Someone asked me recently, “Why are you so supportive of other childminders? Aren’t they your competition?”
I remember pausing for a moment before answering – not because I didn’t know what to say, but because I realised how deeply I felt the opposite. We are not competition. We are colleagues. We are community. Every single one of us – whether we work from a cosy living room, a busy nursery, or a forest school clearing – is part of the same mission: to nurture, protect, and champion childhood.
Again and again, I’m reminded of just how deeply community matters in this work. Within our shared conversations, there is so much empathy, honesty, and an unspoken understanding of what it truly means to show up each day for children. Many quietly carry the loneliness this role can bring – the stillness at the end of the day, the self-doubt, the sense of not always being fully seen. And yet, woven through it all, is something incredibly powerful: warmth, solidarity, and connection. Because when we choose to stand beside one another rather than compare, we create something truly special – a network of hearts and hands, gently shaping the lives of children together.
The reality behind the role
Childminding, and indeed all early years work, can sometimes feel like a contradiction. It’s full of laughter and joy, yet can be incredibly lonely. We pour our hearts into nurturing others, yet often forget to nurture ourselves. We are trusted with children’s most precious years, yet too often made to feel unseen by the wider world.
And yet – despite the challenges – there is such quiet magic in what we do. The small moments of connection, the first friendships, the sparks of discovery. These are the moments that bind us together, no matter what kind of setting we work in. They remind us that while we might operate independently, we’re never truly alone. Somewhere, another educator is wiping muddy boots, comforting a tearful child, or smiling proudly at a new achievement – just like we are.
The quiet in-between
I think many childminders, in particular, feel this deeply. Working from home means there’s rarely a colleague to debrief with at the end of a long day or share the little triumphs that make it all worthwhile. When I moved from a nursery environment into childminding, that was one of the hardest transitions – not the workload or the responsibility, but the quiet. I missed the conversation, the laughter, the spontaneous chats about children’s play or new ideas.
As wonderful as our friends and families are, it’s different talking to someone who gets it. Who understands the joy of finding a new resource that sparks hours of imaginative play, or the anxiety that bubbles before an Ofsted visit. The truth is, unless you work in early years, it’s hard to explain the emotional weight of this job – the way it stays with you long after the last child has gone home.
That’s why connection between practitioners matters so much. It’s not just about sharing ideas – it’s about being seen. About knowing that someone, somewhere, understands what it feels like to carry the heart of early childhood in your hands every single day.
The strength of togetherness
When one of us shines, it lifts us all a little higher. When one of us struggles, the rest step in – with words of kindness, reassurance, or simply the reminder that we’ve all been there. That’s what makes this community so powerful. It’s not about being the best; it’s about doing our best together.
We are all part of the same ecosystem – every childminder, nursery practitioner, teacher, and leader plays a vital role in shaping early childhood experiences. There’s no hierarchy in heart work. Bigger isn’t better; it’s just different. Each environment offers something unique, and when we celebrate those differences instead of comparing, children are the ones who truly benefit.
The call for compassion
It’s clear just how much this message is needed. Many early years professionals speak about how much they rely on one another – for guidance, reassurance, or simply for someone who truly understands the emotional weight of this work. And yet, there are also those who share how those connections have been lost over time, shaped previously by lockdowns and the ever growing pressures within the sector, leaving many feeling more isolated than ever.
Perhaps that’s why now, more than ever, we need to lead with compassion -both for ourselves and for each other. A kind comment, a message of encouragement, or simply pausing before we respond online can make all the difference. Most of us work alone, but that doesn’t mean we have to feel alone.
Because at the heart of it all, we share the same goal: to nurture children with love, patience, and care. To see them, hear them, and help them grow. And when we extend that same compassion to one another, we build a stronger, kinder sector – one that reflects the very values we hope to pass on to the children in our care.
The quiet power of kindness
Kindness has a way of rippling outwards – often unseen, but always felt. A gentle word, a shared smile, a moment of empathy between colleagues; these small acts create waves far beyond what we ever realise. When we lead with kindness, we remind others of their worth – and in doing so, we keep that kindness moving. It spreads quietly, changing the tone of our days, our settings, and, in time, our entire sector. And this is the power of kindness – it reminds us that the smallest ripples can change the tide.
So here’s to every childminder who shares a resource rather than keeping it to themselves.
To every nursery practitioner who celebrates another setting’s success.
To every educator who reaches out, listens, or says, “You’ve got this.”
You are not competition. You are colleagues. You are community.
And when one of us rises, we all rise a little higher, together.
Guiding The Young Ones 
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