The Years Are Short
A Kindergarten teacher looks back.
June 2021
This is my third year of seeing off a graduating class which started off with me in Kindergarten 13 years ago. I had quite a few stop by today as it was their last day in the building before they began their senior initiatives, working on a project of social impact. I am confident that these young men will use this period of time in profound and well thought out ways. This was a class of kids I deeply connected with and very vividly remember. It profoundly touched me that I was a last stop on their way out the door of childhood forever.
A young man, Gus, (pictured) walked into the other kindergarten classroom today as I was chatting with a colleague. While he wasn't in my section all those years ago, I knew him well as a five- and six-year-old. Often, over the years, we would pause in the stairwells amongst a sea of chattering big boys and little boys all crammed together in one space to say a quick hello. Though brief, our exchanges of "Hi, Ms. Kummer… I can't remember your new name... How are things going?" And my usual response of "Don't worry I rarely remember my new name either and please come visit the Kindergarten boys downstairs. We would love to see you!" always lifted my spirits and brought a genuine smile to my face.
His Kindergarten teacher who also ended up being his second grade teacher remains a dear friend of mine who left New York several years ago. I suggested to Gus that we give her, Ms. Hilton, a call to let her know that his last stop out of the building was her classroom where in his words, "It all started here."
As Gus ruminated over whether the classroom sink and its hardware was actually original to his Kindergarten days and would that qualify it as being antique, Alison Hilton picked up the call.
First day of school in 2008.
Last day of school in 2021.
Gus and Ms. Hilton chatted for several minutes. It was a very emotional moment for me to hear these two talk. I couldn't help but smile as I heard Gus' fleeting moment of boyish laughter when he said, "So, I hear you got married..."
Teaching is a really tough profession, there are days when you absolutely 100% want to quit. A lot of teachers do quit because of the emotionally taxing realities of our work. However, these are the moments that sustain you and motivate you to tackle another year. This Browning boy was a lovable, unique character from day one as anyone who taught and loved him surely knows.
Teaching in a K-12 school is a unique experience unto itself as is teaching in a boys school. Seeing the evolution from a five year old boy to an 18 year old young man is a powerful reminder that teachers do shape children's lives and influence their trajectories in profound ways.
The departure of this graduating class has hit me hard. From my two former students who stopped by today to ask if we could "take a selfie together for old time's sake" (although I am pretty sure that wasn't quite as much a thing 13 years ago) to Gus connecting with Ms. Hilton, I admittedly had a difficult time keeping my tears at bay.
As I was walking home through the park, I called Alison back. I giggled with her like we were first-year teachers again stuck in our classrooms at 6 p.m. freaking out about how to put together our literacy curriculum.
I said, "Oh my god, did you see his shoes in the photo I sent?" Alison said, "He always had style."
Katy Varughese is in her 16th year of teaching Kindergarten boys at Browning.
And, that is the truth. As any Upper School teacher can confirm with any student's Kindergarten teacher, the core of that child carries through to adulthood. This young man is going to do well in life because despite the many trips he made to our division head's office as a young boy, he knows who he is—blue shoes and all.
A little fine tuning is always needed but a wonderful spirit, kind heart, and sound character are intrinsically within the best of these young men that Browning sends off.
What is both totally evident and bears repeating over and over is this: the world desperately needs human beings who have the innate and nurtured capacity to show empathy for others. We need young adults with the courage to step up and lead with their compassion and decency.
This graduating class makes me hopeful and motivates me to continue plugging away at teaching but more importantly plugging away at loving these kids and encouraging them to love themselves.
They all leave reading, writing, and doing at least basic mathematics but are they literate in the language of kindness, emotional intelligence, and respectful problem solving?
Most importantly, are they able to look beyond themselves and their own experiences? Can they recognize the unique components of their stories and in turn be reflective of its implications in communities outside their own? Are they able to speak up for others when no one else is speaking up? Can they stand alone to stand up besides others who are all alone? This is what drives me more and more as an educator.
I can't stop thinking about the intentions he had when putting them on this morning. With this kid, there certainly was intention in choosing those blue shoes and I would go so far as to say the intentions extended well beyond style. They were the shoes that would walk him out of a building that he walked into every school day for the last 13 years.
It makes me think of Pete the Cat, a children's book character that all Kindergarten teachers know... in one book Pete the Cat is just walking along, singing his song, "I like my blue shoes, I like my blue shoes." His ending advice to his readers is "just keep walking along and singing your song."
My sincerest hope is that the Browning class of 2021 keeps walking along and singing their song.
