The Renegade Kindergarten Teacher
For small-town Indiana in the mid-1970s, my grandmother was quite a rebel. Mamaw was a kindergarten teacher who wore pantsuits, scoffed at organized religion (despite being a preacher's wife), and read -- and shared -- all sorts of scandalous literature. She gave me my first copies of The Progressive, Ms. Magazine, and Mother Jones, exposing me to ideas that hadn't even begun to penetrate the Republican stronghold where I grew up.
She also gave me Summerhill, A.S. Neill's account of the long-running free school he began in the 1920s, a school where children participated in making all major decisions and had near-complete freedom to pursue their own interests. Classes were optional; hobbies and passions were encouraged; children's choices were respected.
The book electrified me, a 12-year-old who was bored by school but unaware of any alternatives -- and made such a lasting impression that it helped steer me, three decades later, toward exploring unschooling, free schooling, and other educational alternatives for my kids.
But I've also been deeply influenced by the way Mamaw ran her kindergarten classes. Way back in the 1970s, she had a principal who would now be a big champion of standardized tests and No Child Left Behind. He wanted the kindergarteners sitting in desks, marching in lines, and studying non-stop, and he and my grandmother clashed continually.
I remember one story in particular quite well. Mamaw used to set up water tables for the kids out on the playground, with an assortment of cups and bowls so they could scoop and pour the water. "Children just love it," she would say. "It fascinates them and soothes them."
The first time she did it, the principal stormed out to confront her, outraged that she was doing something so frivolous. She pointed to the measuring cups and calmly announced, "We're learning fractions."
There are so many things I'd love to discuss with Mamaw now that my kids are at the age to play with water tables, finger paint with pudding, and otherwise learn from her freespirited example. I visited her last week in Richmond -- she's 94 -- but while she knew who I was and was happy to see my kids, she's just not herself anymore. I tried to remind her of the water table story, and she looked at me blankly: She didn't remember that she had ever been a kindergarten teacher, much less a renegade one.
Postscript: On January 2, 2008, at the age of 95, Mamaw passed peacefully away. I was alone with her, my arms around her, as she took her last failing breaths. May her rebel spirit live on.
She also gave me Summerhill, A.S. Neill's account of the long-running free school he began in the 1920s, a school where children participated in making all major decisions and had near-complete freedom to pursue their own interests. Classes were optional; hobbies and passions were encouraged; children's choices were respected.
The book electrified me, a 12-year-old who was bored by school but unaware of any alternatives -- and made such a lasting impression that it helped steer me, three decades later, toward exploring unschooling, free schooling, and other educational alternatives for my kids.
But I've also been deeply influenced by the way Mamaw ran her kindergarten classes. Way back in the 1970s, she had a principal who would now be a big champion of standardized tests and No Child Left Behind. He wanted the kindergarteners sitting in desks, marching in lines, and studying non-stop, and he and my grandmother clashed continually.
I remember one story in particular quite well. Mamaw used to set up water tables for the kids out on the playground, with an assortment of cups and bowls so they could scoop and pour the water. "Children just love it," she would say. "It fascinates them and soothes them."
The first time she did it, the principal stormed out to confront her, outraged that she was doing something so frivolous. She pointed to the measuring cups and calmly announced, "We're learning fractions."
There are so many things I'd love to discuss with Mamaw now that my kids are at the age to play with water tables, finger paint with pudding, and otherwise learn from her freespirited example. I visited her last week in Richmond -- she's 94 -- but while she knew who I was and was happy to see my kids, she's just not herself anymore. I tried to remind her of the water table story, and she looked at me blankly: She didn't remember that she had ever been a kindergarten teacher, much less a renegade one.
Postscript: On January 2, 2008, at the age of 95, Mamaw passed peacefully away. I was alone with her, my arms around her, as she took her last failing breaths. May her rebel spirit live on.
posted by Leslie Kauffman at 10:50 AM
4 Comments:
Your grandmother sounds like one of those wise seniors from the movies, you know?
I think schools tend to destroy kids spirt, rather than embrace their natural desire to learn.
You can talk about it at the Education, Homeschooling, & Unschooling Forums.
I had kind of a screwed-up childhood, but finding a copy of SUMMERHILL as a 10-year-old literally changed my life - it turned me into a utopian, a condition that has lasted to this day. My friend Kristen teaches at a Brooklyn school based on Neill's philosophy and swears by it...
That's quite wonderful, Jason, to know we were both influenced so deeply by the same book. I assume your friend teaches at the Brooklyn Free School? It's an option we're considering seriously for our kids when they reach that age -- maybe you could give me Kristen's contact info (by email, natch).
One thing that struck me when I reread SUMMERHILL as a 42-year-old parent, though, is that Neill's brand of freedom came at a real price: a dramatic separation of children from their parents. Summerhill, after all, has always been a boarding school, and even very young children there are away from their parents 24/7 for months at a time.
There are plenty of families in which this kind of separation could be healthy or advantageous for the kids -- but I'm not sure I'd call it the utopian ideal. And interestingly enough, Neill doesn't once address the emotional consequences of this separation on kids.
Hi!
I too am a Mom of twins, girls. They are 19 months old.
If I were to add your blog to my blog and click on your ads daily, would you be willing to do the same for me?
I thought us Mom of Twins need to stick together, right?
Monica in California
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