Yesterday, as usual, I went to pick up my daughter from the extended day program at her school.
Rada was in her classroom, deep in conversation with her kindergarten teacher, Ms. C. I’ve grown to like and respect Ms. C. over the past few months. She is young enough to be my daughter, but she’s got a good head on her shoulders (unlike myself at that age). Ms. C. genuinely likes the kids in her class, and as far as I can tell she hasn’t been absent one day since the beginning of school.
Slowly but surely Rada has been amassing a foundation of knowledge with Ms. C., and it has been happening with no stress or worries about whether she is ‘good’ enough, or ‘smart’ enough. The learning environment in the classroom is low-key and down to earth.
Ms C says to me, “oh dear, the classroom is really messy right now”. I look around and see signs everywhere of activity and industry. There are art projects drying on the walls. Bins of well-used sorting toys are stacked neatly on the shelves. There is a goldfish in its tank on one table, and a few hand-made books on another. I thought the messy classroom looked great.
After talking with Ms C., Rada and I wandered downstairs to say goodbye to the extended day teacher, Miss Anna. The kids in extended day were in the cafeteria, scooting around the room in a few wheelie-rollers. Some kids were riding the wheelie device, while others were pushing it along. There was lots of running, yelping and activity. And for a cold winter night, I was glad to see the kids so animated.
As we left the building, Rada and I said a quick goodbye to the front desk person Miss Myda and her daughter who hangs out with her at the end of the day.
I realized that I felt at home in this school. I felt a part of the school, that it was my school.
We’re having a good year.
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