freedom to explore that feels rare today. We built forts, played hide and seek, swam in creeks, and organized games on our own. We learned negotiation, creativity, and a little bit of harmless mischief. When my father passed away, I knew I wanted to do something to honor him and those memories of adventurous play. So, I made a decision: I would use my inheritance to bring as much of that sense of wonder, freedom, and exploration to children today as I could.
That decision gave rise to Discovery & Adventure Zone Inc., a learning center for young children rooted in the Reggio Emilia philosophy. This approach sees children as competent learners, and it places us, the educators, as facilitators of an environment where learning happens naturally. My role, and that of my team, is to nurture a space where curiosity is encouraged, where children are invited to explore and grow.
As I embark on this journey, I feel a sense of clarity and purpose that I haven’t felt in years. I am stronger, more mindful, and more connected to my vision. Together with the right team, I believe we can create a world of possibilities for everyone involved. The journey is just beginning, and I am grateful for every step that led me here.
Rosetta Sanders
Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash