What I learned in kindergarten

I don’t know about you, but I learned more than my ABC’s in kindergarten.

I learned that the wheels on the bus go round and round. And that Elmer’s glue (after it dries) tastes pretty good…err..past tense.

I learned that chocolate milk is worth the extra wait on the crowded lunch line, and nothing can quite compete with mom’s mushy yet delectable P & J sandwiches. I learned that paper mache isn’t for everyone, nap time is overrated and slow and steady will always guarantee you a spot at the back of the line.

But that’s not all I learned. Looking back on that year of wide eyed curiosity, innocence and dripping vulnerability oozing from the very nature of a 5- year old (coupled with a new lens from one semester in post college academia), I see more than meets the eye.

In fact, I’m amazed at the very detail of the sight I see. Why is it I can barely remember the names of the courses I took in college, yet I can vividly picture the aging vision of my very first classroom in kindergarten...that spacious corner classroom at the end of the hall, basking in sunlight streaming through the giant windows...the fuzzy deep blue carpet sprawled under our feet..the rows of miniature rectangular tables stealing the eye’s attention with their fascinating array of colorful crayons, feathers, stickers, stencils, play doe and anything else we could attempt to put in our mouths..The wooden corner cabinets filled to the brim with toys and games ready to unleash our blooming creativities. And of course, that omnipotent gridded chart dauntingly stretched across the black board, documenting our progress of the completion of various milestones, like tying our shoes or coloring in between the lines, meticulously measured in a collection of shiny yellow star stickers.

Yes, kindergarten symbolized the foundation..the building blocks..the road map. What we attained from class every day, we carried home to our families, our playgroups and our imaginary friends and universes. Oh, c’mon, like you didn’t have an imaginary friend too…Maybe Freud got it right..maybe these impressionable and pivotal moments during the first five years of life culminating in a classroom of new sights and sounds represented the beginning and the ending..the first few years of life forever molding and shaping our developing minds and personalities. Or not. Maybe it really was just a time to engage in destructive habits like sucking and spitting and hitting and Barney. Wow. I really am old..he wasn’t even around then.

The point is..I believe kindergarten taught me lessons..life lessons.

It was in kindergarten that I learned that tears equal attention. There I was as a clumsy little 5-year old dawdling off the yellow Super-Trans school bus, Hello Kitty lunch box in one hand and assignment that I failed to understand in the other…both to be drenched in tears five minutes later as my angelic mother bent down to retrieve the crumpled piece of paper and decode the teacher’s instructions as best she could while simultaneously soothing her daughter’s scathing temper tantrum. Yes, to this day, I still instinctively break into hysterics when I experience crisis, attention seeking or not...minus the lunch box.

It was in kindergarten that I learned that lemons are sour and that I’d therefore be pretty useless in a rescue team squad. Remember that game where the teacher blindfolds you (no, not that kind of game you sickos), and places an item of food under your nose in order for you to experience different sensations using the five senses. Well, let’s just say, my five senses didn’t fare too well and the traumatic revelation of witnessing howling laughter from my peers and blatant disapproval from my teacher stemmed from my blundering mistake of calling the lemon sweet, not sour. Hmm…what was the feel good moral there…my nose doesn’t really work.

I learned that teachers can brand you even at your cutest and most endearing stage in life. For instance, my teacher made a point of telling my parents, much to their discomfit, that their daughter would proceed to get “lost in the woodworks.” Her words. What exactly does this mean you ask? Exactly what it sounds like..my body and voice would always be stifled by the louder and more dominant presence of those around me..basically that I would be a a drifter, a loner, a loser. Thanks Mrs. Parroly. I’m so glad that my polite manners and non-threatening demeanor toward my classmates reflected so positively in my parent teacher report. I don’t know what’s sadder.. that this is the only comment I remember receiving from my kindergarten teacher or that this is one of the only comments from a teacher which I have consciously internalized and carried with me 18 years later. I’m not trying to be melodramatic. I do set out to write optimistic and uplifting blogs about the wonders of such and such..and yet..somehow I end up plummeting down that cynical spiral. Ouch.

My point is not to construe the devious nature of kindergarten teachers. In actuality, one of the most important life lessons I learned in kindergarten has stayed close to my heart years later. I learned that life can be painful, but with a little tweaking, we can find ways to allievate or mask the pain. During one of the last classes, I remember everyone sitting side by side in a lopsided circle tearfully saying goodbye to our teacher’s helper on her last day with us..no, not goodbye..”so long”..or rather, “so long, we’ll meet again soon.” She advised that saying “so long” was a much better and easier way of parting with an important person or place in life. And boy, was she right. Till this day, I would much rather say.."so long, I’ll see you soon” than bid a final goodbye..even when it is blatantly final. To this day, I cringe at goodbyes. I stiffen at the thought of teary embraces, empty dorm rooms, naked stages. I would much rather live in an ignorant bliss than a bitter reality. Defense mechanism 101.

And you thought snack time was the only thing you could remember about kindergarten.
Start digging.
There’s more to it than the ABC’s.

So, what did you learn in kindergarten?