Pedagogist: Mary Kim*
Educators: Yolanda Bermejo, Andreea Luminita, Bella Baek, and Yong Jin Her
Children: Daisy, Kai, Dina, Jude, Hugh, Kian, Amy, Corey, and Zayne**
With support from ECPN leadership team – Meagan Montpetit & Veronica Pacini-Ketchabaw
This field note narrates how children, educators and a pedagogist engaged collaboratively with children’s interest in dinosaurs within an early years centre. The children’s fascination with dinosaurs, along with their vivid dialogues containing roaring, stomping and embodying the perceived strength of dinosaurs, shaped interactions in the classroom. The intensity of this engagement sometimes disrupted the normalized rhythm of the classroom. Rather than diminishing the intensity of the dialogues and playful engagements, we, as educators and pedagogists, chose to think about how we could engage them pedagogically.
Our aim was not to introduce dinosaurs through familiar activities like crafts, colouring or storybooks but to create space for thinking with dinosaurs beyond their typical representations in early childhood education. We wanted to take seriously how children’s fascination with dinosaurs shaped their ways of making sense of the world. Rather than assuming we already understood what children knew or why dinosaurs captivated them, we sought to create openings to think with them. We invited children to share their thoughts and theories in group discussions and drawing together. This approach fostered an inquiry-driven environment where knowledge was not simply transmitted but co-constructed through dialogue and experimentation. By engaging with dinosaurs in this way, we moved beyond static interpretations and into a space where children’s thinking could unfold in unpredictable and meaningful ways.
Dinosaurs matter here
As children gather around the table to draw and discuss dinosaurs, their ideas take shape through words, movement and sound. Zayne, unable to contain his excitement, suddenly stands up. Pressing his fingers together like claws, he darts back and forth around the table, demonstrating the speed of a raptor.
Zayne: “This is how raptor runs so fast. There are different kinds of raptors. They are roaring. It’s too loud.”
Dina: “T-Rex is a terrible dinosaur because he has a way loud voice too.” (Then she made a loud roaring sound as if she were a T-Rex.)
Mary: “I agree that he has a loud voice, but is he terrible because of his loud voice? Maybe that’s how he is talking. What do you think?”
Dina: “Sort of.” (She pauses.) “Yeah, sometimes I don’t want to speak quietly. Maybe he doesn’t want to talk quietly.”
A group of children gathers around the open table, coming and going as they work on their dinosaur drawings. Some children transform their drawings into puppets, staging elaborate battles where puppet dinosaurs fight and eat each other. Others combine their drawings with different materials—wooden blocks, a light table, and clear containers—dinosaurs move through the various areas of the room.
Daisy and Dina sit deep in conversation, flipping through a history book about dinosaurs. As Dina recounts a story about a meteor landing, Daisy adds her own theory, insisting there were two full meteors and that the dinosaurs needed help. Their excitement draws in other children, sparking further discussions about why dinosaurs might not exist anymore.
A group of children builds what they call a “dinosaur hospital.” Using wooden blocks, they construct examination rooms and test different symptoms on their dinosaur patients. This play continues over time, evolving as new children join and contribute their ideas.
The intensity of children’s engagement with dinosaurs shifts. Some children consistently return to the inquiry, while others engage more fluidly, moving in and out of conversations and play depending on their interests that day. We grow increasingly curious about how this inquiry might take shape in ways that welcome different modes of participation—whether through drawing, storytelling, dramatic play, or encounters with materials. Rather than treating interest in dinosaurs as an isolated interest belonging to certain children, we ask: How might dinosaurs invite an ongoing collective inquiry that unfolds in multiple ways and across different spaces?
As the inquiry with dinosaurs deepens, we gather regularly to reflect and extend our thinking about dinosaurs through drawing and conversation. Below, I share some of these dialogues, highlighting how children envision and revise their ideas about dinosaurs.
Dialogue 1: Drawing and sharing thoughts with dinosaur roars
Seated around a circular table, the children draw with coloured pencil crayons as dinosaur roars emanate from a Bluetooth speaker. In this lively shared space they narrate aloud and illustrate their dinosaur stories.
Mary: “What is happening here?”
Daisy: “A lot of dinosaurs move together. They are running.”
Mary: “Are they all the same size?”
Daisy: “Different. Some of them are babies.”
Mary: “What do all the different colours of dinosaur footprints mean?”
Daisy: “They are different types (of dinosaurs).”
Mary: “How are they running together here?”
Daisy: “Babies are stomping like this.” (She walks gently around the classroom to demonstrate.)
Mary: “How about giant dinosaurs?”
Daisy: “They are stomping like this.” (She stomps, lifting her knees high and landing her feet forcefully on the ground.)
Daisy continues acting out how dinosaurs move, emphasizing the differences in movement between small and large dinosaurs. Other children are gathered around the table with dinosaur sounds playing and pencil crayons scattered across the surface. Kai hesitates, unsure of what to draw, but everything shifts when he hears Daisy animatedly share her story a stomping dinosaur family. Inspired by her colourful drawing of stomping dinosaurs, Kai picks up his pencil and begins sketching. His drawing takes shape—a vibrant raptor family, complete with intricate details like sharp claws and tippy toes.
Kai: “This is the family of raptors. But they are fighting. They are eating another dinosaur. They are pulling it. Just like this one.” (He points to a photo on the wall that shows two of the same kind of raptor eating another type of dinosaur together.)
Through storytelling and drawing in a group, children had the opportunity to think together. They inspired each other and were influenced by each other’s ideas about dinosaurs.
Dialogue 2: Sharing thoughts with dinosaur props
The classroom holds a diverse collection of plastic dinosaurs in various sizes, colours and types. These props often become part of children’s play, combining with building blocks to create evolving stories. Dinosaurs take on different roles, becoming hospital patients, residents of houses, students in a school or exhibits in a museum.
Hugh: “I saw a hundred T-Rex eat a thousand people.”
Andreea: “Where?”
Hugh: “Just in Burnaby where I live. But they didn’t eat me or my mommy and daddy.”
Educator: “They just ate everybody else?”
Hugh: “The T-Rex was scared of my daddy and mommy.”
Educator: “But they weren’t scared of the other people?”
Hugh: “Yeah, he just ate them.”
Kian: “T-Rex is bad because he stomps. He has a big tummy, and he eats grasses, plants, meats and trees.”
Hugh: “Dinosaurs eating another dinosaur.” (He points to another dinosaur prop beside T-Rex.) “This one (raptor) will eat this one (pterodactyl), and this one (T-Rex) will eat this one (raptor). But the giant monster will eat all of them.”
Amy: “He can choke.”
Kian: “He will throw all dinosaurs out. But dinosaurs like to eat people.”
Dina: “He won’t eat us. But he is dangerous because his teeth are a little bit pointy.”
Kian: “He just likes to eat people.”
Rather than organizing activities around a monthly theme—a common practice in early childhood education in North America—educators and I co-create with children a more open environment where children’s theories and ideas are heard and respected, allowing diverse possibilities to emerge. Dialogue with children guides the direction of the dinosaur encounter. Through these collective exchanges, new ways of thinking and being take shape, highlighting the pedagogical significance of creating environments where curriculum develops relationally.
Dialogue 3: Block dinosaur
Three children have created figures using hollow wooden blocks with paper faces on them.
Dina: “I made my favourite dinosaur, red raptor.”
Daisy: “This is my dinosaur. There is a pipe on the back.”
Mary: “What is the name of this dinosaur?”
Daisy: “It’s in the book.”
She leads Mary to a table where a book about dinosaurs is open.
Daisy: “Here.”
Mary: “Wow, its name is quite difficult to pronounce. It’s called Parasaurolophus.”
Corey: “I also made it with Amy. But I wrote its name on it.”
Mary: “Why did you make this dinosaur?”
Dina: “Because I wanted to learn more about dinosaurs.”
Mary: “Oh, so you want to know more about this dinosaur?”
Dina: “Yeah, raptor.”
Daisy: “We sure can make this one again.”
Mary: “How did you make this?”
Dina: “I made a face first.”
Mary: “Then how did you make this body?”
Dina: “These are bone parts.”
Mary: “Why don’t we create a planning sheet for your dinosaur so that we can build it with your friends next time?”
Daisy: “Sure we can.”
Encounters with dinosaurs and opportunities to linger in dinosaur thinking weave through many parts of the day and the classroom, including free play and the block area. When the space is saturated with dinosaurs, children make connections across curriculum areas that are often treated as separate in early childhood settings. For example, the narratives and illustrations in the book centre enrich imaginative play and construction in the block area, creating a web of interconnected learning experiences.
Dialogue 4: Plan for making a dinosaur
Building on their earlier experience of creating large wooden block dinosaurs, a group of children gathers in the multi-purpose room to carefully plan a new dinosaur. They ask: How can we create a dinosaur based on this plan, and what materials will we need? While the group initially includes children who worked on the original block dinosaur project, it expands as they invite others to join their discussions and planning.
Using a photograph of their original creation for inspiration, the children explore design possibilities. They experiment with designing and creating dinosaur facial expressions to convey emotions, consider details like arm movement and sharp teeth for dynamism, and discuss colour palettes to enhance visual impact. Analyzing the shapes of different dinosaur body parts, they identify materials that will best support their construction plans.
As they collaborate, the group continuously revisits and refines their ideas. For example, when reviewing Corey’s plan, other children challenge him to clarify his design for the horn. Similarly, they suggest alternative designs for the sharp teeth on Dina’s red raptor. Together, they propose materials—such as paper, markers, scissors, glue, tape—to bring their ideas to life, actively sharing and building on one another’s suggestions throughout the process.
Daisy: “I will need paper and scissors. I will cut and draw dinosaurs.”
Mary: “What materials do you need for drawing?”
Daisy: “Scissors, Sharpie and crayon.”
Mary: “How will you make a dinosaur’s body?”
Daisy: “I will make it with a paper.”
Mary: “Will you need a block?”
Daisy: “Paper’s enough.”
Mary: “What else do you need? And how do you plan to place the paper on the body?”
Daisy: “Maybe glue.”
Corey: “No, no, tape it.”
Daisy: “Okay. Tape and glue.”
As children plan and construct additional dinosaurs, they collaboratively navigate the design process, fostering shared problem solving and creativity.
Dialogue 5: Make [our] raptor
The educators and I engage in detailed conversations with the children about the materials needed to construct their dinosaurs based on their plans. The children speculate on how to include specific details, such as teeth and facial features of different dinosaur species and the proportional sizing of limbs. We also explore the possibility of combining ideas from everyone’s designs to create a collaborative dinosaur.
Once the materials are gathered, the children begin constructing their dinosaurs, working together to navigate challenges as they arise. For example, when attempting to attach a coffee lid to represent a dinosaur’s eye, they realize that white glue is not strong enough to hold it in place, despite their persistent efforts. This leads to a discussion about alternative materials or adhesives that might work better, encouraging further problem solving and experimentation.
Amy & Corey: “Here.” (Amy puts a coffee lid on the top of the box while Corey puts another one on the front of the box.)
Educator: “You need to discuss it. Where do you want to place them on the box as its eyes?”
Amy & Corey: “This one.” “Here.”
They fill a coffee lid full of liquid glue.
Dina: “It will work because I fill the glue here.” She places it on the box, but it falls off.
Corey: “That one can’t work. We’ll use hot glue.”
Then Amy, Corey and Dina bring a coffee lid for the dinosaur eyes.
Corey: “No, it will be a nose.” (He points to Dina’s lid.)
Dina: “Yeah, mine is a nose. Put the hot glue here.”
Amy: “All by myself?”
Educator: “Yeah, I will help you. Don’t worry.”
As Amy, Corey, Dina and their educator, Andreea, engage in a lively discussion about the design of the dinosaur’s face, Zayne suddenly approaches the group, balancing two coffee lids in his hands, ready to contribute. He hesitates for a moment before offering an unexpected idea—adding ears to the raptor’s face as functional fins, allowing it to swim. His suggestion lingers in the air, prompting a brief silence as the other children exchange glances, their expressions shifting between surprise and curiosity.
Zayne: “I want to put ears here like a fin so it can swim.”
Amy: “No, you need to talk with us.”
Zayne: “But I want it.”
Amy breaks the silence, eager to explore the new addition to their design. However, as soon as she mentions it, Zayne’s expression changes—he looks uncomfortable, even a bit disappointed. Noticing this, Corey and Dina step in, trying to reassure him. They gently challenge the idea, explaining that raptors are not built for swimming and questioning whether fins are necessary.
Corey: “But it’s our dinosaur. I don’t think our dinosaur will swim.”
Dina: “Hmm, no ears.”
Throughout this process, children encounter moments when their construction plans do not work as expected. These challenges become opportunities for improvisation as they engage in collective discussion and problem solving to adapt their designs.
Dialogue 6: Stolen scales
As we continue adding materials to our box raptor, children and educators come together enthusiastically, placing dazzling scales on the boxes that sparkle under the classroom lights. The raptor takes on a vibrant, textured appearance with its newly added scales. However, an unexpected challenge arises when curious hands begin tugging at the carefully placed materials.
During my absence from the centre for a week, two curious children become particularly drawn to the raptor’s shimmering blue glass scales, a key feature of its design. Captivated by their sparkle, they decide to take a few pieces of glass home as treasures. When I return, it becomes clear that our raptor has lost all its striking blue scales, leaving it bare.
We gather as a group to reflect on what happened. The children share their thoughts, considering why the sparkling glass scales were so enticing. They suggest that choosing such eye-catching materials may have been a mistake and propose replacing them with more ordinary, less tempting stones. However, when we search the centre’s play yard for suitable replacements, we struggle to find rocks of the right size and shape.
We decide to seek help from the children’s families in gathering the necessary stones. Excited by the idea, the group works together with educators and me to draft a letter inviting families to join in this collaborative rock-collecting effort. Through this shared process, we hope to find the perfect stones to restore our beloved raptor’s scales once again.
Mary: “I noticed that most of the scales on the dinosaur are missing. What happened?”
Corey: “Yeah, some of us took them home.”
Daisy: “Some of the friends like to take the pretty ones, but some of the friends don’t want to keep all the nice ones.”
Amy: “It’s because they are too pretty.”
Mary: “So, what should we do?”
Corey: “Well, we can use a regular rock, and we can paint it. We can paint a real rock.”
Mary: “What size of rocks do we need?”
Kai: “I think we need a bit bigger rock.”
Dina: “No, I think a medium rock is good.”
Mary: “But the problem is, where can we find them? Can you collect some with your parents over the weekend?”
Dina: “That’s a good idea!”
Corey: “But we have to wash it. Because the dirt makes it dirty. The rock’s kind of dirty.”
Hugh: “In my house, there are full of rocks.”
In our ongoing dinosaur inquiry, we encounter dissent, challenges and obstacles that become integral to our curriculum process. Rather than dismissing or avoiding difficulties, we engage with them collectively, recognizing the valuable opportunities they offer. While these challenges sometimes introduce tension, they also create space for problem solving, negotiation and the practice of democratic processes.
A recent group discussion highlights this approach as we address the issue of children taking the shiny glass scales from the classroom’s dinosaur sculpture, altering its original design. This moment sparks collaborative problem solving; children and educators engage in meaningful dialogue, consider multiple perspectives and work together to find a solution. Instead of seeking consensus, we foster a space where differing viewpoints are respected and decisions are negotiated. By embracing these challenges, we transform potential conflicts into opportunities for learning, demonstrating that true collaboration thrives on diversity of thought and collective engagement.
In this inquiry, children engaged with dinosaurs through embodied play, storytelling and material explorations.
They embraced uncertainty, welcomed divergent ideas and responded to moments of tension as opportunities for collective thinking. Challenges, such as disagreements over design choices or the unexpected disappearance of the raptor’s scales, were generative openings for dialogue, negotiation and reimagining possibilities. The children collaboratively made sense of the world.
*As a pedagogist, Mary collaborates with educators and children in early years programs in New Westminster and Burnaby, on the unceded traditional territories of the Coast Salish peoples, including the Tsleil-Waututh, Squamish, Kwikwetlem, Qayqayt, and Musqueam Nations. Her work challenges the dominance of a singular truth, including how developmental theory continues to shape how a truth about childhoods in BC. Intentionally disrupting the narrative of developmentalism, Mary grapples with creating spaces for various possibilities and multiple perspectives and ways of knowing.
**All children’s names are pseudonyms