“Mummy, you can talk if you put your hand up but you have to listen”.
That was the earnest advice my five year old shared as I scooted out the door last night. I was enroute to her kindergarten class for an information night with her teacher and her classmates’ parents.
I sat in her colourful classroom, at her little desk, in a teeny tiny chair, not ideal for a fully grown adult (let alone a fully grown adult sporting a 32-week bump), transfixed.
Despite having started school just three days earlier the classroom walls were already decorated with photos and artwork the kids had made. Each of the students had made a start in the little work books they will spend the year filling out.
As I took all of this in, I hung off her teacher’s every word.
As she spoke about everything from readers to the class mascot to friendships to library books to drop offs to assemblies, my heart melted.
Her words were imbued with warmth, humour and passion. She fielded our various questions with patience and in each of her answers her sage wisdom about what school-starters want and need was patently obvious.
And when she explained why she wouldn’t dream of being anything other than a kindergarten teacher – with genuine delight? It was game over.
I realised I was observing that magical breed of teacher, the kind who changes lives. The kind of teacher who sparks imagination and connection. Who understands and appreciates five year olds. The kind of teacher who transfixes the little people in her midst and gives them the best possible start to their schooling lives.