Cody Topp is the CEO of TOPP KIDS and Chair of the School Age Care Directors Association of Alberta (SACDA). A committed leader and advocate in the school-age care sector, he works to strengthen out-of-school care through policy, community partnerships, workforce development, and sector-wide advocacy. His work is grounded in the belief that school-age care is an essential part of healthy childhoods, strong families, and thriving communities.
Teaching Children to Matter
Why the future of out-of-school care depends on whether educators feel it too
After reading the Harvard Center on the Developing Child’s working paper, Mattering in Early Childhood: Building a Strong Foundation for Life, I felt compelled to put words to something many of us in out-of-school care have known for years, even if we have not always had the language to describe it. The paper is thoughtful, deeply human, and incredibly important. More than that, it is timely. It takes a concept that can sound simple at first — mattering — and shows just how foundational it is to healthy development, emotional well-being, resilience, and our sense of purpose in the world.
For those of us who lead child care organizations, this idea lands with particular force. In out-of-school time, afterschool, and school-age care, we work in a space that is too often undervalued or misunderstood, even while families rely on it every day and children are shaped by it in lasting ways. Ours is a sector built on relationships, carried by dedicated educators, and sustained, more often than not, by passion. But passion alone is not enough to keep people well. It is not enough to protect against burnout or carry a workforce through high stress, low wages, and the emotional demands of care work. What keeps people anchored, even in difficult seasons, is something deeper: the belief that what they do matters, that who they are matters, and that their presence is felt.
In many ways, mattering is exactly what we are trying to teach every day. It is what we build into children when we help them find their voice, when we encourage them to lead, when we invite them to contribute, and when we show them that their ideas, effort, and presence have value. We want children to grow up with the confidence that they can make a difference and that they have something meaningful to offer the world. Isn’t that what we hope for all young people — that they go out into the world believing they matter, and then live in a way that helps others feel the same?
That is what makes this paper so powerful. It does not speak about mattering as a soft extra. It presents it as essential. The authors describe mattering as both feeling valued and adding value — knowing that you are significant to others and knowing that your contributions make a difference. In our field, that distinction feels especially important. We often speak about belonging, and rightly so. But belonging and mattering are not the same. A person can belong to a workplace, a classroom, or a team and still feel unseen within it. Mattering goes further. It answers the deeper question: not just “Am I here?” but “Do I matter here?”
In out-of-school care, that question lives everywhere. It lives in the educator arriving early to prepare a welcoming environment. It lives in the staff member who notices the child on the fringe and gently helps them find their place. It lives in the team leader holding together behavior support, family communication, programming, and the emotional tone of the room. These moments are rarely glamorous, and they are often invisible to the outside world. But they are not small. They are the work.
The Harvard paper makes clear that mattering is not only central to children; it is deeply connected to the well-being of the adults around them. When adults feel valued, supported, and significant, they are better able to provide the kind of attuned, responsive care that helps children thrive. When adults are carrying chronic stress, disconnection, or a diminished sense of their own worth, that strain spills over. Anyone who has led in this sector knows this is true. We see it in morale, in culture, in retention, and, if we are honest, in ourselves.
For years, many of us were told not to chase passion alone when choosing our life’s work, because passion can flare brightly and then fizzle under pressure. Instead, we were encouraged to find something deeper — something that drives us, roots us, and gives us purpose. Reading this paper, I kept coming back to that idea. Perhaps what people are really searching for is not just passion, but mattering: the steady knowledge that what they do has meaning, that their efforts count, and that their contribution reaches beyond themselves. In a sector like ours, that truth matters immensely. And if that is what adults need to stay grounded in their work, then surely it is also what we want to instill in children — not just the confidence to succeed, but the confidence to matter.
This is why mattering feels so critical in early childhood education and school-age care, particularly in a workforce long asked to do essential work without essential recognition. In that kind of environment, mattering becomes the glue. It is what keeps educators connected to purpose when the system offers too few other reinforcements. It is what reminds leaders that people are not just positions to fill or schedules to manage, but human beings whose sense of value shapes the quality of care they can offer.
From a leadership perspective, that has serious implications. Culture cannot be built only around compliance, efficiency, or performance. Those things matter, but they are not enough. If people do not feel seen, heard, trusted, and relied upon, no policy manual will create the depth of commitment healthy programs require. Leaders in our sector need to understand that mattering is built in practical ways: in whether someone’s voice is listened to, whether their effort is acknowledged, whether they are invited to shape the work, and whether their contribution is connected back to the larger mission. As ECEs, we also know that reflective practice matters here. When teams pause to reflect on their day, their relationships, and the environments they create, they are often better able to identify where mattering is being strengthened and where it is being missed. Reflection helps us notice the quiet child who is not yet contributing, the educator whose efforts are going unseen, or the routine that could become a moment of leadership, connection, or purpose.
What moved me most in reading this paper was how clearly it affirmed something I have seen across teams, sites, and communities: when people know they matter, they rise. Children rise. Educators rise. Teams rise. There is more resilience, more ownership, more patience, and more care. And the reverse is just as true. When people feel invisible, interchangeable, or chronically undervalued, something begins to erode, sometimes quietly, but steadily.
Out-of-school care has always been about more than filling hours before school, after school, or on non-instructional days. At its best, it is where children build confidence, relationships, leadership, and identity. It is where they begin to understand that they are not just participants in a program, but people with value to add. If we are serious about preparing children for life, then this may be one of the most important things we can offer them: the belief that they matter, and the experience of contributing in ways that prove it to them.
But if we are serious about building those kinds of environments for children, then we must be just as serious about building them for the adults who create them. We cannot ask educators to cultivate mattering for children while leaving them to operate in systems that make them feel disposable.
That is why this working paper matters so much. It does not just offer a developmental framework. It offers a challenge. It asks us to think more deeply about the environments we create, the messages we send, and the kind of sector we are building. After reading it, I was inspired to share my thoughts because the conversation feels too important to leave on the page. In a field like ours, where so much is driven by heart, mattering is not sentimental. It is structural. It is cultural. It is human. And I believe, more than ever, that in early childhood education and out-of-school care, it may be one of the most important forces holding people to their purpose.
If our sector wants stronger teams, healthier cultures, and better outcomes for children, then perhaps one of the most powerful questions we can ask is also one of the simplest: Do our people know they matter? Because if we want children to leave our programs ready to matter in the world, they first need to be surrounded by adults who know, deeply and clearly, that they matter too.
Strengthening Mattering in Practice: What Programs Can Do
If mattering is as foundational as this research suggests, it cannot remain a concept we admire from a distance. It has to be built into the daily life of our programs. Programs strengthen mattering when leaders notice people, not just performance; when educators are trusted with real responsibility; and when children are given genuine opportunities to contribute, lead, and help shape their environment. Reflective practice is key here. As ECEs, we know that when teams pause to reflect, they are more able to identify missed opportunities for voice, recognition, contribution, and connection. In practical terms, strengthening mattering may mean stronger mentorship, more visible appreciation, shared leadership, and more intentional ways of linking daily work back to purpose. Small acts, repeated consistently, are often what make mattering real.
Building a culture of mattering does not require sweeping change—it requires consistent, intentional action. Programs can begin by:
Small, consistent signals build a powerful message over time: you are seen, you are valued, and what you do here matters.
