thoughts : "what is this?"

A lot of times, I have to actively check myself before I talk about anything relating to work. I have sixteen kids that I see all week--a lot of things they do are cute or (in my eyes) noteworthy. I try to make sure that whatever I want to say might be interesting to someone besides me, but that can be hard. Watching each child's individual progress gives you more insight about them than most others typically get, so naturally more occurrences that would otherwise seem mundane and pointless are world-changing to me. (I imagine being a parent is that feeling times about six thousand, so no wonder all anyone can ever talk about is their own kid. They're fascinating!)

One direct result of working with preschoolers is having a lot to think about. It's amazing to watch children literally discover the world around them and learn about things that you've taken for granted for years. The term "childlike wonder" is generally thrown around as being pretty cliche, but it's aptly named. Have you ever seen a kid react to the first time sprinklers come on? They all think it's raining and they can't comprehend why the sun is still out and there are no clouds. Everyone forgets about their Goldfish crackers and goes nuts trying to investigate this new development.

At the age I work with, the question I hear most is "what is this?" It sounds fairly simple--three short words, I guess--but this query suddenly has so much to it when you're talking to a child.

It occurred to me the other day and it hasn't really left me since--when a kid asks me, "Miss Katie, what is this?", the answer I give them will literally be the first impression they ever get about the subject in question. Maybe they won't necessarily remember it word for word, but the thought that I could impact how a child comes to view something for the rest of their life--even in the smallest possible way--is sort of mind-blowing. Because of that, you also have to be really careful how you word your answer. It usually generates more questions, and you want to make sure you give them fair responses without overstepping your bounds. One of my girls noticed my tragus piercing awhile ago and asked what it was. When I explained that it was just an earring, she immediately wanted to know why it was in that part of my ear and why I only had it on one side.  A lot of the questions kids come up with would never really occur to an adult on a regular day, so I don't always have immediate answers for them. Other questions they ask don't have apparent answers to me, but they're still expecting something, so I have to make one up--and that's the living worst, because I'm 99% sure they can tell when you have no idea what you're talking about. For being among the world's most innocent, young children have the best skeptical expressions.

The other thing I run into a lot is when I get asked something that's out of their depth. Kids are so curious by nature, it makes sense that they want to know about some of the more complicated things--of course, keeping those subjects clearly off limits just makes them want to know more. For that reason, I've always been sort of for the mentality that if a child is old enough to ask a question, they're old enough to get a straight answer (albeit an age-appropriate one). That, however, is thin ice in the educational field. Not every parent wants you to answer their kid truthfully when they ask about things like death or why walking around with your pants around your ankles isn't really acceptable in most social settings. Now, personally, I don't have an issue with a lot of those topics--I feel like the concept of sheltering kids to protect them from harsher realities is only a temporary fix and can be more harmful in the long run than just being straight with them. I, however, am not a parent, so I'm sure my views on that count for exactly negative two points. (And that's okay.) It does force me to get a little bit creative with the way I do my job, though. A lot of things we're supposed to tell them are "wrong" aren't really, it's just simpler for now to let them think they are.

I'll illustrate:

Child: So-and-so kissed me!
Me: (Oh, Jesus. My job is to tell these kids that's not okay to do, but I don't want them growing up thinking there's some stigma to being affectionate.) Oh, well...we don't do that at school.
Other Child: Well, why not? Is there something wrong with it? I just wanted to show Child she was my friend!
Me: (I mean, no, not if both parties are consenting and there aren't any misunderstandings going on...these kids are three years old, I can't explain the mechanics of consent to them yet. I'd be so fired. How do I get out of this one?) Well--no, not really, but we usually just save kissing for with our moms and dads. (Good one, Katie.)
Child: (skeptical) Then how come moms and dads kiss each other?
Me: (Whatever you do, don't feed them that bullhockey about only married people getting to kiss each other, Katie. Figure out something else, but for God's sake, don't perpetuate those oppressive social norms.) Well...uhm. You know what? We don't kiss each other at school because we can give each other our germs without meaning to, and that would make us very sad if one of you got sick. But moms and dads don't get sick very easily, do they?
Child: Hmm...no, I guess they don't.
Me: But kids do, because your bodies are still learning to fight off germs. So you see? Let's just stick to giving hugs at school if you want to be friends.

Now, that's an example of a conversation I actually have to have a lot. It's not really the strongest answer you can give a kid on that subject (and believe you me, the matter of personal space comes up daily), but that's just what I mean. It'd be so much easier if you could be open with them, but it's definitely not an option without infringing on the privacy and comfort of individual family values.

In that sense, I both enjoy and am made slightly nervous by the questions children come up with. On  one hand, I love hearing what observations they make in their attempts to discover the world around them. I especially enjoy being able to help clear up some of those mysteries for them. However, not every question has an easy answer, and they can sense it when you don't want to give them the whole story. I remember being a child and knowing that somebody was watering something down for me because I'd broached a "grown-up" topic. It used to drive me nuts wondering what about what I'd asked was so taboo that even an adult wouldn't answer me! I always try to look like nothing surprises me (those knee-jerk reactions really catch their attention) but sometimes, kids get the jump on you!

If nothing else, my job makes me very pensive. I muse a lot at home about some of the deeper things that stem from simple situations like a child asking "what is this?" or "why?"

Things like this make me think that child care is a field worth pursuing for me. Of course, I'm never sure, but no other job has ever made me think so much about things that would otherwise never occur to me.

Whoever said that kids would teach me more than I could ever teach them was absolutely right.