Four-year-old Meadow understands democracy in a way many adults don’t.
I saw it come alive one sunny day as Meadow and her kindergarten classmates gathered outside the school. Sidewalk chalk or bubble wands in hand, they were celebrating the past few weeks of learning—a plan they had discussed and voted on together.
But it wasn’t the vote that struck me. It was how Meadow lived democracy—in the way she interacted with others, embraced challenges, and stayed curious about the world around her.
Picture the joyful chaos of twenty-two children, ages 4 to 6, running, drawing, chasing bubbles, and experimenting with wind using long rainbow flags. Amid all this energy, Meadow waited patiently for her turn with the bubbles. She stepped aside so others could go first. When her bubble wand got stuck in the container, she calmly asked for help. She trusted that someone else might have a solution.
She was open, collaborative, and hopeful.
Meadow noticed how others used the rainbow flags and asked another child for a turn. Then she tried it herself—running, twirling, wrapping the flag around her like a cape—while carefully avoiding the chalk drawings and respecting others’ play. She was fully in the moment, but never at the expense of those around her.
And then, Meadow looked beyond the play.
At the edge of the cemented area, spring was quietly awakening. Meadow’s attention turned to the natural world. Together, we bent down to smell mint leaves, rubbed between our fingers. We wondered about dry spiky plants—were they once flowers? Could they be holding seeds? We found a single tulip bud pushing through gravel and imagined what colour it might be when it blossomed.
Our quiet curiosity drew other children in. Soon we were all gazing upward, marveling at a red maple tree crowned with deep red blossoms against the blue sky. The children stood still—spellbound, respectful, in awe. Democracy, I realized, wasn’t just about decision-making. It was about noticing, sharing, including, and wondering—together.
Educator and author Suzanne Axelsson, in her work Original Learning, suggests we rethink how we engage young children in democracy. Teaching them to vote shows them a democratic structure—but doesn’t always help them feel the richness of democratic life.
In her recent post, The Democracy of Play (May 5, 2025), Axelsson offers a different view: that play itself is a powerful gateway to experiencing democracy. Through play, children explore and develop essential democratic values. These include:
- Care and compassion – Caring for themselves and others
- Freedom – Enjoying their rights without infringing on others
- Respect – Valuing different perspectives
- Responsibility – Owning their actions and understanding that rights come with duties
- Understanding, acceptance, inclusion – Welcoming diversity and ensuring everyone feels seen
- Influence – Listening and being heard
- Participation – Engaging in ways that are meaningful to them
- Belonging – Helping to create a space where everyone feels at home
I saw all of these values in Meadow that day. In her actions. In her curiosity. In her relationships with others and with nature.
Meadow gives me hope.
As I write this, Canada’s newly elected Prime Minister, Mark Carney, is in the United States meeting with President Trump. It reminds me how fragile democracy can be. It depends on us—not just our leaders—to nurture a world built on respect, compassion, and shared responsibility. It’s a world where the rights and potential of both humans and the more-than-human world must guide our choices.
And it begins, perhaps, with how we play.
Ready to explore how play can nurture democracy in your early learning setting?
Our online course, Democratic Spaces for Early Learning, features practical strategies and powerful reflections from Suzanne Axelsson. You’ll find inspiration to create inclusive, participatory, and deeply respectful environments for young children.