A Tapestry of Hope

Stories of Transformation Through Difficult Times

By Kelly Goodsir

(This is a small excerpt of a keynote presentation I gave at the INSPIRE Conference in March 2025)

In the work of early childhood education, we are often reminded that we “teach who we are.” These words hold particular weight for me, as I have walked (and continue to walk) the difficult path of complex loss after Matt died by suicide four years ago. We lost a best friend, my son’s father, and someone deeply important in our lives. In the wake of profound grief, my foundations were rocked, and I found myself searching for a way forward, a thread of purpose to hold onto when the future felt uncertain and dark. A Tapestry of Hope emerges from this deeply personal journey; it reflects the practices I have drawn upon in my own life to cultivate hope, transformation, and possibility. Finding a way forward despite everything.

These ideas are not just personal; they speak to the collective experience of educators navigating difficult times. When our professional identities and personal lives intertwine in the fabric of human experience, we are called to find ways to walk forward with courage and care.

Hope as Practice

Hope is not a passive sentiment nor naïve optimism. David W. Orr, the environmental educator and author, reminds us, “hope is a verb with its sleeves rolled up.” In our work with children, hope must become a practice, a deliberate orientation toward possibility, even amid hardship but I know this can feel counterintuitive when times are tough.

One of the things about hope that’s important to grasp and I feel empowered by, is what Rick Snyder, author of The Psychology of Hope (1994), suggests: hope results from both a WILL and WAY. For me, this means hope is not just wishful thinking, it’s an active process.

The will is our motivation and determination to pursue a goal, while the way is our ability to see or create a path to reach it. Genuine hope comes from both elements working together: the belief that we can achieve something and the clarity to navigate the journey. Without will, we lack the drive to move forward; without a way, we feel stuck. Hope thrives when we cultivate both.

Cultivating this practice invites us to believe in the possibility of change, even when change feels distant or uncertain. It means holding space for new ways of thinking and doing. It requires us to resist despair, to challenge cynicism, and to step beyond narratives of struggle that threaten to define us. This resonated deeply with me because, at times, hope felt like work, hard, exhausting work. There were days when rolling up my sleeves seemed almost radical in itself, especially when all I wanted to do was curl up on the couch and disappear into Netflix. But hope demanded more of me.

It asked me to take action.

This is the work of hope in action, a steadfast, quiet refusal to give up on ourselves, on others, or on the future. (YES, please read that last sentence again slowly). So here are 5 HOPE PRACTICES that have helped me on my journey of difficulty and I share them in the hope they might help you too.

Hope Practice #1 / Finding Treasure When Times “Suck”

In difficult times, life can feel like “trying to find your way in the dark.” We may feel lost or overwhelmed by the complexity of the path ahead. But our stories of transformation are rarely linear; they are often like a roller coaster ride, full of twists, turns, and unexpected moments of grace.

Even the hardest times contain hidden treasures. The pearl, after all, is born of trauma, a beautiful object formed around irritation and pain. Hardship, like the irritant, disrupts our lives, it causes discomfort and struggle. But through perseverance, grit, and the willingness to work through our challenges rather than resist them, we layer our experiences with wisdom, strength, and beauty. It takes two or more years for a pearl to form, again a reminder of the importance of time, patience, and endurance. They arise out of adversity, proving that even from trauma, something beautiful and treasured can emerge.

Lily Meola’s lyrics from Daydream remind us:“You gotta fall for a minute before you can fly.”

In many ways, cultivating hope means embracing this truth, that falling, failing, and faltering are part of the journey toward becoming. I often listen to this song when I need a reminder to not give up on my daydreams, her lyrics offer me the courage and renewed determination I sometimes need.

Hope Practice #2 / Feel the Feelings

Hope does not require us to deny difficult feelings. On the contrary, cultivating hope means allowing ourselves to feel, to acknowledge sadness, disappointment, exhaustion, and fear. This is not indulgence or being a negative nelly; it is a practice of emotional honesty and so often vulnerability. Brené Brown (2010, p. 20) reminds us, “Owning our story can be hard but not nearly as difficult as spending our lives running from it.”

For a long time, I unconsciously believed that if I opened the gate to those feelings of sadness, I might never find my way back, that the unraveling of loss, unmet expectations or even that feeling of being let down, would be too much. And yet, that unraveling is the only way I have found my way through. It is vulnerable, tender work, but necessary and one I did alongside a therapist intensely in those first few years. I needed to learn new ways to welcome the feelings that scared or frightened me, be curious toward them and compassionately understand what they were telling me.

We teach who we are, and our willingness to feel, even the feelings we would rather forget, models for children what it means to live authentically, with care and courage. Children are often our most honest teachers when it comes to emotions: they notice, they name, and they express freely, often without hesitation or self-judgment.

As educators, we are invited into this reciprocal relationship of emotional learning, where we not only support children to navigate their own feelings but also allow their openness and honesty to remind us how to stay present with our own. Acknowledging and feeling emotions doesn’t mean bringing raw, unprocessed feelings into the professional space in ways that burden children or colleagues. Instead, it means embodying authenticity with care and professional integrity.

This is not just a personal journey; it is a professional responsibility. Our capacity to tend to our own emotional lives thoughtfully allows us to carry this responsibility with care and integrity, modeling what it means to live hopefully and courageously in the face of life’s complexities.

Hope Practice #3 / Seek Beauty and Joy

A hope practice also means seeking moments of beauty and joy, no matter how fleeting or small. These moments are essential nourishment for the spirit. In early childhood settings, we have endless opportunities to delight in wonder: when a child discovers something new, when they tackle something tricky, or in the quiet simplicity of a gentle encounter. These moments invite us to return to the present with gratitude.

Julia Baird’s book Phosphorescence: On Awe, Wonder and Things That Sustain You When the World Goes Dark explores this beautifully, reminding us that resilience is nurtured through awe and wonder. She draws on the phenomenon of phosphorescence, the way certain materials absorb light and glow in the dark, as a metaphor for human endurance. Like phosphorescent organisms, we too can "absorb" joy, awe, love, and purpose from our experiences, carrying that glow within us to light the darker times. This is one of my favourite places in the world Waimarama Beach, NZ - its a place I absorb awe and perspective.

In this way, seeking beauty and joy becomes an intentional act of defiance in difficult times, a declaration that life remains full of grace and possibility, even when so much can feel heavy. Perhaps as educators, attuning ourselves to the beauty in everyday encounters enables us to nurture environments where both children and adults can draw strength, hope, and wonder from the ordinary moments knowing that they too can sustain us and remind us of the beauty in this world.

Hope Practice #4 / Hold Determination Tightly - Try Softly

There can be a temptation in challenging times to simply “try harder”, to push through exhaustion, to keep striving and stretching ourselves to meet every demand. As a single mum and business owner I know this tension only too well. But an ethic of hope invites a different orientation: to try softly.

Trying softly is not about giving up. It is about embracing gentleness as strength, about recognising that compassion for ourselves and for others can coexist with determination. It allows us to honour what is possible without pushing ourselves to breaking point.

John O’Donohue’s blessing in poetry captures the essence of this beautifully:

“Blessed be the longing that brought you here

And quickens your soul with wonder

May you have the courage to listen to the voice of desire

That disturbs you when you settle for something safe,

May you have the wisdom to enter generously into your own unease

To discover the new direction your longing wants you to take”

In other words, hope invites us to attend to our longing, to listen carefully to the places where our desires for meaning, connection, and growth reside and to move gently but persistently toward them.

I see that same determination in Caleb. Growing up with a mum who never bought commercial costumes, he would spend entire days designing and sticky taping his own ninja outfits, pouring himself into the process with relentless focus – determined to transform himself into a superhero.

Hope Practice #5 / Resisting Isolation and Lean into Community

Hope cannot thrive in isolation. The temptation to withdraw during difficult times is real, but leaning into community is essential and takes effort. Collegiality, shared dialogue, and collective reflection are lifelines that sustain us when we feel depleted or alone.

Within early childhood settings, our communities of practice offer precisely the conditions that nurture hope: spaces where we can show up authentically, share our challenges and insights, and rediscover pedagogical purpose in the company of others. When we document together, reflect together, and imagine together, we cultivate environments in which hope can take root and flourish. When we share our truths, when we allow others to bear witness to our journeys, something shifts. We remember that we are not alone.

Being in relationship and dialogue with others stretches us beyond our own limited perspectives. It challenges us, unsettles us, and disorients us in the best possible way! Because in that disorientation, in the mingling of different lives and stories, we find new ways of seeing. New ways of being.

Brené Brown (2017, p. 40) reminds us, “True belonging doesn’t require you to change who you are; it requires you to be who you are.” In the presence of authentic community, we are invited to show up as ourselves, and it is there that hope, resilience, and well-being find room to grow.

Walking Backwards into the Future

The Māori whakataukī kia whakatōmuri te haere whakamua—“I walk backwards into the future with my eyes fixed on my past”, offers a profound metaphor for how we might navigate uncertainty.

If we walk into the future with our eyes open to the lessons of the past, then advocacy is not just about speaking up, it is about remembering, honoring, and transforming. Resistance is not just about pushing back, it is about carrying forward what must not be forgotten.

Change is not a distant hope, it is a choice we make, step by step, with intention. A WILL and a WAY.

So as we move forward, let us do so with both wisdom and urgency, knowing that the future is not something that just happens to us, it is something we create. Together, we shape the early childhood landscape with care and intention, nurturing a hopeful future where everyone thrives.

Hope is not a static feeling, it is a verb with its sleeves rolled up after all. It is a practice of welcoming this complexity, honouring our vulnerabilities, seeking joyful encounters, and leaning into community.

This is the tapestry we weave together, a tapestry threaded with stories of hope, challenge, beauty, and possibility.

This tapestry is a memory quilt made with Matts clothing. A reminder of who he was and what he stood for.

Questions for Reflection

As we continue to engage with an unknown and complex future, we might ask ourselves:

• What might help me journey with more hope, confidence, and courage?

• What are some actions I can take for living with hope as a daily practice?

• How can I support my colleagues and my community to cultivate a hopeful way forward - what actions will we start to take?

References

Baird, J. (2020). Phosphorescence: On awe, wonder and things that sustain you when the world goes dark. 4th Estate.

Brown, B. (2010). The gifts of imperfection: Let go of who you think you're supposed to be and embrace who you are. Hazelden Publishing.

Brown, B. (2017). Braving the wilderness: The quest for true belonging and the courage to stand alone. Random House.

Snyder, C. R. (1994). The psychology of hope: You can get there from here. Free Press.