The big lessons in the death of a guinea pig

Putting notes in Amigo's shoebox coffin

Our parent-teacher relationship is still new, and I was reminded of that last week, just after Amigo died.  Soon after I sent the email detailing the quirky way I let children discover death, I ran into Karen, Winslow’s mom.  Her supportive surprise at how I let the question of whether Amigo was dead or alive hang out there for the girls made me worry.  Did the parents in the class think I was crazy for not giving the girls a definitive statement that "Amigo was dead"?  Yet, the girls’ reactions through the whole death of Amigo and his burial proved that the best way for children to grow is to question and have time to ponder.

When we gathered for circle Monday morning, Amigo was frozen solid, yet looking not too bad wrapped up in the towel.  The girls took a look, and with all the confidence of wise five-and six-year-olds, they pronounced Amigo was dead.  Yep – dead.  If his death had been announced with finality on Friday, the girls would have dissolved into tears, tears which soon would have morphed into more pity for themselves than true sadness at a death.  They would have felt sorry for themselves.  There’s no learning gained in feeling sorry for yourself.  Without all the drama of the tears, they could think and wonder.  By Monday, they were full of questions, and they tested out a lot of beliefs they had heard in other places.  Saying what you believe, or think you believe, is the work of a kindergarten circle.

Saying goodbye

The questioning and wondering continued all week.  Was Amigo in the woods now or was in he in Heaven?  Did God take him?  Was God alive?  What if Amigo woke up in the woods?   Was the body in the woods and the soul in Heaven?  Can we visit him in the woods?  We talked about how people believe different things.  One child explained, "Any animals don't live so long.  The dinosaurs didn't live long."  Then she went on to ask, "People don't live long.  Do they?"   She was trusting her classmates to help her figure out how long humans might live.  She was asking for reassurance.  Her friends were listening carefully to her and quickly offered up their perspectives.

Children often seem to look to adults for answers, and too often, education is about getting to the answer. Yet, I know children often don't want our answers, just as I know learning isn't about the answer. Children want someone to listen to them as they try to unpuzzle the big world they are experiencing.  As adults, we can be in a hurry for our children to learn.  But speed doesn't increase learning - patience does.  By letting questions dangle and mysteries unfold over time, we are enabling our children to learn more deeply.      ~Kristin

Welcome to Stories from the day

Let me tell you a story

As parents, we are thrilled to have stories about our children's lives at school.  The question, "What did you do at school today?" gets you close to zip information.  It's a taxing question for a child, as their days are filled with hundreds of small events.  They can't sort out whether you want to know about what happened in the block area, when they created an excited story for an elaborate building they made with a friend.  Or are you asking about their lunch, which by the way, they didn't like because you forgot and put mayonnaise on the turkey, so they only ate the bread.


We wish our kids would bound in the door of the car or the house and exclaim, "What I did today, you won't believe!"  If they proclaimed that as they raced to greet us, we would know their day probably had at least one happy, amazing adventure, and if they had one great experience, chances are they will want to hurry back to school the next day.


Sometimes we do get bits and pieces, which require a little translation.  Other times you are left wondering if what they are describing is normal or is it a problem.  For example, hearing "I couldn't find anyone to play with" will quicken any parent's heart rate and seems like an immediate alarm.  In many cases, with young children that means "No one wanted to play what I wanted to play, and I didn't want to play what they were playing," and such is a normal occurrence in the fast and ever-changing world of kindergarten play, when children are still operating in an ego-centric framework.

So how do we as parents elicit stories about the day or put into context what our children are telling us?  Hopefully, this blog will help you as the content is intended to be a visual reminder or cue for children to talk about their day - to share their stories.  The postings are mostly a few photos snapped during the week.  Your part is look at them with your daughters and ask them what is going on.  Don't over quiz them.  Take the tidbits you get, and soon,  you'll be able to piece together different parts of her life at school.  I can guarantee she won't be in every picture, and I can guarantee there will be weeks when there is not a posting.  But hopefully, after dinner or on the weekends, you can cozy up together and look through the blog and listen.  Take the lead from her.  I believe she knows the way.

Morning Reader

Greeting our friends

Testing to see if Amigo can read

Sewing lion legs

A visitor from Senegal who had never seen playdough

Getting into the flow

Writing numbers

Painting with care