KinderForest By Jason Boose

KinderForest
By Mister Jason

Every time we teach a child something, we keep him from inventing it.
- Jean Piaget

As a former librarian, I like order, learning facts, and knowing things. I used to work in tall glass buildings, teaching others the ‘right way.’ As an observer of my own children, I came to understand a basic principle of teaching that has nothing to do with being correct. And after working with young children for some time now, I know that teaching is about standardizing the world and creating efficient ways to measure our knowledge. I love teaching and teachers. But KinderForest is not about teaching. What we do in the woods is inventing. We are experiencing. We are painting the primer for all the colors of the world.

Explaining the ‘right way’ has limited value in early childhood. Safety, hygiene, and basic manners come to mind as areas where teaching is helpful. Unfortunately, much of early childhood is filled with activities that have a right and wrong answer, homogenize a child’s process, and measure their success in ways that limit children before they even begin experimenting. Schools are designed to have an efficient system and create measurable results. What we do in KinderForest isn’t measured, and most of the time, we don’t use the most efficient methods. This is all part of the plan to foster invention in a child’s mind.

We begin each day with attire to meet the whims of the weather. We strive to spend as much time outdoors as possible every KinderForest day, rain or shine or snow. Once we make our way outside, we have morning snack, songs, a story, and then we take a meandering walk through the woods to a play spot where the children can invent. The best days at KinderForest are those where the children feel free to create their day. Sometimes they choose to explore a mud flow next to the bog-log bridge, or see how close they can get to the nesting pairs of mallard ducks along the the riverbank, or discover the perfect stick for making a swooshing sound through the air, and find strength inside themselves as they make the walk back up from the river for lunchtime. At the end of each morning session, we do the mud dance, where I hum off-key jig to knock some of the mud off our boots. Then as we return indoors, we guess what might be for lunch with our noses. There’s not much ‘teaching’ in KinderForest but these children sure learn a lot about the world.

Childhood is a Slow Food Process By Jane Danner

Childhood is a Slow Food Process
By Miss Jane

A wise man on the bus once said, “Enjoy this!” and he gestured towards the crabby toddler on my hip, the diaper bag slung over my shoulder. And there was even a nod towards my bulging pregnant belly. I smiled at him as if he were mad but he continued with the words I shall never forget, “The days are long but the years are short. It is over before you know it!” And then he gave me an encouraging little pat on my arm and was gone.

Those days were indeed long. There were endless sleepless nights with fevers and coughs and night terrors and growing pains and ear aches. Rummaging through the medicine cabinet at 2:00 in the morning looking for something to alleviate the current discomfort, when mostly what they needed was a warm calm presence nearby to reassure. The days were filled with changing diapers and laundry and snacks and days at the beach and evenings at the park and a house full of toys and play and a feeling that time had stopped for me but was rushing past me in the real world. It was a long slow process as the children learned to roll over and sit up and walk and then talk and talk and talk. 

And it all sped up just a little bit when they started school. Suddenly, the picture books were gone and they were reading to themselves. I was helping them learn their letters and numbers and then suddenly, I wasn’t as they speed past me to learning stuff all on their own. I wasn’t taking them to the park anymore or the beach, they were taking me, as designated driver, to swim meets and soccer games and horseback riding and just as suddenly they didn’t need me for that either, just the keys to the car and they were taking themselves. And life was a little bit faster. And then suddenly I was dropping them off to college and showing up to their graduation. And life was suddenly a little bit faster. And now I am at this place, waiting in the middle of the night to hear about the birth of my next grandson, still a mom but at a respectful distance and indeed as it begins again, it was over before I knew it. And suddenly the world has slowed down again. And I am not quite sure when that happened either.

The point? This time at LifeWays is the slowest time of childhood, a truly magical time. A time to be savored. School days are coming fast and furious but for now let the children play. Enjoy! It is over before you know it.

Thoughts on Rest by Belinda Kenwood

Thoughts on Rest
By Miss Belinda

HAPPY NEW YEAR, Dear Families ~

I’d like to start off by sharing some wise words from Margaret Wise Brown, an American writer of children’s books that include classics such as Good Night Moon (published in 1947), Big Red Barn (published in 1956), and the Runaway Bunny (published in 1942), among many others.  *(Personal Note: If you do not yet have these three books at home, I encourage you to either purchase them or borrow them from friends, relatives or the library.  They make for wonderful bedtime stories as they are simple, calming, include lovely illustrations and can be read over and over again.)

 

“In this modern world where activity is stressed almost to the point of mania, quietness as a childhood need is too often overlooked.  Yet a child’s need for quietness is the same today as it has always been ~ it may be even greater ~ for quietness is an essential part of all awareness.  In quiet times and in sleepy times, a child can dwell in thoughts of his (her) own, and in songs and stories of his (her) own.”

After discovering Margaret’s quote, I found that she has articulated beautifully the reason why I love nap/rest time at LifeWays.  It is the one time in our day where both child and caregiver can experience the essential need and beauty of quietness.  After lunch (and after all of our morning indoor and outdoor activities), as we start settling into our beds (cots) and prepare for a story, a hush falls over the room.  As I begin reading or telling the story, the children finish settling their bodies, lying on their backs, heads on pillows, tuning in to the story.  As I continue to read, I observe some of the younger children drifting off to sleep while several of the older children continue listening to the story.  

When the story is finished, I begin quietly singing a lullaby or two as I turn off the lamp light, and the quietness envelops the room.  Some children begin singing quietly to themselves, while others simply gaze out the window through the small spaces the curtain does not cover.  Some lie quietly in the darkness for a while before drifting off to sleep.  And for two precious hours, the children and I experience the peace and tranquility of quietness, a time where we “can dwell in thoughts of our own, and in songs and stories of our own” ~ restorative for body, mind and soul…and in that quiet space, where the body is relaxed and the mind can now wander because it does not have to focus on the task at hand, is where creativity lies.