Lesson Learned

5 has started Kindergarten. I feel bad that I have not endured the emotional outburst that several parents mention as a rite of passage around this time.  Maybe it's because she was in Transitional Kindergarten last year or maybe it's because this child never stops talking and to be honest my ears can use a 4 hour break each day.

Don't get me wrong, I love her with a love that is unparalleled in time or space. I recognize within her a kindred spirit and admire her wild child ways. Most days her constant stream of chatter is one of her more endearing traits. I learn so much from the way she interprets the world around us.

Other times there is not enough coffee in the world for me to keep up and the onslaught is overwhelming, especially if my own monkey brain is spinning. The demand for explanations and the expectation that I have all the answers is daunting. She is not satisfied with a simple "I do not know." or "That's just the way it is, honey." I love this about her. It pushes me to investigate, to think critically, to teach her how to find the answers she requires.

But sometimes there are questions I truly struggle with like, "Mama, why is that man's skin different than ours?" Do I explain about melanin? Delve into race relations? Have a quick geography lesson? Act embarrassed in case he overheard and shush her furiously? I wish I could say it was the first option, but I think we all know the latter was my automatic default.

The truth is, I'm the one who needs answers and if I just take a breath and listen closely she is chock-full of them.

5: "Mama, some people's eyes are different."

Me: "Um, " blushing and stammering, "Yeah, so, um...well, you see.."

5: "Because we don't all see things the same way."

Mind.  Blown.

She doesn't have these society taught misconceptions or prejudices about differences. She is just curious and I am the one who need to follow her lead sometimes about what is appropriate and inappropriate. Because by shushing her and acting like something is wrong, I am inadvertently teaching her that these differences are shameful.

So I'm truly glad that 5 started Kindergarten.  I am learning so much.

It reminded me of this essay from one of my favorite authors:

All I Really Need To Know
I Learned In Kindergarten

by Robert Fulghum

- an excerpt from the book, All I Really Need To Know I Learned in Kindergarten



All I really need to know I learned in kindergarten.
ALL I REALLY NEED TO KNOW about how to live and what to do
and how to be I learned in kindergarten. Wisdom was not
at the top of the graduate-school mountain, but there in the
sandpile at Sunday School. These are the things I learned:


Share everything.

Play fair.

Don't hit people.

Put things back where you found them.

Clean up your own mess.

Don't take things that aren't yours.

Say you're sorry when you hurt somebody.

Wash your hands before you eat.

Flush.

Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you.

Live a balanced life - learn some and think some
and draw and paint and sing and dance and play
and work every day some.

Take a nap every afternoon.

When you go out into the world, watch out for traffic,
hold hands, and stick together.

Be aware of wonder.
Remember the little seed in the styrofoam cup:
The roots go down and the plant goes up and nobody
really knows how or why, but we are all like that.

Goldfish and hamsters and white mice and even
the little seed in the Styrofoam cup - they all die.
So do we.

And then remember the Dick-and-Jane books
and the first word you learned - the biggest
word of all - LOOK.



Everything you need to know is in there somewhere.
The Golden Rule and love and basic sanitation.
Ecology and politics and equality and sane living.

Take any of those items and extrapolate it into
sophisticated adult terms and apply it to your
family life or your work or your government or
your world and it holds true and clear and firm.
Think what a better world it would be if
all - the whole world - had cookies and milk about
three o'clock every afternoon and then lay down with
our blankies for a nap. Or if all governments
had a basic policy to always put thing back where
they found them and to clean up their own mess.

And it is still true, no matter how old you
are - when you go out into the world, it is best
to hold hands and stick together.

© Robert Fulghum, 1990.
Found in Robert Fulghum, All I Really Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten, Villard Books: New York, 1990, page 6-7.