I just completed my last day of the school year for the preschool where I work. I am exhausted, my back hurts, my make-up is smudged, my hair looks like I’ve been standing on my head all day, I have paint on my fingers and shirt, and I have a boo-boo – sorry, I mean I have a scrape – on my elbow. After being in the trenches for five hours today, I joyously display my highest award to date: a Bandaid in camo print. My choices were either Paw Patrol or the camo, but the last Paw Patrol Bandaid was snatched up by a far more deserving soldier in my care.
Before I ever started working in a preschool, I never gave much thought to exactly what was involved in a preschool curriculum. I never attended preschool as a child, but I remember recognizing colors and learning to count in kindergarten, and then learning reading and simple arithmetic in the first grade.
Well, not anymore! Re-adjust all of those lessons to two years sooner, and you now have the basic preschool curriculum. Add to that a science study, music, art, drama, and chapel. Having never worked in a preschool until this year, I was wondering if four and five year olds would be able to learn all of this information at such a young age. It seems that I had forgotten my own teaching axiom: The best way to get someone to do well is to let them know how well they’re doing.
Teaching in a preschool is like plunging into a cross-section of every personality and culture of society. We have our quiet, laid back ones, our aggressive ones, our bilingual ones, our grumpy/argumentative ones, our enthusiastic and self-motivating ones. We also have artistic and sensitive ones, and those who couldn’t care less about coloring within the lines. However, they are all exactly alike in their desire to be loved, accepted, cherished, and to have a purpose. Yes, even very young children don’t want to participate if they think that their contribution has no significance. That’s why they yell out their answer to a question and then get angry when someone else tries to answer it before they do. They want to get the credit and attention before their classmate does. I’m sure we all know an adult who behaves the same way! Oh wait, we all behave that way. No matter our age, we all crave significance and love… and we want to have a voice.
Our job as teachers is to help these little ones find that significance and voice before they look in the wrong places. I wonder — what age do we hit when we begin thinking that our significance must be earned? Most children are aware of how important they are within their families, so when they are young, they seem to laugh, speak up, say whatever is on their minds without the slightest hesitation. They just say it without being even slightly aware of discretion or rudeness! They interrupt, because how could anything they have to say not be a priority?
Then we all reach “that age” at some point. We think, “Oh, I could never say that out loud in front of all these people; I’ll be laughed at…or dismissed!” When did that happen? Who or what taught us that? Or, who did not encourage us that our opinion mattered? We want to teach all of the children manners, kindness, and the immense value of friendship. It’s also crucial that they know that their thoughts and their presence is so important to us.
The most triumphant feeling at the end of the school year comes from hearing the groans of disappointment when the kids are told, “No, I won’t be seeing you next week – this was the last day of school!”
Working with children is hard. It’s physically exhausting, emotionally exhilarating, wildly joyful, sometimes heartbreaking, and always an honor. I will happily display my boo-boo –oops, sorry, I did it again (now a habit) – my camo Bandaid with pride. The scrape may be superficial and temporary, but it’s a reminder of a permanent and deep change of perspective and influence. It’s a medal of honor.
Dance on.
Grace Notes 