That What It's All About, Part Two

The first parent-teacher conferences of the year bring many pleasant surprises. I adore hearing stories about the little things students are taking home with them. One little girl, a parent reported, sings our months of the year and days of the week songs around the house. Another came home one day hunting for all of the thermometers in the house. A little boy who is a real live wire of energy has been observed making "beginning sounds," trotting around showing off things like "it starts with /p/" or "/m/." So exciting and strangely, it feels unexpected. Two little girls were described as wanting to go home and do their homework "right away:" "She always says, ' I've got to do my homework!' "a dad described.

I'm also impressed by the level of parent involvement. Single parents, working moms and dads, talking about learning toys and games siblings play with their kindergartners to help them learn. Having met parents and teachers in the past who are more concerned with their own interests than those of the people around them, I am overwhelmed with admiration at the deep, sincere love, commitment, and delight that the parents at my school demonstrate. We revel in the curiosity, energy, and humor displayed by these little comical people, and are companion members of an audience eagerly awaiting what show our kindergartners will bring us next.

There's this song (Townes Van Zandt, I think,) titled "If I Needed You" that has come to my mind when reflecting upon connections between people, real, superficial, imagined or defined. Driving home to my son, I think about the grin of recognition I see in parents' faces when I describe a face or phrase that their child puts to good use. I think about my son, and how like those moms and dads who come with questions, I am wholly concerned with the science and source of my child's happiness.