One child clutches a stethoscope like it’s a treasure. Another gently presses a bottle cap to her friend’s arm and says, “injection.” The patients giggle. The nurse sighs. In the corner, a teacher watches — not intervening, just smiling. Noticing.
This is a moment from a classroom in a government school in Karnataka. It might look like play. But ask the teacher, and she will tell you: this is learning. This is joy.
Over the past few weeks, I spoke with early years teachers across government schools to understand what joy means to them and how it comes alive in their classrooms. Their responses were not abstract or scripted. They were vivid, deeply personal, and rooted in lived experiences. And through their stories, one thing became clear: joy in the early years is not a reward or an afterthought. It is the work itself.
Joy in Play
For every teacher I spoke to, play wasn’t a break from learning—it was learning. Whether it was acting out a story as vegetables, building with blocks, or role-playing with a doctor’s set, play was the space where children led the narrative.
“When children play, they feel the way they do at home—they smile and laugh. That is how they should learn,” said Lalitha ma’am from Koppa Gate.
“I did a mystery box activity and just watching children put their hand in with such curiosity… it gives me joy,” shared Manjula ma’am from Dommasandra. “I like listening to children. It makes me happy and it makes me a better teacher.”
In these moments, children aren’t being managed—they’re being trusted to imagine, express, and connect.
Freedom is where Joy Breathes
Many teachers spoke about freedom—the freedom to choose, to speak, to move. Learning stations, dance breaks, unstructured play—these were not “breaks” but moments where children were most alive, most themselves.
“A joyful classroom is when children can do what they want. I see this during free play,” shared Ranjitha ma’am from Kammasandra.
“Some afternoons, we forget it’s time to go home,” she added, recalling moments when conversations with children carried on with such joy that time slipped away.
This freedom isn’t chaotic. It’s intentional. It’s built into how the space is set up, how materials are made accessible, and how the teacher steps back just enough to let the child lead.
Joy Lives in Relationship
Every teacher spoke not just about what children do, but how they relate—to each other and to their teachers.
“A place where children feel safe and loved like they do at home,” said Manjula R ma’am.
“Children in my classroom pretend-play with me like a friend,” shared Renuka ma’am. “They act like I’m the patient and they’re the doctor, or they play music for me. Those moments make me so happy.”
“One student even told her mother she wanted to buy me anklets like the ones she loved because she liked me so much,” said Shobha Devi ma’am, smiling.
Joy is relational. It’s co-created in moments of trust, affection, and shared laughter. It’s when a child imitates a teacher during play. It’s when a teacher runs during a game of hide and seek, only to pretend she can’t find the child. It’s love, disguised as play.
Shared Joy, Lasting Joy
Teachers often reflected on moments where their own joy came alive. Not through perfect lesson plans, but in spontaneous breakthroughs—a child who starts speaking, one who imitates a story, one who creates something and proudly shows it.
“There was a girl in my class who could not hear and talk properly. One day, she attempted to use words and begin talking… I felt I found purpose alongside this child,” shared Nandini ma’am.
“My children imitate me when I tell stories, and when I hear them retelling the story to their friends, that joy is unmatched,” said Lalitha ma’am.
When children express themselves—through movement, words, questions, affection—teachers feel seen too. Joy, in these classrooms, is a two-way street.
The Classroom as a Living Space
A joyful classroom doesn’t mean noise all the time. It means signs of life. Movement. Curiosity. Wonder. Walls filled with
children’s drawings. Corners with toys and materials that invite exploration.
“Children spend so much time exploring the walls and talking to their friends,” said Neelamma ma’am from Hennagara. “When I put out toy vehicles, children played for so long, they made up stories and shared them. They connected joyfully,” shared Shobha ma’am from Jigani.
Even something as small as a mystery box or a dance break can become a doorway to joy. It isn’t decoration. It’s design that reflects how children move, think, and feel.
What Joy Teaches Us
From every teacher, one message came through: joy is not an extra. It is not what happens after the learning is done. It is the very condition that makes learning possible.
“The best indicator of a joyful classroom is that a child wants to come back the next day,” said Manasa ma’am.
A joyful classroom is one where curiosity feels safe. Where teachers and children are not in fixed roles, but often switch places — co-players, co-dreamers, co-learners.
“Children get so happy when we also act like children,” said Manjula R ma’am. “The amusement on their faces when I pretend to lose a game of hide and seek… that’s joy.”
And maybe, that’s the truest measure of what joy really looks like in early years learning.
About the Author
Swetha is the Co-founder of Key Education Foundation, where she leads impact and strategy efforts to improve Early Childhood Education by
partnering with schools, teachers, and parents. A member of the Karnataka State task force for ECE, she also works with governments to scale early childhood programs.
About the Storytelling Fellowship
This fellowship was created to give people working at the heart of social change a rare space to pause, reflect, and write—not reports or case studies, but real stories. Ten fellows came together to explore what it means to witness, to listen, and to share experiences that are often left unseen. With time, mentorship, and care, they shaped narratives that move beyond data or impact statements—stories that evoke, that remind us what it truly means to care, to act, and to stay present