The problem with awards in the early years sector is that, historically, very few people outside the sector have ever heard of them. A brief ceremony, a few well-dressed teachers, courteous applause, and a printed certificate that would eventually be displayed above a coffee maker in a staff room in Drogheda or Limerick. For years, that was the beat. Silent, kind, and mostly undetectable.
The ripple hasn’t really stopped since OMEP Ireland took a slightly different action.
It started, as these initiatives frequently do, with a single national award honoring an early childhood educator whose work had, by all accounts, been neglected for decades. The trophy itself wasn’t what made the occasion unique. OMEP Ireland made that decision in response to the ensuing attention. Rather than ending the story at the podium, the chapter extended the discussion by framing the award as a question directed at the entire nation: if this work is important enough to be celebrated, why doesn’t it pay enough to continue?
Even though it seems straightforward, that question has a tendency to linger.
The nature of the work is familiar to anyone who has worked in an Irish crèche on a soggy Tuesday morning. The smell of disinfectant and porridge. The heater hums softly, never quite making it to the corner where the reading mat is located. By lunchtime, teachers were kneeling on the ground for hours, their voices hoarse and their knees stiff. It is labor-intensive, patient, and skilled work that has been compensated for far too long as though it were unskilled thinking. People in the industry believe that the Irish government has been aware of this for years and has politely decided not to investigate further.
The light’s angle was altered by OMEP Ireland’s strategy. The chapter made it more difficult to distinguish between the celebration of one educator and the structural issues that lingered behind her by linking the award to more extensive research, such as the kind of work published in its own Journal of Early Childhood Studies, including Arlenne Heeney’s meticulous 2021 paper on the Early Years Education-Focused Inspections. In an early childhood setting, what does quality really mean? Who makes the decision? And how can we continue to put more demands on educators while sometimes paying them less than the employees who stock the shelves at the nearby SuperValu?
The timing might have been advantageous. Early in 2026, the Department of Children, Disability, and Equality began its National Conversation on Education. By March, the online survey had gathered close to twelve thousand responses. In an official capacity, parents, childminders, practitioners, and providers were all abruptly asked what their true opinions were. For years, OMEP Ireland had been posing similar queries. Looking back, the award seems like a sort of first step.
The fact that the discussion extended beyond the typical audience is noteworthy. Early childhood educators began to be mentioned by name in local radio segments. Opinion pieces were published in publications that typically deal with healthcare or housing. The Irish chapter’s framing—that acknowledgment without compensation is ultimately a form of courteous insult—was amplified even on Instagram by OMEP’s international affiliates.
No one in OMEP Ireland is acting as though there is still much work to be done. There has been no revision to pay scales. Each year, the industry still loses skilled workers to retail and hospitality. However, the public’s attitude has changed, at least in part because one chapter decided that an award ceremony didn’t have to end when the lights came up.
As you watch this happen, it’s difficult to ignore the fact that sometimes the smallest actions have the most impact.
