Abstract
The purpose of this case study was to investigate a segment of a data set collected as part of a larger ethnographic study exploring the early language and literacy practices of one unique preschool programme, selected for its unusually high outcomes for children in typically underserved populations. The original study explored administrators’ literacy leadership within the context of system-level funding and oversight inequities and inadequate local, state, and federal support. Analysis from the original study showed that their lofty commitment to a ‘twenty-five books a day’ mindset guided them in supporting teachers as they made books, stories, and language play a universal occurrence throughout the school day. This article, reporting on an extension of this original study, explores how school administrators operationalized this ‘twenty-five books a day’ mindset: prioritizing ample and consistent (1) access to high quality, diverse books, (2) both structured and impromptu, responsive literacy interactions, and (3) professional support for teachers.
Keywords
Experiences during the first five years of a child’s life form the foundation on which their lifelong literacy is built (e.g. National Research Council, 2012; Snow et al., 1998). Children who begin the Kindergarten year already behind their peers in language and literacy development tend to follow a slower trajectory of growth in reading, and this gap only widens as the school years progress. A large body of research has focused on closing this gap, which Stanovich (1986) coined ‘The Matthew Effect’. Among those most underserved are children living in poverty (e.g. National Early Literacy Panel (NELP), 2008).
While poverty presents considerable challenges at home, such as food scarcity and housing instability (Children’s Defense Fund, 2020), it also places children at heightened risk at school, particularly in terms of access to the types of early literacy experiences that map onto later school success (Barnett and Frede, 2011; Gonzalez et al., 2011). Under the current system, those most in need of early education programmes that would protect them from future risk are also those least likely to have access to these types of programmes (Bassok and Galdo, 2016; Ullrich et al., 2019). Clearly, the critical issue is not a gap in achievement, but in opportunity (e.g. Carter and Welner, 2013; Ladson-Billings, 2007; Wright, 2011).
Of all young children, those most affected by this opportunity gap may be children enrolled in subsidized childcare centres, where quality and accountability across states are highly variable, but generally low (Haynie, 2019; Marguerite Casey Foundation, 2015). A ‘subsidized childcare center’ is a privately owned and operated preschool programme that provides care and educational services to children from birth to five years of age, and contracts with state agencies to enrol children whose parents qualify for childcare subsidies. Qualifications differ by state regulations and definitions of poverty. Socioeconomic status is not the only risk factor at play in the preschool access issue, as children with disabilities and those for whom English is a second language face compounded challenges in enrolling in high quality programmes (Barton and Smith, 2015; Malik et al., 2018; National Association of Child Care Resource and Referral Agencies (NACCRRA), 2019). Why does high quality matter? First and foremost, it matters for young children’s quality of life. In the US, most children attend some form of out-of-home care during the first five years of life. It should be unthinkable to send any child to spend the day in dirty, chaotic, and/or unsafe environments; yet this is the reality for many who must work to provide for their children and who do not have access to a high-quality programme due to proximity, excessive cost, and other challenges beyond their control.
In early childhood research, the construct of quality is usually expressed in terms of structures (e.g adult–child ratios, health and safety requirements), processes (e.g. adult-child interactions, teaching behaviours), and outcomes (e.g. school readiness scores) (NICHD Early Childcare Research Network, 2002). The National Institute of Early Education Research (NIEER; Friedman-Krauss et al., 2019), has identified ten quality indicators for preschool programmes. They publish a yearly report disclosing the status of preschool systems in each state, including data such as the number of quality indicators evidenced, number of children served, and dollars spent per child. For the last decade, the state where this study was conducted was ranked in the bottom five states in the nation.
The good news is that providing all children with the types of language and literacy experiences that predict later reading and school success can actually shift the odds in their favour (Barnett and Frede, 2011; Gonzalez et al., 2011). Not only can high quality early childhood programmes prevent negative and promote positive outcomes, but Barnett and Masse (2007) report that for every dollar spent on early intervention, society actually saves seven dollars. Catching children early pays off for everyone.
The essential content of high impact language and literacy instruction prior to Kindergarten is well understood (NELP, 2008). Children must have adequate exposure to several pre-reading domains including letter knowledge, phonological awareness, concepts of print/book, and oral language. Yet, individual characteristics of children affect precisely how this content and instruction are best carried out. Highly skilled teachers are required for effective literacy practices to be routinely implemented in developmentally appropriate (Neuman, 2018), and culturally sustaining (Paris, 2012; Watanabe Kganetso, 2017) ways. Highly skilled teachers, unfortunately, are not the norm in subsidized childcare centres (e.g. Whitebook and Ryan, 2011), where funding inequities, capricious oversight, and inadequate teacher support are the norm (NACCRRA, 2019). Moreover, despite the importance of their job, most early care and education professionals report critically unsupportive and inhospitable work environments, economic uncertainty, housing and food insecurity, lack of access to healthcare, and even disproportionate incidents of clinical depression and other chronic stress-related health issues (Whitebook et al., 2014). Even compared to others in the general workforce with similar amounts of training, wages for this segment of the workforce have remained remarkably low, and generally comparable to fast-food workers. There is a meaningful mismatch in the types of training, compensation, and support early childhood educators receive and the lofty expectations placed upon them daily (e.g. Whitebook and Ryan, 2011).
The case study described in this article is an extension of a larger ethnographic work (Cheyney-Collante and Cheyney, 2018), set against this challenging backdrop. In the original study, I endeavoured to look more closely at how administrators of one exceptional subsidized childcare centre were able to lead their staff into better than predicted outcomes for the young children they serve. As such, I conceptualized this ethnography as an exploration of a single case as a positive outlier: a subsidized child care programme serving children and families in better than predicted ways. These ‘secret to my success’ studies (i.e. positive deviance studies; Pascale et al., 2010) provide a critical insider’s view into a phenomenon, and can be particularly useful in contexts where broad systemic change is needed but not forthcoming.
The original study of the identified case (Cheyney-Collante and Cheyney, 2018), the Downtown Early Learning Center (DELC; a pseudonym), explored the literacy leadership of the centre’s two administrators (Maria and Sophia, also pseudonyms) and how they overcame considerable barriers to effective practice. From this previous study emerged key themes elucidating how school leaders’ beliefs were translated into ongoing, effective adult-child language and literacy interactions. The most salient of these themes was the administrators’ commitment to a ‘twenty-five books a day’ mindset (defined in the next section), and how this paradigm guided them in supporting teachers to make books, stories, and language-play a universal occurrence throughout the school day. I felt this portion of the results warranted a deeper investigation, and thus I endeavoured to separately explore the following research question: How is a ‘twenty-five books a day’ strategy implemented at a highly effective subsidized childcare centre? In the following section I will provide the relevant particulars of the original study that led to this deeper exploration of the ‘twenty-five books a day’ theme. A timeline of methodological procedures for both will then be detailed in the Methods section.
The original study and emergence of “twenty-five books a day”
In the original study of DELC, analysis revealed three key themes that explained how administrators and teachers were able to ensure excellent literacy experiences and outcomes for children despite the challenges placed before them (Cheyney-Collante and Cheyney, 2018). First, Maria and Sophia saw their work as affected by persistent resource scarcity and low positionality within what they termed an ‘educational caste system’. Second, Maria and Sophia were able to leverage internal support (personal protective factors; Gilligan, 1977) in order to reach goals in their work even though external support (i.e. systems level assistance) was sparse and critically inadequate. Third, Maria and Sophia supported their teachers in effective language and literacy experiences by sustaining a climate of professional support for teachers in implementing a ‘twenty-five books a day’ guiding philosophy.
What is a ‘twenty-five books a day’ philosophy? Sophia coined the phrase to encourage staff to make literacy events ubiquitous throughout the school day, across all activities and age groups (Cheyney-Collante and Cheyney, 2018). Was the number 25 literal? Yes. However, teachers were encouraged to reach this goal in the context of myriad literacy interactions. Sofia described it in this way: … the goal isn’t to say okay, you’re going to sit here and I’m going to read my twenty-five books and then we’re going to (laughing) go do something else. The goal is that you can engage. Children can be involved in different activities and you can have children, two or three, you can have a whole group, you can take some books on the playground, you can take some books on the stroller ride, anywhere you go, you can do books.
Exactly how administrators and teachers at DELC operationalized this ‘twenty-five books a day’ goal is the subject of this extension to the original study.
Theoretical framework and researcher positionality
In order to conceptualize the types of language and literacy interactions I discussed with Sofia and Maria and that I observed at DELC, I borrow the term ‘literacy event’. The term was originally used by Shirley Brice Heath in her ethnographic literacy research (Heath, 1982). Brian Street later used the term liberally in his writing on New Literacy Studies (Street, 2013; Street and Martin-Jones, 2000), which questioned the notion of literacy as a purely autonomous performance of technical skills and repositioned literacy as irrevocably socially situated and dialogic (part of back and forth discussion). Here I use the term ‘literacy events’ in a purposefully ‘Streetian’ manner to emphasize the inherently interactional (social and dialogic) qualities of the language and literacy experiences observed at DELC. However, Street also acknowledged literacy’s inherent entrenchment in relations of power. Our first article about DELC (Cheyney-Collante and Cheyney, 2018) delves deep into the power structures inherent in the educational caste system of Maria and Sophia’s work. In short, they were very much subject to unfunded mandates for quality and outcomes for the children they serve. For example, students attending the state preschool programme were assessed three times per year and again as they entered Kindergarten, but these students were only funded for a few hours of instruction per day, with no provision for summer. Much was asked in terms of outcomes, though little support was provided for instructional time or quality. The childcare workforce is rarely (if ever) given an opportunity to participate in legislative decision-making. Maria and Sophia navigated this system by rejecting the supremacy of a purely outcomes-driven, school-readiness model, even while advocating that all children show up to Kindergarten on as level a playing field as possible. They rejected a dichotomous reading of their case and their goals. Though Maria and Sophia had no power over mandates, they executed literacy in their way. The ‘local particulars’ (Emerson, 2009) of what this looked like in real time are the subject of the current study.
In order to minimize the inbuilt tendency to exacerbate power differentials in social research (Clark, 2012), particularly in the study of the routinely marginalized childcare workforce, we (researcher and participants) conceptualized both the original study and this extension with purposeful consideration of theoretical underpinnings. Of the childcare workforce, Wright (2011) articulates, ‘the structure of the early childhood economy has also served to perpetuate gender, class, economic, and racial inequity upon women, specifically those who are non-White and belonging to low-income groups’ (p. 250). I openly discussed these challenges with my participants in our very first meeting, and in many thereafter. Together we articulated the goal of our research as a co-created process, where our place as women in society and the education system (though each very different) provided myriad lenses through which to interpret experience. Thus, the theoretical underpinnings of this study included a constructionist epistemology (Crotty, 1998) – the idea that our knowledge would be constructed through interactions with each other – and a critical feminist theoretical perspective (Kortge, 2012) – an acknowledgement that the power differentials inherent in childcare work are inextricable from gender (Wright, 2011). Guided by these lenses we chose participant driven methods (Koro-Ljungberg et al., 2015) for data collection and analysis (e.g. Gilligan et al., 2003; Latz, 2017), with peer debriefing and member checking (Lincoln and Guba, 1985). These methods were intended to privilege their voices over mine.
Methods
Methods employed in the original study
For the original study, I used purposeful sampling (Rapley, 2014) to identify an outlier subsidized childcare centre, that is, a program where excellent outcomes for high-risk children were the norm. I developed and implemented a nomination protocol aimed at identifying a regional subsidized childcare centre with strong evidence of overall programme quality and high literacy assessment data, that also served an economically-, culturally-, linguistically-, and ability- diverse population of young children (Cheyney-Collante and Cheyney, 2018). The selection criteria used for the nomination protocol included data points collected by regional and national agencies and accreditation bodies. I elicited nominations from the governing agency that oversaw monitoring and childcare subsidy dispersement. This agency returned with only one nomination: DELC. After receiving Institutional Review Board approval, I approached the programme’s two administrators with the opportunity to participate in the study. Research commenced after informed consent was secured from these key informants, Sofia and Maria (the programme’s executive and onsite directors, respectively). I spent five months embedded in their day to day preschool activities, in over 100 hours of participant observation (Schensul et al., 1999).
This original study employed participant-driven methods (Koro-Ljungberg et al., 2015), including the use of two photovoice cycles (Latz, 2017; Wang, 2006) for data collection. Photovoice is a method of qualitative research whereby participants are given cameras and asked to take pictures of day to day experiences that elucidate a phenomenon collaboratively identified for exploration. Photographs are then used as the starting point for individual, open-ended interviews using photo-elicitation (Rose, 2007). Participants work with the researcher to synthesize the results, and then choose ways to communicate their findings directly to their communities.
The final data set for the original study consisted of participant-observation notes, transcripts from five and a half hours of interviews, and 4,338 photographs (479 taken by Maria and Sofia). I analyzed transcripts and photographs together, using Gilligan and colleagues’ (2003) listening guide, which entailed four separate, systematic ‘listenings’ of the transcripts. Each listening further elucidated the participants’ unique story, lens, voice, and ultimately a meaningful synthesis. I modified these basic procedures by adding a fifth listening, which I termed Listening for Collaborative Visual Voice (Cheyney-Collante and Cheyney, 2018). In this last step, we (researcher and participants) co-created a photographic installation communicating the research findings to our communities (see Figure 1).

(a) ‘The Best of Me’ photographic installation. (b) ‘The Best of Me’ photographic installation.
Methods employed in the extension study
For a deeper exploration of the ‘twenty-five books a day’ theme, I identified an additional research goal – to describe the operationalization of the ‘twenty-five books a day’ paradigm – after a second photographic installation (exhibited at DELC in June 2013). Building on our original epistemological, theoretical, and methodological choices (Cheyney-Collante and Cheyney, 2018), I first returned to my participant-observation field notes in order to compile a basic timeline of how language and literacy events occur during a typical day. I then returned to the transcripts and photo archives and completed an additional listening of each, focusing attention on the new research question. Next, I aggregated these data points to compile a narrative of literacy events within a hypothetical day at the centre, as well as emic (participant) perspectives on how and why the various components of the ‘twenty-five books a day’ strategy was implemented in real time (e.g. Gubrium and Holstein, 2008; Tedlock, 2011).
I then returned to participants for member checking of findings. In this extension of the original study, I met with my participants twice to discuss my formative analysis. In both cases, I sent them drafts of the narrative analysis (with photographs embedded) in advance, then met with them at DELC at the end of the school day for discussion. I brought my field notes to all meetings, and made revisions based on their feedback and clarifications as we met. I also sent my participants the final draft of this manuscript for feedback twice during the process of submission and publication. For peer debriefing of my new analysis, I returned the findings to an expert familiar with early literacy practices, but unaffiliated with any of the institutions connected to the study. Validity and reliability measures included long term engagement (Schensul et al., 1999), triangulation (Mertens, 2014), member checking and peer debriefing (Lincoln and Guba, 1985), as well as data reanalysis (Wasterfors et al., 2014).
Setting and participants
DELC is a childcare programme in the Southeastern US, serving children from various ethnic backgrounds, children with disabilities and dual language learners, as well as children from families with working parents, but who still fall below the poverty line. At the time of the original study, DELC had two physical school sites. The first served children six weeks to three years old. The other served children three to five years old. DELC was accredited by the National Association for the Education of Young Children (NAEYC) and served approximately 75 children in total.
Sophia, DELC’s Executive director, had lived in town since early childhood and was very active in her community. Maria served as DELC’s Assistant Director. She came to the US in 2003 from Puerto Rico as a single mother, and though she was credentialed to teach in elementary school there, as an English language learner, she had difficulty navigating the US teacher certification system. According to Maria, she found the website in her state confusing, and the people she spoke with on the phone dismissive. She also did not feel confident taking the required certification exams in English. As a result, Maria initially took a position in a local preschool ‘just to tide me over’. She enjoyed the company of other Latinas at this preschool, and stayed in the field permanently. Maria credited Sophia with her eventual move from classroom teaching into leadership: ‘I always knew I wanted to teach, but I did not know I had the ability to be an administrator until Sophia pushed me to believe in myself.’ Maria and Sophia had similar credentials: a bachelor’s degree in a related field, a state director’s credentials, and hundreds of hours of in-service training. Both sat on the board of their regional NAEYC chapter and were actively engaged in early childhood leadership, advocacy, and training activities in their community and state.
DELC employed 17 teachers between both locations. Though I did not interview teachers as part of this study, I did observe them throughout my participant observation. All teachers gave voluntary consent for this level of involvement in the study and returned IRB approved forms before I entered their space. All had completed the mandated in-service training hours, and many held college degrees in EC or closely related fields of study. Teachers were assigned to their age-groups and content areas based on the teacher’s interest and the leadership’s impressions of their personal strengths. Maria and Sophia provided their staff with ongoing professional development across a wide range of content including curriculum implementation, pedagogy, and classroom management and behavioral support. They also fundraised to send teachers to state and national conferences, where teachers were encouraged to focus on their age-level or content area expertise.
Results: A day in the life
While the daily schedule at DELC is similar in many ways to other early childhood programmes, there are some unique factors. Children attend either the Infant/Toddler or Preschool sites based on age and development. Here, I have reported on the Preschool site, where children range in age from three to five years old. The curriculum framework they use supports a flow of centre-based work, whereby each teacher becomes an expert in their content area. Rather than having one teacher guide children through each content area within one physical classroom, each teacher’s room is set up as a single content area centre: Emergent Literacy, Emergent Maths, Science, Art, Dramatic Play, Construction, and Gross Motor Experience/Fluid Play. Children rotate through each centre in established colour groups, and therefore have many teachers rather than one. At DELC, they also have an additional teacher who ‘floats’, providing consistency across all centres. The following sections outline a typical day at DELC through the eyes of the Blue Group.
7:00 a.m. (indoor choices/breakfast)
When I arrive at DELC’s preschool site, it is early so there are only a few cars parked in the small car park. The school looks inviting and warm from the outside; it was a home before the school moved in. I walk around the back to a locked chain-link fence and punch in the key code. The large playground is quiet with a light sunny haze glinting off the playhouse. The branches of a huge granddaddy oak are spread over the shed and a long row of trikes and wagons. As I walk in the back door, Jonie runs up and asks me for a biscuit. Her little brown eyes look sad when I tell her I didn’t bring any biscuits this time, but soon she’s back to her colouring, jabbering away to her little friends. Maria smiles and comes to give me a hug, but before we can chat we hear someone crying. Isaiah and Jennifer are arguing over the tinker toys. Maria scurries off to assist with a resolution.
At this time of the morning there are only a few children and a few adults on site, and the atmosphere is quiet and relaxed. In line with the curriculum framework DELC uses, each room is prominently marked with its content area. The rooms are fairly small for a preschool, which is not so much in disrepair as ‘well-loved’, as Sofia says. It is an older building with mismatched flooring, some missing doorknobs, scuffed walls, and old fluorescent lighting. Not ideal for my photography. But children’s work samples line the walls in-between the bookshelves, which are filled to overflowing in every room. DELC’s extensive library includes Sofia’s own collection of children’s books.
In our first interview she explained: ‘I have over 5,000 books. I started when I was younger, and I’ve just kept my books.’ My participant-observation confirmed this. The centre is organized, but chocked full to the brim. Books are everywhere (Figure 2). According to Sophia, she was able to curate such a large and diverse library for DELC through ‘creative exploitation’ of community resources. For example, the local library system hosted used-book sales several times a year; Sophia and Maria attended every one. They also frequented garage sales and consignment shops. Additionally, Sophia regularly applied for, and was frequently awarded, local and state grants to increase not only the total number of books in their library, but diversity in genre.

Books everywhere.
While Maria is engaged with the few children who have arrived early, one of her teachers is gathering materials for an activity. Another teacher is preparing breakfast in the kitchen, which is in the centre of the building and open to most of the rooms. She’s singing along to the alphabet rap song playing softly in the background. A young father comes in the back door with his son, who is obviously reluctant. I recognize Matteo right away. He’s three years old and new to the school this week. Maria walks over with a broad smile and greets them quietly. I notice she has snatched up the book ‘A Mother for Choco’ (by Keiko Kasza) on her way. Matteo’s tears have already begun to stream down his face and his father, looking stricken, whispers something in his ear. Maria puts her hand on the father’s back, smiles, and winks. They exchange a few words in Spanish. Two minutes later Matteo is curled up on Miss Maria’s lap, listening to the story, playing absentmindedly with at stuffed animal, a parrot, that looks just like the main character of the book. Pretty soon a few more children are leaning in to listen. Jonie joins the group with a basket almost as big as she is, filled with books about dinosaurs. I know already that Maria will read every last one and that they’ll hear some of them again in the Science room during the course of the week’s exploration of paleontology. I’ve observed this scenario many times. This is not a fancy place, but it is cozy and certainly happy.
8:00 a.m. (voluntary pre-Kindergarten session)
An hour later DELC looks like it has been taken over by a mob of little people. Every size, shape and colour of the rainbow is represented. Today is a special day. Miss Wishy Washy is coming for a surprise visit – that is, Miss Maria is dressing up as the character to present a very special shared storybook reading.
Typically, only the four-year-old class would participate in these specific literacy activities designed to meet the state standards for its voluntary pre-Kindergarten programme; however, today’s special events will involve all children at this site. Sofia is sitting on a stool at the front of the large carpet in the Construction classroom, as the children file in with their groups. Miss Anna comes to the front of the room and begins a song. The children sing along and follow her hand motions until everyone is seated, legs crossed, hands in their laps. Sofia sings along and helps a few stragglers figure out what’s going on and what is expected of them. When everyone is quiet, Sofia tells the group they have a special guest coming, but before the excitement gets out of hand she reminds them of their agreements during Circle Time: ‘One voice at a time. When it’s our guest’s turn, you’ll be very, very quiet. When it’s your turn, we will all be very quiet. This way we can hear our story and we can hear each other.’
Just then, Maria, dressed as Miss Wishy Washy, appears from the back of the room. She is wearing an apron and her hair is pulled back in a bandana, just like in the books. She is carrying a basket with stuffed animals, soap, and a scrubbing brush. She comes and sits by the big metal tub at the front of the room. The children are mesmerized. Finally, one little boy blurts out, ‘That’s not Miss Wishy Washy. That’s Miss Maria!’ Everyone laughs.
What follows is a brilliant shared storybook reading. Sofia holds the big book as Maria tells the story and talks about the book with the children. Sofia’s lips mouth the words of the story as Maria reads. These two women have done this together many times (Figure 3). Children and teachers are fully engaged. Smiles fill the room (Figure 4). Singing, dancing, and, finally, a group picture follows the story and related lively discussion before Miss Wishy Washy scurries back to her farm. Once again Miss Anna takes control of the room with a finger play that ends with everyone lined up, hands folded in front of them.

Maria and Sofia on Miss Wishy Washy Day.

Children listening to Miss Wishy Washy.
9:00 a.m. (morning centres)
By this time, the children of DELC have separated into their groups and have settled into their first centre for the day. Miss Susan, the Emergent Literacy teacher, has welcomed the Blue Group to the room. After everyone is seated on the carpet, she leads them in some deep breathing exercises until everyone is settled. What follows is a typical Circle Time at DELC. Children do the calendar, observe the weather, and sing a few related songs. In-between these activities, Miss Susan reads another book, chosen by the children from a special basket of ‘transition books’ (Figure 5).

Miss Susan sharing a book.
Next, Miss Susan brings the children to a different area of the room. There is a colourful chart posted on the wall, with a letter ‘Mm’ at the top. There are no words on the chart, only a picture of monkeys engaged in mischief. Next to the chart is a brainstorm web (from the day before) highlighting words that start with the ‘mmm’ sound. Miss Susan has written the words and drawn figures to represent them. She reviews all of the ‘mmm’ words the children thought of the previous day, highlights the children in the class whose names start with that sound, then allows the class to add a few more words. She asks if they are ready to hear the rhyme and immediately several little hands go up. Miss Susan calls on Madeline, who knows without being told to turn the chart around to the other side and quickly sits back down. This side of the chart contains the alliterative poem they have all been waiting for – a story about monkeys drinking milk and making a mess. After hearing the poem three times, the children begin to ‘read’ it along with Miss Susan, filling in the ‘mmm’ words when she waits for their response. After adding more words to their brainstorm web, each child is given a chance to repeat an ‘mmm’ word before they choose a literacy centre. ‘Mmmmastadon!’ says one child, remembering a new word she learned from their paleontology unit in Science this week.
Within five minutes, every child is engaged in a paired literacy activity, with Miss Susan visiting each table, engaging children in conversation about their work. After making sure the other children are working well in their centres, she has a seat in the cozy corner. It has not escaped my attention that one of the two children situated on the pillows is a girl who had been upset earlier in the day. Later Miss Susan would explain that her grandmother had been in hospital and needed some extra love and care. Miss Susan has guided this little one to the cozy corner in order to get in some extra one-on-one read-aloud time. Both children have made stacks of their favourite books. Miss Susan sits and begins to read as the two children huddle close. She reads a book from each of their piles, then takes out the ‘The Feelings Book’ by Todd Parr. She looks at me and winks. Occasionally, she gets up to help other groups or to navigate an argument over materials. Miss Susan is adept at moving back and forth between planned and impromptu literacy experiences, systematic/explicit and embedded instruction.
In one of our interviews, I showed Maria some pictures of Miss Susan's facilitating literacy activities in her classroom. As Maria explained, Miss Susan had begun teaching the literacy component of the curriculum as Maria’s teaching assistant: ‘I see Susan doing things that I used to do… that come from the times we were teaching together.’ Maria also mentored Miss Susan as she transitioned from an assistant to a lead teacher. She explains, ‘Not only was I helping [in the classroom], I feel like I was a mentor for her too, because she is doing a lot. And she’s doing so great. I see amazing things going on in that classroom.’
11:00 a.m. (gross motor/outdoor play)
Soon the playground will be filled with children but before playground activities can commence, certain necessities need to be addressed. Miss Susan lines up the Blue Group in the hallway for a bathroom break. As each child takes their turn, she crouches down and pulls on a glove (Figure 6), with Velcro characters attached to the fingers. She begins to tell them a story. Not a single literacy opportunity is wasted at DELC.

Miss Susan using a story glove while children take turns in the bathroom.
Playground time is filled with more opportunities for literacy events. As Miss Emilia paints body outlines and names on the playground wall (Figure 7), Miss Jackie stands on the bike path, singing ‘Roll Over’, a counting song from a book by Merle Peek she read aloud earlier in the day. Next, she counts the number of bounces they each do on the big bouncy balls (Figure 8). Meanwhile Miss Anna reads ‘Leaf Man’ by Lois Ehlert in a corner of the playground and then gathers the children for a romp in the leaves left by the granddaddy oak (Figure 9). Miss Maria helps a group of children playing in the playhouse to give an oral play-by-play of what they are doing – impromptu authors of an oral narrative about a family making tortillas and feeding the dog.

Miss Emilia’s playground name recognition activity.

Counting, bouncing, and discussing with Miss Jackie.

Miss Anna telling stories and playing in the leaves.
Even lining up to wash hands for lunch includes more literacy interactions, as Miss Anna reinforces phonological awareness skills by singing several rounds of ‘Anna Fanna BoBanna, FeFi MoManna…’. Next, teachers sit with children during lunch, talking about their day and listening to stories about siblings and last night’s TV shows. Finally, each teacher transitions her group to naptime at their own pace, and I capture a sweet moment of Franklin squeezing in one more book before drifting off (Figure 10).

Franklin with a book on his cot before naptime.
2:30 p.m. (afternoon centres)
By 2:30 p.m., the once napping building is again buzzing with talk and action. As I walk through the halls, I look into each room, noticing that every teacher, not just the Emergent Literacy teacher, is beginning her lesson with a story. I also notice that the children are comfortable with this structure. They understand the routine of listening to the teacher while she reads, chiming in when prompted, and asking questions or commenting on the story by raising their hands and waiting their turn. Some are more adept at this than others, but I have been a participant-observer at DELC long enough to know that this is all an expected, well-practised part of their day.
Next, I decide to take a seat in Miss Anna’s class in Dramatic Play and am not surprised to observe a brilliant introduction to a book that highlights colours and emotions. I notice that Miss Anna has come prepared with props of her own making and that she is using many of the same shared storybook reading strategies Maria modelled earlier in the day. She asks open-ended questions, waits and listens to children’s responses, and elicits deeper answers when needed. She writes key words on a vocabulary list that will later be placed on the interactive word wall. At one point, a little boy admits that he is feeling blue and sad because he misses his mom. Miss Anna acknowledges this and ties it back to the book. Through the next few pages the boy persists with announcing his feelings. Anna gathers him up on her lap: ‘I know it can be hard being away from those we love,’ she says, then continues with the story (Figure 11).

Miss Anna delivering a shared storybook reading.
After the story, the children are guided to small group activities that involve acting out emotions in familiar settings: home, school, the grocery store, and the neighbourhood park. I notice there are writing materials and embedded, scaffolded activities included in each small group space.
As a participant-observer I made many notes in my journal about the interconnected nature of literacy events and social-emotional learning I observed at DELC. Teachers did not treat the two domains of development as separate. In one of my interviews with Sofia, I enquired about this. She explained: If you have a kid who comes in and he’s tired all the time, or there’s hunger or whatever, that’s where you start. Because no matter how much I teach you about the letter ‘T’, if I can’t get you to trust me, there’s no learning going on. So, you have to get that nurturing across, that I care about you, I love you, I’m going to help you, we’re going to get through this together.
3:45–6:00 p.m. (gross motor outside play/late afternoon snack)
As the rest of the day winds down, some children leave to go home, though many will stay until closing at 6:00 p.m. A bus drops off children from the public-school pre-Kindergarten programme for children with special needs. A few volunteers come to read books to children. There is a turnover of shifts for some of the teachers.
Throughout these transitions, language and literacy interactions are still ubiquitous, both planned and impromptu. On the patio, Sofia pops in to share one of her favourite books, ‘The Snowy Day’ by Ezra Jack Keats. Miss Talia engages in a deep paleontology discussion with a few children in the sandbox (Figure 12). Sitting on a bench under a tree, Maria talks to a group of children about the morning’s Miss Wishy Washy experience, reinforcing new vocabulary. She then retells the story of ‘A Mother for Choco’, then helps the children listen for the twittering of birds in the trees (Figure 13). On the balance beam, Miss Anna talks to some boys about the books they’ve enjoyed this week. They are very excited about the dinosaur books they’ve experienced (Figure 14). Legs and mouths are all going at once. A volunteer from the local grandparent’s programme is reading/singing Cedella Marley’s book ‘One Love’ to a group sitting on the patio. In fact, there are stacks of books all over the patio. Throughout the afternoon I see children ‘reading’ to each other, to themselves, or to teachers. Often a read-aloud that starts with one child expands to a pair and then a group huddled around a teacher, even here on the playground.

Sandbox discourse on paleontology.

Maria retelling stories and birdwatching on the playground.

Miss Anna and the boys: Discourse about their favourite dinosaur books.
As DELC slowly empties out, I marvel at how second nature all of these literacy interactions are to teachers and children. Every photograph taken during the project was captured candidly, and the preponderance of the archive are images of teachers engaged with children: eye contact, presence, back-and-forth discussion, stories and exploration of content areas both with and without books, phonological awareness and alphabet knowledge play, comforting and consoling, teaching skills both academic and behavioural, singing, etc. Administrators, teachers, and children are all interconnected at DELC. Sofia described it in this way: The truth is, if you can make a connection with them, an emotional connection, then they’re going to be more interested in taking risks for learning. Sometimes, there are kids that I feel like ‘oh, my goodness, I don’t know if we’ll ever do it’… And then they turn the corner, and the very next day you’ve got some kind of connection.
Discussion
The goal of this study was to explore how Sofia and Maria operationalized their ‘twenty-five books a day’ paradigm despite the considerable systems-level barriers to effective literacy practice facing subsidized childcare programmes. The types of literacy events I witnessed at DELC are not in and of themselves unique. However, the sheer number that occurred throughout the day was exceptional, particularly given the challenging contexts. Analysis revealed three key themes: the prioritization of ample and consistent (1) access to high quality, diverse books, (2) responsive literacy interactions, and (3) professional support for teachers.
Access to high quality and diverse books
Research has long supported the importance of a literacy-rich environment in preschool, including classroom libraries with an adequate quantity and quality of books (e.g. Guo et al., 2013). Increasing a child’s exposure to books is correlated to an increase in motivation and knowledge about reading (e.g. McCormick and Mason, 1986). Evidence supports the critical nature of genre diversity as well. Exposure to nonfiction texts through interactive read-alouds contributes to a child’s overall literacy development in numerous ways, including enhanced vocabulary, oral language development, and background knowledge (Massey, 2014; Yopp and Yopp, 2012). While shared book reading is helpful in developing vocabulary and content knowledge for all children, it is critical for children from underserved communities, and children for whom English is a second language (Neuman and Kaefer, 2018).
Unfortunately, many preschool classroom libraries are lacking, both in terms of the quantity (Guo et al., 2013) and quality, including the range of genres and culturally-, linguistically-, and ability -diverse representations (Crisp et al., 2016). Moreover, there remains a significant gap in quality and diversity of books in programmes serving children in low-income families relative to their more affluent peers (e.g. Duke, 2000). Similar disparities persist in neighbourhoods themselves (Neuman and Moland, 2019).
Sofia and Maria have faithfully followed the research by prioritizing access to high quality books in large quantities, from a variety of genres, and with cultural-, ability-, and language-diverse representations. The DELC building is overflowing with books because leadership has prioritized the goal. Again, though funding to ensure all programmes are well equipped was not forthcoming, DELCs administrators and staff jumped in to fill the void. Sophia explained: ‘I grew up with books everywhere. I loved books and still do…I figured if we had books all over, children would come to love them too.’ Sophia and Maria were resourceful but they were often overwhelmed. Sophia: ‘So I just kept pushing along … I wrote a lot of grants…. I was here all the time. And there was no way out.’ Their prioritization of access to books is admirable. However, serious questions remain about the sustainability of a model that depends so highly on the goodwill of staff who are themselves underpaid, overworked, and under-supported within the broader educational system.
Literacy events as responsive interactions
As expectations for Kindergarten have increased (Bassok et al., 2016), so have preschool expectations for school readiness and the resulting proliferation of state standards across many domains of child development (Haynie, 2019). Many preschool teachers face confusion over how to prioritize their growing instructional ‘To Do’ lists in developmentally appropriate and culturally sustaining ways. The good news is that the nexus between play and literacy is amply discussed in several decades of literature (Roskos and Christie, 2011). In fact, there is growing evidence to support the important role certain early literacy activities can play in the social-emotional development of young children (e.g. Bramwell and Doyle, 2008; Doyle and Bramwell, 2006; Montgomery and Maunders, 2015), suggesting the two domains need not battle for priority.
Maria's and Sofia’s ability to navigate this problem was a critical component of their success. They made both domains an organic part of the school day. Language and literacy events were seen as dialogic interactions. These interactions were embedded in the larger framework of nurturing children. From their perspective, this was not an either-or proposition. Neither were literacy and social-emotional development ranked. One was not seen as more important that the other. Both were required, and so they ‘just do both’ (Sophia). When Sofia got down on the level of a crying child and soothed, she viewed this as a literacy event, modelling language for emotional self-regulation. Simultaneously, she viewed this interaction as an opportunity to set the child’s stage for ‘taking risks in learning’. As in the case of Miss Susan purposefully making time to read stories to an upset little girl, the teachers at DELC were supported in using read-alouds to connect with children that needed more safe, adult attachment opportunities. At DELC, no child was expected to leave their emotions at the door when literacy instruction began.
Professional support
When teachers involved in literacy PD are also provided with coaching and high-quality children’s books, child outcomes improve. In Susan Neuman’s classic study (1999) flooding childcare centres with books in conjunction with PD and coaching for teachers, researchers found that children experienced more verbal interaction with teachers surrounding books, and more time engaged in book reading. Intervention group children showed statistically significant gains above controls in four of the six literacy assessment measures. Additionally, these gains persisted with the group of children available for further assessment in Kindergarten. Support for the environment, in the form of books, went hand in hand with PD and classroom coaching. Evidence supports the effectiveness of coaching/mentoring models alongside workshops and/or coursework to increase teachers' use of effective literacy practices in preschool settings (e.g. Hindman and Wasik, 2012; Hsieh et al., 2009; Landry et al., 2009; United States Department of Education, Office of Planning, Evaluation and Policy Development, Policy and Program Studies Service, 2010).
Again, Sofia and Maria followed evidence-based practice in this area. In fact, they attributed a large part of their success to their commitment to supporting teachers. Rather than simply sending them to required trainings, Maria and Sofia came alongside their teachers and coached them in new knowledge, skills, and dispositions. Literacy professional development alone was not enough. They believed that teachers needed professional support. Maria and Sophia’s notion of professional support included high expectations (25 books a day) buoyed by supportive environmental structures (prioritization of environmental quality, particularly robust, diverse classroom libraries) and responsive teacher–child processes (mentoring in an interactional approach to literacy events).
Guo and colleagues (2012) stress the interconnected nature of physical and psychological preschool environments and assert that ‘teacher professional development and support needs to be at the forefront of early education policies designed to enhance the quality of classroom support to children’s literacy development’ (p. 323). In DELC’s case, high expectations were achieved because adequate professional support was consistently in place. Again, their recipe for success is simple, though far from easy to operationalize. Coaching alongside PD is well supported in the preschool literature, though not often funded. In the absence of public funds for literacy coaching within these settings, Maria and Sophia jumped in to do it themselves. Maria described her support of teachers in this way: ‘I’m just here to help. Any time you need my help, you just call me. If you have to scream in the hallway because I’m in the office, just call me, I’ll be here to help.’ Sophia responded to Maria’s comment, ‘This is us. This is real life here.’ Later she added, ‘When you’re with us, we take care of you… .’
Conclusions
In a previous publication on the DELC photovoice project (Cheyney-Collante and Cheyney, 2018), we identified several ways that Maria and Sophia leveraged internal supports and resources (e.g. personal protective factors) in the face of chronic scarcity of external (systems-level) support and low positionality within the educational community. This internal support included dispositions of agency, interdependence, and advocacy. Further discussion of this internal support is beyond the scope of this paper. However, the findings of this extension to that study, how they operationalized a ‘twenty-five books a day’ mindset, cannot be interpreted adequately without considering the individual contributions and great personal toll of such work. Where the system has forgotten such programmes, Maria and Sophia jumped in, relying on their own ingenuity, stamina, and wisdom to keep their programme going. While they heralded immense and noble personal effort willingly for decades, it is important to acknowledge that they should never have been asked to do this on their own. The daily heroic measures taken at DELC do not absolve the larger system from the myriad ways it should be supporting young children and the teachers committed to serving them.
Many factors contribute to a child’s readiness for acquiring the uniquely human, yet innately unnatural, skill of reading. Simply making teachers responsible for more will not guarantee that our rich emergent literacy research base is put to good use across all preschool settings. Teachers need to be supported in these monumental tasks. Maria and Sofia’s brand of literacy leadership is truly an outlier, an exceptional case, yet their story underscores the importance of shifting our collective priorities. All children deserve our attention and our brightest ideas. How is a ‘twenty-five books a day’ paradigm carried out in this challenging context? One book at a time.
