The training in Barira did not begin perfectly—and that was exactly how the story of inclusion unfolded.
Power interruptions delayed the start of the program, and without a sound system, participants gathered quietly, then confidently, to sing the national anthem and offer a prayer together. What could have been a setback instead became the first lesson of the training: learning continues when people choose to move forward together.
As educators settled into the space, Project PAGSIBOL—Providing Access to Growth, Safety, and Inclusive Beginnings of Learning—was introduced as more than a program, but a shared journey. Through the guidance of the Inclusion Initiative (IAMYOU) and The Teacher’s Gallery (TTG), participants were invited to reflect on their roles not just as teachers, but as builders of classrooms where every child belongs.
One of the earliest moments that sparked reflection was a simple drawing activity. Teachers were grouped and given different instructions—some had to use their non-dominant hand, others had to cover one eye, some relied only on listening, while others were given complete freedom. The task was the same, but the experiences were not. Frustration, creativity, enjoyment, and limitation surfaced in unexpected ways. Laughter filled the room, followed by thoughtful silence. In that moment, inclusion stopped being a theory and became something deeply felt.
Throughout the training, learning was intentionally hands-on. Teachers moved through activities that mirrored how children experience the world—through play, movement, repetition, and discovery. In circle time, participants found joy in shared routines. In storytelling, they practiced giving life to words, learning how voice, pacing, and thoughtful questions can connect stories to children’s real experiences. They were reminded that simplicity is powerful, especially for young learners.
One of the most memorable moments came during color exploration. With only water, cups, and food coloring, teachers watched primary colors slowly transform into new shades. Gasps and smiles filled the room as blue and yellow turned unmistakably green. It was a small experiment, but it carried a big realization: wonder does not require expensive materials—only curiosity and opportunity.
That realization deepened during the playdough activities. As flour, salt, oil, warm water, and color were mixed by hand, the room came alive with laughter and excitement. Teachers compared textures, shared discoveries, and proudly showed one another the playdough they had created. Later, working in groups, they used the same playdough to build villages—each one reflecting creativity, community, and purpose. For many, it was a moment of clarity: meaningful learning is possible even when resources are limited.
Practical life activities brought the focus back to everyday skills that often go unnoticed. Pouring, buttoning, lacing, and fastening became opportunities to talk about independence, dignity, and confidence in young children. When teachers were asked to create their own dressing frames using available materials, they did so eagerly—already imagining how these simple tools would be used in their own classrooms.
The training also created space for understanding children’s emotions and sensory experiences. A live demonstration with a young learner showed how children communicate comfort and discomfort through their senses—through touch, taste, movement, and texture. Watching a child respond honestly reminded participants that behavior is communication, and sensitivity is key to inclusive teaching.
Learning extended beyond the walls of the venue. During an outdoor sensory walk, teachers slowed down to observe textures, scents, and details in their surroundings. They returned with sketches and reflections, seeing familiar environments through new eyes—just as children do every day.
As the training progressed, conversations naturally shifted toward deeper topics: how to observe perceptual skills, how to break down tasks for learners who need more support, how nutrition affects learning, and how respect for cultural and religious differences must be present even in early childhood classrooms. These discussions reinforced a shared belief: inclusion is not a single strategy, but a mindset woven into every aspect of teaching.
By the end of the training, what remained was not just a collection of strategies, but a sense of empowerment. Teachers left with practical tools, renewed confidence, and the reassurance that inclusive education is possible—starting with what they already have, where they already are.
In Barira, Project PAGSIBOL did more than deliver a training. It reminded educators that inclusive beginnings grow from patience, creativity, and the willingness to see every child—and every challenge—as an opportunity to learn.