Analyzing Sarah's Behavior: An ECE Ethical Decision-Making Case Study

This case study presents a complex ethical dilemma within an early childhood education setting. The scenario involves a teacher, Sarah, whose actions and beliefs regarding family diversity, particularly LGBTQ+ families, create conflict and raise concerns about her professional conduct. The case writer, a colleague of Sarah, grapples with Sarah's discriminatory behavior, including her negative reactions to children's play, gender expression, and the presence of a male student teacher. The case explores how Sarah's personal beliefs and biases impact her interactions with children, colleagues, and families, particularly regarding issues of gender, sexuality, and cultural diversity. The assignment requires an analysis of the ethical and professional implications of Sarah's actions, the impact on the children and the placement student, and the ethical responsibilities of the case writer. The task involves applying ethical decision-making principles, addressing potential conflicts, and proposing solutions to resolve the situation in a professional and inclusive manner, adhering to APA guidelines for a written report.

Case Study
“Queer families are an abomination… a threat to the natural order… Their blood will be on their own
heads.”
I stare at my computer screen in disbelief. My eyes frantically scan the page in front of me, desperate to
discover if I’ve mistakenly been re-directed to the site of some homophobic hate group. After what feels
like an eternity, I sadly realize this is not what happened. In full colour, at the top left corner of my
screen, a familiar face smirks back at me – the face of my preschool room partner, Sarah*. She has
posted on the wall of a social media site set up by a conservative religious organization that supports
traditional images of what constitutes a family.
My mind’s eye retreats to the past year of my professional life when I began my work as an early
childhood educator. In particular, I am recalling the day I was first introduced to Sarah, a senior staff
member in the preschool program where I was hired.
Sarah was from a Caribbean island and had a reputation for ensuring that racial, ethnic, cultural and
linguistic diversity was an integral part of the centre’s programs. She received an award of distinction for
this reason.
One of my first tasks as her room partner was to assist her with the planning of the organization’s
upcoming African cultural celebration, an annual event that recognizes and celebrates African culture.
As a novice employee, I intended to
learn from this woman who had several years of experience at this centre, demonstrated leadership
skills and earned an assistant supervisor position shortly following her hiring.
Sarah stood directly in front of me. She was a thin woman, but with broad shoulders and thick arms. Her
engaging smile and booming voice conveyed a depth of knowledge and insight. Truthfully, in spite of all
my work and research in equity, I was a bit awed by her. I really did hope we might become more than
just professional colleagues. But even then, there was something about Sarah that bothered me.
I remembered the words on my computer screen. My initial confusion shifted as memories of my work
with Sarah over the past year flooded my consciousness. Slowly, I recalled events that might be
representative of the blatantly ugly words posted on the social media site.
“Welcome to our preschool room!” Sarah sang out enthusiastically. “As you can see, the children are
busy creating art work for tomorrow’s celebration. Feel free to jump right in!” She danced to the
bookshelf to replace some of the current titles with children’s books that prominently featured black
characters.
I had accepted Sarah’s invitation to “jump right in” and opened the cloth bag I carried, clapped my
hands in delight and cried out, “I’ve got some books for you!” I pulled out two titles that were personal
favourites: Asha’s Mums and My Princess Boy. Each, I believed, would support Sarah’s commitment to
racial diversity while simultaneously infusing gender and sexuality into the curriculum. I handed the
books to Sarah, anticipating immediate confirmation of her approval.

Instead, as Sarah surveyed each cover, an incredulous expression replaced her wide smile. Shifting her
gaze to my expectant face she remarked, quite matter-of-factly, “Thanks, but the children selected these
books themselves. As you can see, there’s hardly enough room on
*The name of the early childhood educator who wrote the story is not provided. Names, locations,
contexts and/or dilemmas presented in the case have been modified for the purposes of confidentiality.
My supervisor had assured me that Sarah would be delighted to work with someone as committed to
issues of equity and inclusion as I was. I had just graduated from a program in early childhood education
with a research interest in broadening approaches to multicultural curriculum. My focus included the
full scope of human diversity that characterizes contemporary Canadian society.
College of Early Childhood Educators | Case Study 1: Sarah’s Confusing Behaviour
4
the shelf for them as it is.” She thrust the books back in my direction and returned to her work, visibly
uncomfortable. I wondered if I’d been too presumptuous in assuming that Sarah’s commitment to
diversity extended beyond theoretical support for race, ethnicity, culture and language. However, I
grinned in her direction, eager to show her that I understood.
As the months progressed, there was nothing that really rankled me. Sometimes I wondered, however,
why our relationship hadn’t developed beyond the professional. Sarah was never blatantly disrespectful,
yet she failed to make any real effort to get to know me. Our daily exchanges were limited to discussions
about the program, the children and the families we supported. Until now, I had never questioned the
deliberate distance she had maintained. Perhaps I was still in awe of a reputation that had appeared, at
least initially, to support my values of inclusion.
In early October, we welcomed Rory, a post secondary student in an early childhood education program,
to our room. Sarah greeted the announcement of his pending start with overt annoyance. “Another
student? And a male no less! Shouldn’t he be assigned to Jonas’s room?”
“I thought you enjoyed having students,” I replied. “I’m excited to have a male presence in our program.
Aren’t you?”
Rory began his placement experience with us, much to the delight of the preschoolers. Lauren, in
particular, followed him around the
room like a shadow, sitting on his lap every chance she got and offering incessant displays of affection.
Just before lunch Sarah, scrutinizing the room, snapped, “Lauren, you need to sit on the carpet like all of
the other children! Please move your body so that Rory can start the story!” Lauren’s bottom lip
quivered. Clearly saddened, Lauren slowly slid from Rory’s lap. She sat on the floor to his immediate
right, her head hung in disappointment.
Later, as the children ate lunch, Lauren asked Rory to take her to the washroom. Without pausing, Sarah
quipped, “I will take you to the washroom, Lauren. Rory, placement students are not allowed to be
alone with the children.” Dismayed again, Lauren took Sarah’s hand and followed her to the washroom,
a pained look on her face.

When Rory’s gaze shifted in my direction, I’m sure he noticed my quizzical expression. Although Sarah
and I had mentored students before, I had never experienced such an abrupt reaction to a child’s
growing fondness for a placement student. I took in the faces of the other children in the room as they
noted Sarah’s demeanour and reacted to the authority in her loud voice. I also caught the glance of one
of my colleagues just outside the door, who was nodding her head in seeming disapproval of the
scenario.
The washroom is located within the classroom space. There was no policy that I knew of that prohibited
placement students from assisting children with their washroom needs unsupervised. Sarah’s bad mood
was palpable that day so I decided to remain silent, brushing it off as just another isolated incident.
A few months later, three children were playing in the drama centre. A wedding was about to take
place! Tissue paper flowers decorated the wall. Confetti littered the carpet. The children had planned
and worked hard at designing such a wonderful space. There was no question that the children had
clearly assigned roles. Tara, one of our senior preschoolers, was set to officiate at the mock union. She
stood before two young boys, each of whom wore oversized lace dresses and held bouquets of silk
flowers.
“Hmmmph,” she scoffed, “For the life of me, I’ll never understand why a man would want to work at a
job that women do so naturally. To each his own I guess.” With that, she turned on her heel. These
interchanges were typical of our conversations when our views collided. Still, she was beginning to
express her views with increased candour. This suggested to me that our relationship had finally
deepened! After all, why would she so openly share such controversial thoughts?
College of Early Childhood Educators | Case Study 1: Sarah’s Confusing Behaviour 5
Just as the ceremony commenced, Sarah skipped into the room from her break and in her booming
voice announced, “Miss Sarah’s back! Ten minutes to tidy up!” She toured the room, greeting children at
each of the learning centres. As she approached the drama play space, the hop in her step ceased.
Frozen in place, Sarah turned to me and demanded, “What’s going on here?”
“It’s a wedding! Doesn’t everyone look beautiful?” I exclaimed, ignoring her tone.
Sarah shook her head in disbelief. “Feng is not allowed to wear dresses. His father gave me explicit
instructions to redirect this behaviour. In fact, he’s told me on several occasions that Feng is to refrain
from using this space altogether. The neighbourhood children are already teasing him for playing with
dolls. The last thing he needs is encouragement to dress like a girl!”
I was not sure if Sarah had merely forgotten to share this parent’s instructions, or if the entire story was
fabricated. Giving her the benefit of the doubt yet again, I decided to wait for a more opportune time to
discuss the matter. After all, if what she revealed was true, surely Sarah would have wanted an
opportunity to educate a parent about a child’s need to explore his or her identity.
Sarah turned back to the children, whose engagement in play had resumed. “Time to tidy up! You’ve
made quite the mess here.” I smiled weakly at the saddened faces. Tara, with downcast eyes, struggled
to return furniture to its original configuration. Sarah practically ripped the dresses from the boys’
skinny bodies.

Resilient little Marlon, still undeterred by Sarah’s contempt, looked squarely into her face, now rife with
indignation, and announced brightly, “Mommy says that when a man loves a man, they sometimes get
married. Uncle Rinaldo and Uncle Michael are getting married! I get to hold the rings!” Marlon’s news
seemed to disturb Sarah further. Her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pursed.
Ever more certain of the ordeal I now faced, my mind returned to the present. I once again
contemplated the social media posting: “Queer families are an abomination ... A threat to the natural
order...” What was I to do with this information? Should I respond? I grappled with potential answers.
Then, reality struck me. “What will she make of my sexual orientation and the fact that I have concealed
it this long?”
The words blazed across my computer screen again. “ ...Their blood will be on their own heads.” Sarah’s
words and actions haunted me for the remainder of the day and haunted my dreams that evening.
I searched in my head for previous examples of this behaviour. Was the policing of gender I had
witnessed representative of the responsive and inclusive framework integral to our centre’s philosophy?
Surely she had not meant to solidify old stereotypes, especially when most of the parents in our
program were very open-minded.
Case Study Reflections/Guiding Questions:
1. What are the key facts in this case?
2. What dilemmas exist for the case writer and for Sarah?
3. What impact might these dilemmas have on the children in the centre’s program?
4. How might the placement student be affected by Sarah’s attitude and actions?
5. What professional values and issues surface through this case?
6. How are the ethical and/or professional practice standards reflected (or not reflected) through this
case?
7. The case writer feels haunted by Sarah’s words and behaviour. What impact might these feelings have
on professional practice? How do you think these feelings could be mitigated?
Instructions:
Using the above highlighted information, your group will prepare a 750-800 word, double spaced
document using APA guidelines outlining how the above situation should be resolved in an ethical and
professional manner. Please be sure to include a title page and reference page.
You will submit via Ethical Decision Making Group Case Study Assignment. Total= 20%.
Occupational Standards for ECE
References I found so far that might work.
https://sway.com/BLc7BpLjrukvafEp

http://www.workplacefairness.org/sexual-orientation-discrimination
SECTION C: Family and Community Relations
Form collaborative partnerships with families.
 Use community resources.
 Advocate for children and families.
 Provide an inclusive environment.
SECTION D: PROFESSIONAL RELATIONSHIPS
 Work as a member of a team.
 Mentor others.
SECTION E: Personal and Professional Development
 Conduct self professionally.
 Maintain a work/life balance
 Participate in professional development.
 Advocate for the profession.