One March afternoon, in a Social Skills Training session, in the Mędrki group, a simple question was asked. “What are you good at?”. The six-year-olds sitting in a circle fell silent. The first thing they did was look at one another — as if hoping a friend would answer. The second reaction: some giggled, others curled up, one little girl said quietly “in nothing”. Only after a longer pause — when the teacher waited, kept the silence, gave space — did the first answers begin to come. “I draw well.” “I run fast.” “I help the younger ones.” “I can already read.” “I have great fun.”
This moment is invaluable to a teacher. Because what happened in that brief stretch of silence is exactly what determines a Child’s whole later life. It is the moment when a five- or six-year-old stands before the question of their strengths — and has to face it. For the first time, but not the last. Because this question will keep returning in their life. At a job interview. Before applying to a school. In a conversation with a partner. In therapy, if there ever is one. In every meaningful moment of adulthood.
And how a Child learns to answer it today — will be the template by which they answer it later.
Why the question of strengths is so hard
In our culture there reigns a certain pattern that — though seemingly nice — in reality does harm, especially to children. The pattern says: “you must not boast about yourself”, “modesty is a virtue”, “whoever boasts is unpleasant”, “better that praise should come from others”. With the best of intentions we raise generation after generation in this spirit. The Polish version of this pattern is especially strong — history, religion, culture, all push us towards modesty.
Modesty is beautiful. But modesty and ignorance about oneself are two different things. A Child raised in the conviction that they must not say what they are good at grows up not as a modest person but as a person unaware of their own resources. And a person unaware of their own resources cannot use them. In adult life they face challenges — and they do not know what they actually have in their backpack. They do not know what they are good at. They do not know what they can lean on. This is one of the greatest sources of suffering in Polish adulthood — and one of the main reasons why we do this in preschool at all.
The second reason why the question of strengths is hard for a Child — is that the Child usually does not yet have the habit of observing themselves from the outside. A five-year-old lives inside themselves. The world is, for them, in the first person. The question “what are you good at?” requires the Child to do something developmental psychologists call “decentration” — stepping out of one’s own perspective and looking at oneself from the side. This is an ability that develops gradually and requires work. In our TUS we practise it systematically, step by step.
Strengths — what we mean
Here we want to be precise with you, because “strengths” is a concept easy to misunderstand. Some Parents, when we ask about their Child’s strengths, talk about achievements. “He passed his English exam.” “She won the swimming competition.” “He dances brilliantly at the dance club.” These are results. Strengths are something else.
A strength is an inner trait of the Child that makes certain things naturally easier for them. It might be patience. It might be curiosity about the world. It might be empathy towards younger ones. It might be the ability to listen. It might be perseverance. It might be a sense of humour. It might be precision. It might be courage. A strength does not have to be visible in any particular achievement — it may only manifest when the Child encounters a specific situation in which that trait is needed.
A Child who can recognise their strengths knows themselves. And knowing oneself is one of the hardest tasks in life. Most adults have not finished it even past fifty. We try to begin this with our Krasnoludki at the age of five. Because we know — from research, from observation, from experience — that the earlier a Child starts on this road, the further they go.
How we practise it
Our approach is very specific and very patient. We do not start with the question “what are you good at?”. This question is final, only after we have first built a vocabulary. The first exercises we do in the Mędrki and Elfy groups are observations of others. “What does your friend do well?”. “How did your group stand out yesterday?”. “What did Mr Handyman notice today in our work?”.
These are easier than questions about oneself. Because for a Child it is easier to notice that Marysia draws beautifully than that they themselves build great towers from blocks. Observations of others are the starting point. Slowly, step by step, we lead the Child’s attention from the peer back to themselves.
The second stage — the Child begins to say what they like to do. “I like to cook with Mum.” “I like to sing.” “I like to dress up and put on plays.” This is the bridge between observation and self-assessment. Because what a Child likes to do usually overlaps — though not always — with what they are good at. They like to draw, because their hands move easily. They like to help younger ones, because they have a natural carer in them. They like to tell stories, because they have imagination. Liking is the first signal that some strength exists.
The third stage — the highest, most beautiful, hardest. The Child names their strengths. “I am good at building towers from blocks, because I keep going for a long time, even when they fall down, and I try again.” This sentence from the mouth of a five-year-old is, in our view, priceless. Because it contains not only the strength (“perseverance”), but also the mechanism behind which the Child recognises it. This is a level of self-awareness many adults never reach.
Each of these stages takes time. Each is walked with the Child at their pace. Some Children enter them quickly, others need months. But for everyone who goes through this cycle the result is similar — durable, healthy, observation-based self-awareness.
What this gives the Child
A Child who knows what they are good at enters difficult situations differently from a Child who does not. That is the first, most important change.
Imagine a specific situation. First grade of primary school. The teacher asks the children to split into groups for a project. Two Children who in preschool were in our TUS and know they are good at certain specifics. The first says: “I draw well, so I can do the poster.” The second: “I tell stories well, so I can present it to the class.” These are two sentences that immediately change the dynamic of the whole group. A Child with awareness of their strengths joins in. Takes initiative. Suggests something specific. And does so from a sense of self-worth — not to show off, but so that the group does a good project.
Now the same, but without TUS. The Child sits silently. Waits for someone else to figure out what they should do. Or they ask, “I will help you with anything”. Or, in the worse scenario, they give up: “I am no good at anything, put me in any group”. These are the behaviours of a child without awareness of their own resources. The point is not that this child is worse. The point is that they cannot draw on themselves, because no one taught them.
The second change — resilience to failure. A Child who knows they are good at three things can more calmly endure failure in a fourth. Because they have something on which to rest their value. They are not reduced to zero when something does not work out. They can tell themselves: “today I failed at this, but yesterday I did that brilliantly”. This is the foundation of healthy adult psychology. Many adults who in therapy work on self-esteem are rebuilding precisely this mechanism — which could have been built in preschool, had it been attended to.
The third change — courage in the face of challenges. A Child who knows themselves takes attempts more boldly. Because they know that even if something fails, it does not mean they are bad. They know they are made of something. They can risk a new activity, a new club, a new friendship, a new school. Because even if something does not work, they will remain themselves — with the baggage of their strengths, ready for the next attempt.
Pitfalls we try to avoid
Working with the strengths of a Child has its traps. We list them honestly here, because you, as Parents, may meet them and it is worth understanding them.
The first trap — false praise. Telling a Child “great work” when it clearly was not is harmful. The Child sees the truth. They can tell when an adult speaks sincerely and when out of politeness. If you praise a Child in situations that do not warrant praise, in time the Child will stop trusting your praise altogether. And then even genuine praise will not reach them. This is one of the greatest traps of contemporary “positive” parenting.
The second trap — attributing to a Child strengths they do not have. A Child who hears that they are a “maths champion” but every week sees in class that they struggle with numbers — falls into a dissonance that destroys trust in adults. Better to notice that they are a “champion of patience” or a “champion of storytelling” — and build their self-confidence with that. Every Child is genuinely good at something. The trick is to notice it well.
The third trap — comparisons with other children. “You are good at reading, better than most of your classmates” — this sentence sounds positive, but works destructively. Because the Child begins to think their value depends on others being worse. When they meet someone better — they collapse. Better to phrase strengths absolutely, not relatively. “You are good at reading, because you remember quickly what you have read.” No comparisons.
The fourth trap — fixation on a single strength. A Child who keeps hearing they are “an artist” may, at a certain age, begin to rebel. Because they feel reduced to a single trait. Strengths are a whole fan — we want to discover that fan with the Child, not stop at one trait.
What a Parent can do at home
The first practice — daily observation. In a conversation with the Child, at the end of the day, you can ask: “What did you do well today?” Or: “What are you proud of today?” These questions are more important than “what did you like today?”, because they lead the Child into reflection about themselves, not only about the surrounding world. After a few months of such questions, the Child will start asking them of themselves. That is, for us, the greatest reward.
The second practice — naming the specific. When you see the Child has done something well, name it specifically. Not “bravo, great!” — but “I noticed that you very patiently built that tower, even though it collapsed twice.” A specific name of a trait stays in the Child’s head. A general “bravo” — stays in none. The Child, hearing “patiently”, learns that this trait matters to you and that you see it in them.
The third practice — telling family stories. One of the strongest sources of self-esteem in a Child is knowledge about their own family. Grandma was a teacher. Grandpa ran his own workshop. Mum is good at organising. Dad can fix anything. A Child who hears these stories begins to build a picture of themselves as someone from a line of capable people. This is stronger than it seems. Research shows that children who know their family history have higher self-esteem and cope better with difficulties in adult life.
The fourth practice — allowing choices. A Child who in the course of a day makes several of their own decisions — what to eat for second breakfast, what book to read before sleep, what shoes to put on in the morning — builds self-confidence differently from a Child whose day is fully planned by adults. Every small decision is training in self-trust. “I chose the red shoes and no one told me to. That was my decision.” This sounds banal, but for a five-year-old it is foundational.
What the Krasnoludki carry on
Many years ago, one of our former Krasnoludki, now grown up, wrote us a letter. She wrote that she remembered one moment from our preschool especially. She had once been standing over her artwork, dissatisfied with the result. One of our Pani came up, looked, and said: “I see you have chosen very unusual colours. That is your own thought. Hold on to that courage.” That moment, she wrote, accompanied her through her entire teenage and early adult life. When someone criticised her choices, when someone pressed for conformity, when she doubted herself — in the background she heard that voice: “Hold on to that courage. That is your own thought.”
This is the power we have in preschool. And which we try to use every day — not from a plan, not from a curriculum, but from specific moments in which the Child stands before themselves and asks who they are.
In our preschool we teach Children to love themselves. That is the simplest sentence with which we can sum up what we do. We teach them to love themselves — not selfishly, not egotistically, not in opposition to others. Simply themselves. Because a Child who loves themselves loves others better. A Child who is self-confident takes better care of the weaker. A Child who knows their strengths uses them more easily for the common good.
And this is the pedagogy in which we believe with our whole heart. And which — though it sounds simple — we will be building in our Krasnoludki through every day they spend with us.