Curriculum

Over two weeks have passed since Blue and Green started kindergarten, and we're beginning to get into a bit of a rhythm. Of note is the fact that we've been on time every single day, even with the double breakfasting, the dressing, the lunch packing, the snack packing, the form signing (twice), the water bottle filling, the car loading, and the car unloading. I'm always a little sweaty by the time the bell rings, but the kids are as cheerful about a new school day as I am about a frozen margarita on a hot beach.

The hardest thing for me has been the fact that I don't really know what's going on for them during the day. In the afternoons, I ask for an update, and I usually get a gossipy story about kids who didn't follow the rules (pronounced woo-wuls). Most of these rules seem to concern having kids SHUT UP. Here are a few, in Blue and Green's words:

1) Don't shout out to another teacher who's with another class when you're in line because you need to be quiet because it will disturb other classes that have their windows open.

2) Don't talk during directions

3) No talking unless you raise your hand

4) If you need to talk, don't talk in a mean way

and

5) After lunch, try to get into two lines and don't talk until you get around the corner and if you do it well the principal will give a silent cheer.

I happen to know that there are a few other rules, because I received the school's six page "code of conduct" during the first week. In addition to SHUTTING UP, here are some of the other guidelines:

1) No pocket chains

2) Summer clothing should be reflective of an educational institution and not that of a beach party (this is a direct quote!)

3) Flush toilets

and

4) Wood chips stay on the ground at all times.

OK, so I get it. Rules are important. But what are they learning? What are they doing all day? It's hard to tell. One day earlier this week, I asked the boys what they did in class. They answered, "Today we played with dead birds!" Ummm.....what? Is this for an important unit on taxidermy? Guess what, boys? I have a new rule! Wash your hands after every lesson!

My gap in knowledge about the school day was concerning, so I was happy that our teacher held "curriculum night" on Thursday. At 5:45, 20 parental sets squeezed our big bottoms into teeny chairs and learned that our little geniuses would exit kindergarten 1) reading; 2) writing; and 3) certainly able to stand in line without talking. We learned about science ("preserved" birds = observing the natural world), math, and literature. We learned about field trips (school buses!), birthday parties, and art.

I was pleased. It seemed like a rich curriculum that both had a purpose and was reasonably creative. But there's one thing that still nags at me: homework. Yes, homework. For kindergartners. I don't know why I'm surprised. After all, my two five year olds need to be able to compete with five year olds in China and India, and God knows that those other kids have been up to speed on dead birds for years now. But, man. Homework? I guess that I have a Leave It To Beaver-esque notion of what childhood should be. You know, you come home from school, throw down your backpack, and go play kick-the-can with the neighborhood kids until dinner. Homework complicates that image.

Of course, if I'm honest about it, it's vexing that their homework is really my homework. And I could tell that other parents were agitating about this, too. After the curriculum night presentation was over, there was a line-up of nervous mommies in designer jeans waiting to talk to the teacher. And I could hear the questions:"OK, it says on the homework sheet that Junior needs to read more than two books for twenty minutes every night and then fill out this form. I'm reading chapter books with him, so can we read more than two chapters, or do we need to read several of those long books every night?" or "I've already taught Poopsie how to do long division. This homework is too easy for me....I mean, her. Can we adapt it to include some pre-calculus?" And in my case, I notice that I'm approaching their homework the way I used to approach my own, by putting it off until the last minute. That way, the work itself might not be interesting, but it becomes a huge! alarming! emergency! that can add a little drama into an otherwise dull afternoon.

For their part, Blue and Green love doing homework.



They think it's fabulous, no matter how mundane the task. "Okay guys," I said the other day. "It says here that you have to go count all the cans in the pantry." "There are twenty!" they hooted, after pulling out and examining all the cans of beans and vegetable soup. "Actually," I replied,"There are nineteen. I'm throwing this one away because it expired in 2004."

One of their favorite activities had to do with leaves. They were supposed to gather 10 leaves and then sort them by size and color. We put on our shoes and trekked to the park. I said, "This is homework, boys. You need to find 10 leaves." Off they went, while I rested on a bench. When they returned, this is what they had with them:



Overachievers, already.