Preschooling in Seattle

Seems to me that if I am going to blog about teaching preschool, then it really ought to be written in a pretty color. I am new to this technology, but old to this profession, I have been teaching for over 20 years now.

I adore teaching, and more than that, I adore being a Waldorf Early Childhood teacher. I don't know if I would teach if I could not teach in a Waldorf school.

I have so many funny stories, so many wonderful moments, and I have taught so many fabulous children. This year my first chickadee has returned to her nest. I have just hired Amie, who was in my class the very first year I taught, at The Seattle Waldorf School. Amie was three. She is now the morning assistant teacher at Tara's Tots and the afternoon teacher. Oddly enough she went to the same college I trained at in England- Emerson College.

Emerson has to be one of the most glorious places on earth. It is nestled into the green, rolling hills of Sussex, about one hour south of London. The college is based on the teachings of Rudolf Steiner. As Steiner had something to say on just about everything, so too the college has an amazing array of topics one can study- from Waldorf Teaching to Biodynamic Farming, to the Arts, Social Development, and Rural Development. My time at Emerson College was profound.

My first year of teaching was exhausting. I had a twenty minute drive to school each day and driving home I would have to take the car out of gear and set the hand brake when I came to a red light because I could not stay awake. Some dear person in the car behind me was always willing to give me a little toot on their horn when the light changed to wake me up.

Once home I would put on the tea kettle and promptly fall asleep again. I burned out more than one tea kettle until I was able to buy an electric tea kettle that could switch itself off.

I was hired to teach and told weeks before the beginning of the school year that I needed to pack up the little kindergarten and move it to a new location. The old house was in a dreadful area of town, on a dreary street, and there was no key for the lock, so I was to climb in through the window, pack everything up and move it to the Islamic School's basement. Somehow I took this all in my stride. When I got to the house I was to pack up I was more than a little anxious, but packed up the kindergarten and went to the Islamic School. I was once again mortified.

I didn't mind being in the Islamic School, what was wrong was the basement. Every wall was a different primary color. (If you know anything about Waldorf schools they are all about not bombarding the senses, but rather about keeping things beautiful and calm.) The rooms had been used for storage and were filthy and needed a lot of work.

My college friend, Brian, rented a paint sprayer and sprayed every inch of the basement white. Then the two other teachers, Mary and Kelly, who were co-teaching in the room next to mine, and I lazured the whole space. (This is a technique of applying paint that gives the look of pink clouds.)

The day school opened, we simply pushed all the paint cans and unfinished business into the one closet, and opened the doors. I had 10 children on my own, including Amie. I was 25 years old.

Days that we wanted to go for a "nature walk" we would bundle up and set out, singing: "A tisket, a tasket, a green and yellow basket- step over the glass- I wrote a letter to my love- don't pick that up- and on the way I dropped it- walk AROUND the man- I dropped it, I dropped it- keep together- and on the way I dropped it- don't pick that up, it's not a balloon, a little boy picked it up and put it in his pocket."

I learned more in that first year than most people learn in five years.