I’m just going to say what every educator is shouting for: give us time and a budget.
I can stand in front of a room of educators and talk about why Aboriginal perspectives belong in everyday practice. I can share examples, answer questions and recommend resources. Often, the people in that room are already convinced. They want to do the work well.
Then they return to a service where every planning period is spoken for, the team is stretched, and there is no money to buy a book, pay a local knowledge holder or visit a place they want the children to learn about.
At that point, another presentation about why this matters may not be the resource they need.
For Pete’s sake, give them time and a budget.
Professional learning can open a door. It can build confidence and help educators recognise practices they need to change. But educators’ work is complex. They are building relationships, responding to children’s ideas and needs, designing curriculum, assessing learning, working with families and making countless thoughtful decisions throughout the day. Professional learning cannot create the time for a team to research, plan, reflect and put new ideas into practice. A list of ideas is only useful if someone has the capacity to follow it up.
When I ask educators why something we discussed has not happened yet, the answer is rarely, “We don’t care.” More often it is, “We haven’t had time to sit down together,” or “We don’t have a budget for that.” We should take those answers seriously.
Think about what meaningful local learning asks of a team. Educators might need to learn whose Country their service is on, find out which organisations or community events they can connect with, build a relationship before asking for anything, review the books they already own, and consider how those connections might shape the program. None of that happens well in the five minutes left at the end of a staff meeting.
And relationships should never be treated as a free resource. If a service invites an Aboriginal artist, educator or knowledge holder to share their expertise, that work needs to be discussed respectfully and paid for. If leaders want educators to source quality books, materials or experiences, those costs need to appear in the budget.
This does not mean every service needs a large new allocation. It means leaders need to make the commitment visible in practical decisions. Roster paid planning time. Set aside money for resources and community expertise. Give educators time to attend local events and come back to discuss what they learnt. Make space at team meetings to decide on one next step, assign responsibility and follow it through.
It also means being honest about the question we ask after professional development. Instead of asking, “Did the educators enjoy the session?” ask, “What will they need to put this into practice?” If the answer is time together, access to community expertise or funds for materials, another webinar alone will not solve the problem.
And as we move towards election time, this conversation cannot stop at the service door. How we vote matters. We need to ask every party and candidate what they will do to fund early childhood education properly. Will their commitments give services the staffing, paid planning time and resources educators need? Will they support meaningful engagement with Aboriginal communities? Educators cannot keep being told to do more with less and then be blamed when they cannot make everything happen.
I love working with educators who are curious and ready to learn. I will happily keep sharing what I know. But I cannot spoon-feed a team into having the hours, relationships and resources their service has not made available to them.
If we want Aboriginal perspectives embedded in everyday practice, we have to resource the everyday work. Give educators the chance to move beyond knowing what matters and actually do something with that knowledge.
Give them time. Give them a budget. Then see what they can build.
