"I want to go to Kindergarten!!!!!", Emily flailed and screamed at the top of her lungs as I carted her out of Eric’s classroom. It was Eric’s second day and I had allowed Emily to join me as I walked him to school. I thought she would enjoy seeing a real kindergarten classroom up close. She did enjoy it. She enjoyed it so much that she refused to leave. So while other happy families strolled through the corridors with smiling children, I was lugging a shrieking pre-schooler out of the building.
Despite the tantrum, I’m glad Emily is excited about the idea of attending Kindergarten. Eric was too. And he’s even more excited now that he is in first grade. The public elementary school a few blocks from our house is a fresh, new building filled with pleasant and enthusiastic educators. The principal is a cheerful man who works hard to create a positive and enriching experience for all of the children. It’s a little bit different from my own primary education.
For eight years, from September through June, I sat stiffly at a tiny desk in a cramped classroom in an ancient building. There was no air conditioning to make us more comfortable on the muggy June afternoons and precious heat on the frigid January mornings. I dressed in a dreary uniform every day. The administration had selected drab brown jumpers with a plain white blouse. I wonder if they feared that infusing any color into our dressings would cause a rebellion, anarchy, chaos or worse.
I don’t recollect all of my teachers. Yet what seems to stick with me is how many of them looked drained and surely as they lectured and dictated from in front of the chalk board. I wonder if any of them ever woke up burning with excitement to start their day of building great leaders of the future. I can’t recall the name of our principal. I imagine it was something intimidating like Sister Claudius St. Bernard. She was a stern woman in a starched navy apron with thin lips who wore sensible shoes. Discipline and order reigned and I never had an interaction with her that approached a smile or a kind word.
But I suppose my school days were not completely unpleasant. I remember playing magnificent games of kick ball in the play ground during lunch recess. A more congenial sixth grade nun once read “Charlotte’s Web” to us, making it a favorite of mine to this day. Though our classroom was not a hot bed of new ideas, we were sufficiently schooled in the basics. Still, I often wonder if there shouldn’t have been more.
While my own grade school memories don’t reflect an ideal scholastic setting, I suspect it was pretty typical of the times. I do believe our school tried hard to do what they thought was best given what they had to work with at the time. Still, it comforts me to think that we’ve learned something in the past 30 years about what enriches children. I think many teachers today are better equipped and have a passion for their vocation – at least those that I’ve met.
Every time I visit Eric’s class, my heart runs over. It’s bright and warm and welcoming. The educators are smart, friendly and encouraging. Eric’s teacher has a wealth of knowledge and experience and is always challenging the children with fun and exciting new ways to learn and grow. I guess that’s why I can truly appreciate Emily’s yearning to be a part of the experience as soon as possible. As Emily beat her fists and kicked her legs I smiled slyly and wondered what people would think if I suddenly started stomping and yelling "I want to go to kindergarten too!!"
Despite the tantrum, I’m glad Emily is excited about the idea of attending Kindergarten. Eric was too. And he’s even more excited now that he is in first grade. The public elementary school a few blocks from our house is a fresh, new building filled with pleasant and enthusiastic educators. The principal is a cheerful man who works hard to create a positive and enriching experience for all of the children. It’s a little bit different from my own primary education.
For eight years, from September through June, I sat stiffly at a tiny desk in a cramped classroom in an ancient building. There was no air conditioning to make us more comfortable on the muggy June afternoons and precious heat on the frigid January mornings. I dressed in a dreary uniform every day. The administration had selected drab brown jumpers with a plain white blouse. I wonder if they feared that infusing any color into our dressings would cause a rebellion, anarchy, chaos or worse.
I don’t recollect all of my teachers. Yet what seems to stick with me is how many of them looked drained and surely as they lectured and dictated from in front of the chalk board. I wonder if any of them ever woke up burning with excitement to start their day of building great leaders of the future. I can’t recall the name of our principal. I imagine it was something intimidating like Sister Claudius St. Bernard. She was a stern woman in a starched navy apron with thin lips who wore sensible shoes. Discipline and order reigned and I never had an interaction with her that approached a smile or a kind word.
But I suppose my school days were not completely unpleasant. I remember playing magnificent games of kick ball in the play ground during lunch recess. A more congenial sixth grade nun once read “Charlotte’s Web” to us, making it a favorite of mine to this day. Though our classroom was not a hot bed of new ideas, we were sufficiently schooled in the basics. Still, I often wonder if there shouldn’t have been more.
While my own grade school memories don’t reflect an ideal scholastic setting, I suspect it was pretty typical of the times. I do believe our school tried hard to do what they thought was best given what they had to work with at the time. Still, it comforts me to think that we’ve learned something in the past 30 years about what enriches children. I think many teachers today are better equipped and have a passion for their vocation – at least those that I’ve met.
Every time I visit Eric’s class, my heart runs over. It’s bright and warm and welcoming. The educators are smart, friendly and encouraging. Eric’s teacher has a wealth of knowledge and experience and is always challenging the children with fun and exciting new ways to learn and grow. I guess that’s why I can truly appreciate Emily’s yearning to be a part of the experience as soon as possible. As Emily beat her fists and kicked her legs I smiled slyly and wondered what people would think if I suddenly started stomping and yelling "I want to go to kindergarten too!!"
5 comments:
I went to grade school in Emmaus and we had, for the most part, some very nice teachers - religious and lay educators alike.Then again, we had an exceptional woman as principal. Sr. Aurelia. She was amazing.I think it starts at the top. AND when we went to school I think it depends a lot on the religious Order that was stationed there. We had sisters of St. Francis. They were very kind - all but one - my fourth grade teacher, Sr. Damian was my favorite... she used to let me stay in and eat lunch with her. Now that I am subbing I realize what a huge sacrifice that was for her. Even when you really like a student, you need a break...
Anyway, sorry to ramble on your blog... I hope your kids are able to stay enthused and engaged. So many of them get "lost" along the way.
We had IHMs at my school. I think we had some Sisters of Saint Joseph in HS didn't we? They were the nicest ones I remembered.
Definitely - most of the sisters at Nativity were SSJ's. I don't think there are any religious left there - am I right?
Re religious at Nativity - I don't really know. I have not kept in touch much. :-(
Me neither - but I saw the list on the website...
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