On the heels of this year’s Thanksgiving holiday, I am
reminded just how thankful I am for my kindergarten class at Crosshill
Christian School. I have the privilege of teaching eight precious girls and
four precious boys each day. They bring me so much joy—it’s beyond expressing
in words…but I will try.
Some adjectives to describe the various members of my
delightful class: spunky, blunt, sweet, thoughtful, conscientious,
affectionate, tender-hearted, hilarious, intelligent, stubborn, shy, outgoing,
adventurous, hard-working, creative, artistic, energetic, silly, inquisitive,
attentive, kind, eager, confident, encouraging…and all-around endearing.
There’s nothing very subtle about kindergartners. They
pretty much tell it like it is. And sometimes one can’t help but crack up a
bit. Like the time one of my students thought the bluish,
reminiscent-of-the-60s designs on my sleeves were actually arm tattoos. Or how
they love it when Mrs. Kephart makes a “mistake” or tries to “trick” them—they
giggle at some of my on-purpose goofs; little do they know that they’re
solidifying their skills by spotting the errors and correcting them. Oh, and they'll let you know if your hair looks "funky" or if your sweater happens to be hiking up in front.
This is a class I get rave reviews about from substitutes.
And it’s no wonder—they’re amazing! But it really is a miracle I’m actually
teaching them.
You see, I never thought I’d enjoy teaching kindergarten.
And after several years teaching elementary pull-out language arts, that
perspective was confirmed. After all, kindergartners couldn’t write long
stories, they didn’t know all their parts of speech, their reasoning skills
weren’t very developed, they sometimes would cry or even throw tantrums. I
just couldn’t see myself teaching “little people,” who were at the beginning of
the developmental spectrum. And honestly, I didn’t think they’d like me—I
wouldn’t be “fun” enough. I had a lot of reasons, the primary of which was that
I just wasn’t cut out for kindergarten.
And then God opened a door…right into the very thing I had
mentally run from previously. But the thing was—He had changed my heart. Sure,
I still wondered if they’d like me. But I was no longer scared of teaching
kindergarten. As soon as I opened myself to the possibility, God turned it into
a supernatural capability. And not
only that—He filled my heart with such a love for these kids that I couldn’t help but love every aspect of the job
itself.
The truth is—it doesn’t really feel like a “job.” It feels
like I’m fulfilling a calling. It feels like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. And it feels like I’m
even pretty much rocking at it. Now that these kids are “mine,” I can’t imagine
ever having been without them. They are the sunshine, the rainbow, the flowers,
the birds—everything pleasant and joyful. Sure, some have their moments (who
doesn’t?), but I’ll always be grateful for this, my first kindergarten
class—for each individual child represented—and all that they’ve taught me.
In kindergarten, you learn how to smile. You learn to give
hugs. You learn to make mistakes. You learn to laugh at yourself. You learn to make others laugh. You learn to cut
the top off your Gogurt. And you learn that this class is a place to grow.
Well, I already knew the Gogurt part…but I’m growing in all those other ways,
right along with the kids. And we all seem to have a remarkably positive effect
on one another.
Honestly, I couldn’t imagine myself teaching anything but kindergarten this year. I adore my
students. And I am grateful to God for second chances—the chance to experience
His goodness through the eyes and hearts of twelve kindergarten children I get
to call “my class.” They have taught me that kindergartners are extremely
impressive thinkers, that it doesn’t matter at all that I’m not teaching
sentence diagramming or how to change an adjective to an adverb. I’m present in
this moment—and I don’t want to be
anywhere else.
Love you all—Ava, Chloe, Dreyk, Emma, Havalah, Isa, Isaac,
Luke, Maya, Megan, Seth, Zoe. You’re my little owls. ☺
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