I have always been curious about what supports deeper learning. Over the years, our professional development focused on recognising key learning, dispositions, and schemas, and this served us well. But I knew there was more to understand about funds of knowledge and working theories. I had watched webinars on these topics but had not grasped everything. When I sat down with Helen Hedges' book Children's Interests, Inquiries and Identities, it gave me the full picture. It also answered a question that ERO had raised across our centres: the need to make children's languages and cultures more visible in our curriculum and documentation. The two things connected. To make children's identities visible, we first need to deeply understand where their interests come from.
Early in my career, one of my mentors explained this with a simple example. She talked about an adult who goes to dancing classes. The surface interest is dancing. But the deeper motivations might be exercise, music, or socialising. When you understand the deeper motivations, you see the person differently.
It is the same with tamariki. A teacher might observe a child at the puzzle table and write a learning story about their interest in puzzles. That would be accurate but shallow. If the teacher looks deeper, she might notice that the child showed persistence, concentration, and determination to complete the puzzle. Suddenly that singular story becomes the starting point for a learning journey about who that child is as a learner, not just what they played with that day. The disposition of persistence will show up in other areas too, once you know to look for it.
When I was mentoring teachers, we called this "key learning," the learning that is truly important to the child, seen through patterns of repeated behaviour. Not the activity (playdough, sand, puzzles) but what the child is doing within it and across different contexts. A child who is "interested in playdough" might actually be cooking with the playdough, and cooking in the sandpit, and cooking in the home corner. The interest is not playdough. The interest is cooking. And the question that follows is: where does that come from?
This is where funds of knowledge deepened my understanding. I was introduced to the concept years ago through my mentors. They explained it with an example of a child whose dad was a rubbish truck driver, and the child's play reflected this. From that, I could recognise similar connections: three boys at one of our centres obsessed with lawnmowers because of their families' connection to machines, a grandmother who saw her own mother's sculpting in her grandchild's playdough, my son's passion for music linked to his grandfather and ten great-uncles who all played instruments. I knew these were funds of knowledge.
But Helen Hedges showed me that funds of knowledge is much broader than the strong, obvious connections. She defines children's interests as "children's spontaneous, self-motivated play, discussions, inquiry, and/or investigations that derive from their social and cultural experiences." All interests that arise from social and cultural experiences are funds of knowledge, not just the ones that jump out at you.
Her research found that children's interests were sparked by family-based knowledge across many areas: participation in household tasks like cooking and car maintenance, parents' occupations and leisure activities, parents' language and values, grandparents' interests and skills, what extended family and friends do, siblings' and cousins' activities, and holidays and community experiences. Our kaiako have definitely recognised some of these interests over the years without knowing the term funds of knowledge. But having these categories makes us more aware and intentional about what we look for. Every child walks through the door carrying a world of knowledge from their home and whānau. Our job is to find out what is in that world.
One of Helen Hedges' research examples has stayed with me. A child at the research centre enjoyed playing drums. The teachers could see the interest. But it was only after a home visit that they discovered the child's father was a drummer. Even the mother had not made the connection. When the father learned his son loved drumming at the centre, he bought drums as a birthday gift, which increased the child's confidence. The knowledge went both ways: the centre learned about the home, and the home learned about the centre.
In another example, when a teacher asked parents if they did any household maintenance, they said no. It was only when the teacher pointed to the curtains that they remembered: yes, they had hung those, and done several other projects, and their child had been involved in all of it. They had not mentioned it because they did not see it as valuable or worth talking about.
This is why a simple "tell us about your child" question on an enrolment form is not enough. Parents do not always realise that the everyday things they do at home are exactly the information kaiako need to understand their child's play and learning. A well-designed questionnaire based on these categories can open the door, and then ongoing conversations build the picture over time.
Helen Hedges takes this further with the concept of funds of identity. Funds of knowledge is about what exists in the family and community. Funds of identity is about which of those experiences become meaningful enough for the child to draw on in creating who they are. People develop interests, knowledge, and skills across many contexts. But individuals then draw on the experiences that have particular meaning for them to build their identities.
The child whose father is a drummer does not just play drums because he has seen his dad do it. Drumming has become part of who he is, part of how he sees himself in the world. That is identity being built through funds of knowledge. And whether or not that identity is recognised and supported in the centre depends on how well the kaiako know the child and their family.
Understanding funds of knowledge also changes how we think about our environment and curriculum. The resources we provide, the festivals we celebrate, the languages we use, these should reflect the children who are actually in the room, not a generic list of cultural events.
If a child's family celebrates Halloween and they bring artefacts to share, that is their culture being expressed. If families observe festivals or practices that are different from what the centre has planned, those deserve space too. Through the questionnaire and through conversation, we can learn what matters to each whānau and make sure it is visible at the centre.
This is also about providing a wide range of thoughtfully selected, culturally appropriate play activities. When children see their world reflected in the environment, they feel a sense of belonging. When they do not, something is missing.
There are times when funds of knowledge from home may include gendered views, such as "only mums cook." A child expressing this is reflecting their genuine home experience. We respect that while also gently offering a wider view through the environment, through books, and through the diversity of adults and roles that children see at the centre. It is a both/and, not an either/or.
Helen Hedges also acknowledges what she calls "dark" funds of knowledge, where children's play may reflect difficult realities from home. These situations require sensitivity and professional judgement, and kaiako need support when they encounter them.
At Our Kids, this is new territory for many of our kaiako. We have been strong in recognising dispositions and schemas for many years. But funds of knowledge gives us a deeper layer. It helps us understand not just what a child is doing, but why, and where it comes from. It connects directly to our strategic goal of making children's identity, language, and culture visible in our documentation and planning.
We are developing a whānau questionnaire based on Helen Hedges' funds of knowledge categories, designed to help us gather the kind of everyday information that parents might not think to share. It is a starting point for deeper conversations, not a one-off form.
And in Part Two, I will share how we recognise the learning that is happening within children's interests, through working theories, dispositions, and the fundamental questions that drive children's inquiries.
Reference: Hedges, H. (2022). Children's Interests, Inquiries and Identities. Routledge.
