As a daycare provider, I have the privilege of watching children grow, learn, and navigate their emotions every day. It’s a responsibility that I don’t take lightly. Each child is a little bundle of potential, brimming with curiosity, creativity, and the need for connection. But alongside this joyful exploration of the world comes the inevitable challenges: tantrums, defiance, and moments of sheer frustration. In those moments, it can be easy to raise our voices, to yell out of exasperation or a desperate attempt to regain control. But I’ve learned, through both experience and reflection, that yelling at children, especially preschoolers, can be deeply harmful. When we yell at young children, we are not just raising our voices; we are, in a very real sense, shattering a part of their world. Preschoolers are incredibly sensitive to the emotions of adults, particularly those they rely on for safety and comfort. When a caregiver yells, it’s not just the volume that impacts them—it’s the fear and confusion that accompanies it. In their eyes, we are their protectors, their guides in this big, overwhelming world. Yelling shakes that foundation, making them question whether they are safe, whether they are loved, and whether they are inherently “good.” The impact of yelling goes beyond the immediate moment of fear. It seeps into their developing sense of self. At this age, children are just beginning to form their self-concept. They are learning who they are in relation to others, and much of that understanding comes from how they are treated by the adults in their lives. When we yell, we inadvertently send the message that they are not worthy of calm, understanding, or patience. Over time, this can chip away at their self-esteem, leaving them feeling small, powerless, and undeserving of kindness. I’ve seen firsthand how children who are frequently yelled at begin to internalize those harsh tones. They start to expect negativity, to the point where they may even preemptively withdraw or act out because they believe that anger is what they deserve. This cycle is heartbreaking, as it often leads to a child becoming more difficult, not less—exactly the opposite of what we, in our frustration, may have hoped to achieve. But the consequences of yelling don’t just stop at a child’s self-esteem. They ripple out into the kind of person that child will grow up to be. A child who has been frequently yelled at may grow into an adult who struggles with confidence, who fears taking risks, or who has difficulty managing their own emotions. They may carry that learned fear with them into relationships, into school, and eventually into their careers. The voice of a yelling adult can echo in a child’s mind long after the shouting has stopped, shaping their inner dialogue and influencing their interactions with the world. As someone who cares deeply for the children I work with, this is not the future I want for them. I want them to grow up feeling secure in who they are, knowing that they are valuable and loved, even when they make mistakes. I want them to learn from their missteps in an environment that supports their growth, not one that tears them down. Yelling may seem like a quick fix in a moment of chaos, but it’s a fix that comes with a heavy cost—a cost that our children should never have to pay. Instead, I’ve found that the best approach is one of patience, understanding, and gentle guidance. When we take the time to kneel down to a child’s level, to speak to them calmly, and to explain why certain behaviors are not okay, we teach them not only about right and wrong but also about respect and empathy. They learn that they are worthy of our time and our kindness, even when they falter. And in turn, they grow into adults who carry that same kindness and respect out into the world. So the next time you feel the urge to yell, take a deep breath. Remember that the little person in front of you is learning how to be human, and they need your help to do it well. Let’s choose to be their safe place, their teacher, and their guide, not their source of fear. The children we care for deserve nothing less. This is my opinion. You may have all of it, some of it, or none of it.