It is 1984. I’m six-years-old. I’m immersed in a bout of pretend play with my friends, Cheryl and Robin. I’m the princess and Robin is the queen. Poor Cheryl has to play the boy. She is the King. Our play area backs up to wooded lot and we are allowed in them as long as we can still see the teachers. We play for a full hour before it is time to go back inside. In the classroom again, we are fully energized and excited to sing, “Little Bunny Foo Foo” in chorus with our teacher. Next, we’ll listen to a story and maybe learn a letter of the alphabet.
This memory comes from the past -- just over 30 years ago. When I think of Kindergarten, this is what I recall: plenty of storytelling, hours of playtime, cooking in the classroom, singing songs, and learning my alphabet - all of them happy memories. Fast-forward 30 years, and my oldest daughter is entering kindergarten. Only she is five-years-old, one year younger than I was when I had these memorable experiences. And kindergarten has drastically changed.
Read the rest at Balanced and Barefoot.
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