Walking on the Woodside: Amherst’s Children’s Center

Editor’s Note, May 7, 2025: This article contains information about the funding of Woodside that is not accurate. Please read this letter to the editor for more information.

A little way past the Alumni Gym and just before Humphries House, a building filled with small voices singing and giggling sits on a quiet street corner. This is Woodside Children’s Center, an independent, nonprofit, infant-preschool care center that primarily serves Amherst College faculty and staff.

Woodside accepts children as young as three months old, a rarity among local early childhood education providers. But it provides more than just childcare: It’s also a community resource for dozens of faculty, many of whom would not be able to balance academic careers and caregiving without it.

But despite the necessity of this organization for Amherst College families, educators and parents have found that Woodside has many flaws that impact children’s care and sense of belonging. The college — despite having a close relationship with the nonprofit — does not provide much-needed funding for Woodside. Now, the center’s student body has outgrown the building it occupies, and parents have found that educational strategies do not ensure children of color are included. Parents and educators at Woodside have stepped up to bring culturally inclusive materials and lessons to the classroom, but the need for support from the college remains.

Woodside: High in Demand Without Full College Support

Founded 40 years ago to provide high-quality early childhood care for Amherst-connected families, Woodside prioritizes admissions for college faculty and staff. As one of the few centers in the area that enroll infants and toddlers under two, this makes the center a lifeline for faculty with very young children, especially given that faculty are limited to a 12-week maternity leave. Applications typically open early in the calendar year, and families are advised to submit as soon as possible, often before they arrive on campus. Assistant Professor of Sociology and Environmental Studies Li Zhang, who is also a faculty representative on the Woodside board, applied while she was seven months pregnant and still living out of state.

“I was told to apply for [childcare] immediately,” she said. “Even before I stepped on campus, I had already dropped off my application at Woodside.”

Despite its deep relationship with the college, the center is not formally operated or funded by Amherst; it remains an independent entity, subject to the financial limitations that come with being a small nonprofit.

Woodside leaders said they appreciate the support given in small ways by the college. According to Woodside Director Sue Dexter, “[Amherst College Facilities] mow our lawn, plow the snow, and fix what’s broken,” but there is not enough sustained investment in the curriculum or the building itself. Until recently, even common benefits given to Amherst staff, such as access to the gym and Valentine Dining Hall, were unavailable to its educators.

Woodside’s Infrastructure Challenges

Dexter, who is deeply proud of the center’s culture, acknowledges the building’s limitations. “If I had one wish, it would be a new facility,” she said. “This one’s charming and full of history, but it wasn’t built for what we’re doing here — [for] multiple classrooms, mobility needs, and the number of children we serve.”

The layout of the building itself includes two floors, separated by a set of stairs which serve as more than just an inconvenience: they create accessibility issues and increase safety risks for both staff and children. Massachusetts regulations state that children cannot go up the stairs until they reach 2.9 years old (about 33 months). This results in there being a large number of children constrained to the first floor for safety.

“That regulation puts a lot of pressure on us to move kids along even if they’re ready, socially, emotionally, or developmentally,” said Dexter.

Additionally, the center is nearly at capacity. With 39 children enrolled (out of 41 licensed spots), full toddler rooms, and infants waiting to move up, the center has little flexibility. “We can’t move babies up because every classroom is full,” she said. “It’s a good problem to have — but it’s still a problem.”

Race at Woodside and the Need for Advocacy

Over Woodside’s 40 years of operation, the number of enrolled children of color has steadily grown, reflecting the increase in faculty of color at Amherst College over the same time period. But even as the demographics change, parents have found that Woodside has not adapted to ensure that all children, regardless of race, are included in the curricula.

Zhang found that there was a lack of access to culturally inclusive books at Woodside, making conversations about inclusion in the classroom more difficult.

While both Assistant Professor of American Studies and Black Studies Jallicia Jolly and Zhang expressed gratitude for the educators at Woodside, they were deeply concerned with children of color’s sense of belonging.

Upon moving to Amherst, Jolly quickly discovered what many parents of color at the college have long experienced: The infrastructure that supports early childhood care at Amherst was lacking, particularly for families of color. Rather than remain silent, Jolly began seeking ways to respond to the concerns parents brought to her by organizing. With the encouragement and support of Woodside teachers like Alanna Williams, Jolly and Zhang began considering the possibilities for inclusive work within the children’s classrooms and beyond.

Together, these women — alongside Dexter — helped launch what would become known as the Belonging Drive: a community-led initiative to bring culturally-inclusive books and materials into Woodside, while also embedding equity, identity, and cultural sensitivity into the heart of its educational mission.

Jolly was quick to emphasize that her work to start the Belonging Drive is part of a much longer, often overlooked struggle. To her Jolly, it seems that faculty and staff of color and queer families have historically shouldered the burden of childcare advocacy alone. Earlier efforts involved a group of college staff who described feeling unsupported and underprotected.

“This didn’t just come out of nowhere,” Jolly said. “Faculty, especially faculty of color, have been raising concerns about Woodside for years. About representation. About inclusion. About basic support. We’ve been fighting for this. The only difference is now we are refusing to be silent about it.”

“For years, we were told childcare wasn’t a priority,” she said. “So we organized.”

Inclusion is Rooted in the Classroom

During Black History Month, Williams and her co-teacher transformed their preschool classroom with portraits of Rosa Parks, Misty Copeland, and Ruby Bridges. They read stories about activism and bravery, danced to African drumming, and talked about skin color with warmth and honesty.

Other classrooms introduced dual-language books, played Indigenous lullabies, and taught basic American Sign Language.

“This wasn’t about add-and-stir diversity,” Jolly said. “We weren’t just adding some books about different cultures. We wanted to move beyond tokenism and think about what it truly means to create belonging.”

“It’s important to talk about race, even with little kids,” Williams said. “When people say ‘I don’t see color,’ that might sound sweet, but it’s not the goal. The goal is to see each other, learn from each other, and build comfort in that.”

Woodside also participates in the Children’s Literacy Initiative, a national program that provides early educators with mentorship and culturally responsive reading strategies.

Recently, Jolly and Wiliams co-led the Belonging Drive to encourage greater cultural awareness and inclusion amongst the center’s children.

Jolly said that her drive for this kind of work came from her daughter being subjected to racial jokes like comments about her skin color and sunscreen, or even references to minstrel caricatures.

“These jokes aren’t made about white children,” she said. “That’s what people don’t understand. The harm is real.”

“We will continue to teach the truth about American history and culture,” she added. “Because if you capitulate in the face of pressure, you were never meaningfully invested in the first place.”

“Teachers came to me asking for basic materials,” Jolly explained. “What they really needed were tools to support inclusion, equity, and cultural humility.”

Some books focused on joy — children baking with their grandparents, having adventures in their neighborhoods — while others gently introduced big themes like grief, immigration, and disability.

Families have volunteered to read stories aloud in their native languages; teachers are swapping materials and ideas across classrooms.

“It’s working,” said Dexter. “And it’s not top-down. It’s community-driven.”

This spring, the center will host a cultural potluck — a new annual tradition inspired by the drive. Parents will bring dishes from their heritage and share stories with one another and the children.

“We want our kids to see the world in the room next to them,” said Williams. “Food is one way we get there.”

Treasuring the Little Moments

Even in the face of limited resources, Woodside is committed to love.

For Dexter, who has led Woodside for years, the heart of the center will always be the children. “There’s nothing like having a baby reach out for you — just trusting you completely,” she said. “I’ve done this work for decades, and it never gets old. I just love it.”

For Williams, the joy is in the little things: watching a toddler take their first wobbly steps, hearing a child pronounce a new word, or seeing them light up during circle time. “These kids become your family,” Williams said.

“There are so many good things happening here,” said Dexter. “We just need people to know we exist.”

This work, this care, this insistence on belonging has been long overdue for the spotlight.

For Jolly, Woodside is a test for whether Amherst is willing to practice the values it often preaches. “This isn’t just about books. This is about structural support,” she said. “If you want to retain faculty of color, if you want to support women in academia, if you want to build a campus rooted in inclusivity and care — then you have to invest in the places that make that possible.”

She envisions a future where Woodside becomes part of Amherst’s formal infrastructure. That would entail full benefits for Woodside teachers, renovated classrooms, and a budget with equity built into it — rather than being dependent on volunteerism.

“How do you marshal the institutional will, the moral courage, and the resources to address these issues in ways that are sustainable?” she asked. “Because we’ve been telling you what we need. The question is whether you're ready to listen.”

As Zhang put it: “If we believe in equity, in access, and in community, then we must invest in the places where those values are taught, modeled, and lived every single day. That means not only supporting Woodside but reimagining what it means to truly belong here.”

Correction, May 7, 2025: This article originally said the Office of Communications did not respond for comment. This was not accurate, and has been removed.