Wednesday, May 18, 2011
You know what the worst part of working with preschoolers is? They kind of fail at committing things to long-term memory. ie they forget you. How do I know this? Kids I worked with last year don't even recognize me this year. And its sad because for 1 whole year, they're my hypothetical children and they hypothetically belong to me. If I actually had children of my own, this is what I would do with them everyday and this is the amount of love and energy I'd invest into them. To give so much and see that a year later, all of it has been forgotten...yeaaah that's sort of saaad.
The child I will miss the most:
Kevin. I wish I could post a picture of him...but since that's not possible, you'll just have to trust me when I say he looks like a Japanese flying squirrel
I aspire to one day have a child of my own just like him - super intelligent, cute as crap, really good at rhyming. My coworkers and I have already made predictions concerning how our kids will one day contribute to society. We've decided that Kevin is going to play a key role in saving the human race from overpopulation and mass food shortages that will inevitably strike in approximately 50 years. He'll be a rapper on the side. After his kindergarten orientation this week, he came to me and screamed "I...CANNOT WAIT...ANOTHER SECOND FOR KINDERGARTEN. I WANT TO GO NOW. I WANT TO LEARN ABOUT EVERYTHING". I asked if he'd miss us all at preschool and he was like 'no. kindergarten is going to be so..amazing!'. That sort of hurt my soul. But then I was like, "you're probably right. You won't miss us because you'll have forgotten about us by then." He'll have forgotten the all those days we spent reading through BBC's Planet Earth textbook, watching Dinosaur Train episodes in our tent 'movie theatre', the countless science experiments he insisted we undertake as a result of our extensive youtube research, creating/illustrating our own adventure stories at the end of the day, drawing really intense treasure maps, the one time he had ever broke down in tears when I told him he would be the last to plant his sunflower seed, always coming to school smelling like seafood, reading 'If You Give A Mouse a Cookie' outside on the picnic table as a wee 4-year-old, and the best weekly creeking adventures.
I've asked my brother and someone else what they remember about their preschool teachers and they both said, "I remember that she was really fat. That's all." I guess I can only hope that I will be remembered for something other than the distribution of my body fat. And I guess I can hope that I haven't ruined any lives, haven't set anyone up for failure, and that these kids will turn out just a tiny bit more awesome as a result of their interactions with me.
The child I will miss the most:
Kevin. I wish I could post a picture of him...but since that's not possible, you'll just have to trust me when I say he looks like a Japanese flying squirrel
I aspire to one day have a child of my own just like him - super intelligent, cute as crap, really good at rhyming. My coworkers and I have already made predictions concerning how our kids will one day contribute to society. We've decided that Kevin is going to play a key role in saving the human race from overpopulation and mass food shortages that will inevitably strike in approximately 50 years. He'll be a rapper on the side. After his kindergarten orientation this week, he came to me and screamed "I...CANNOT WAIT...ANOTHER SECOND FOR KINDERGARTEN. I WANT TO GO NOW. I WANT TO LEARN ABOUT EVERYTHING". I asked if he'd miss us all at preschool and he was like 'no. kindergarten is going to be so..amazing!'. That sort of hurt my soul. But then I was like, "you're probably right. You won't miss us because you'll have forgotten about us by then." He'll have forgotten the all those days we spent reading through BBC's Planet Earth textbook, watching Dinosaur Train episodes in our tent 'movie theatre', the countless science experiments he insisted we undertake as a result of our extensive youtube research, creating/illustrating our own adventure stories at the end of the day, drawing really intense treasure maps, the one time he had ever broke down in tears when I told him he would be the last to plant his sunflower seed, always coming to school smelling like seafood, reading 'If You Give A Mouse a Cookie' outside on the picnic table as a wee 4-year-old, and the best weekly creeking adventures.
I've asked my brother and someone else what they remember about their preschool teachers and they both said, "I remember that she was really fat. That's all." I guess I can only hope that I will be remembered for something other than the distribution of my body fat. And I guess I can hope that I haven't ruined any lives, haven't set anyone up for failure, and that these kids will turn out just a tiny bit more awesome as a result of their interactions with me.
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