The Empty Swing: How Moments of Waiting Encourage Empathy and Cultivate Cooperation
By Kelli Agnich, Teacher
This spring, I stood quietly by Center Room’s two belt swings, a tucked-away spot in our outdoor environment where many small but significant moments unfold. One morning, I not only witnessed the joy of children deep in their play but also glimpsed the profound social-emotional growth taking place among our 3-, 4-, and 5-year-olds.
Because there were just two swings, each time one became available, a child would eagerly run over. Then, instead of immediately climbing on, they would pause and ask, “Is this available?” Before I could even answer, a nearby child often stepped in, saying, “Oh! Jordyn has the next turn; do you know where she is?”
More often than not, the child would respond with enthusiasm: “I do! I’ll go get her!” Within moments, they proudly returned, leading Jordyn by the hand, excited to have contributed to the rhythm of the group. Other times, the waiting children would chant in sing-song unison, “JOR-DYN! It’s your turn!” before dispersing across the yard to find her—a playful quest to pass the time as they waited for their own turn.
In these exchanges, the children displayed more than courtesy; they demonstrated perspective-taking, problem-solving, empathy, and joyful community-building—all self-initiated and authentically felt.
This moment around the swings captures what we at Bing Nursery School recognize as foundational to early childhood education: Play is not just a backdrop for social-emotional learning but the primary stage upon which it unfolds. The belt swings aren’t merely invitations for the children to take turns; they invite children to care for one another, to honor spoken agreements, and to feel the pride that comes from supporting a peer.
The ability to pause and ask, “Is this available?” signals an awareness of others—a shift from a purely self-focused perspective to one that embraces the community. The joy many children expressed at helping peers find an available swing was just as powerful as the joy of swinging itself. In that small moment, children were not just waiting for a turn; they were weaving the fabric of trust, cooperation, and mutual respect.
These observations remind us that in thoughtfully prepared environments—where materials are few enough to require negotiation, and adults trust children to find solutions—children naturally rise to the occasion. They experience what it means to be part of a caring group, where everyone’s needs and voices matter.
The belt swings offered a simple yet profound invitation: to think beyond oneself, to offer help, to solve problems together. These are the moments that shape not only strong individuals, but strong communities as well.
As we frequently find at Bing, it is not the grand lessons or planned activities that most powerfully shape children’s growth, but the quiet spaces in between—the empty swing, the waiting child, the hand extended to bring a friend back to her turn.
Sometimes, the most important lessons we teach are those we trust children to discover on their own.