Teaching is a social activity. When kids feel safe, loved their minds open to learning
Last week, I shared with you an alarming message about what's happening to our children. Now, and sprinkled over the next couple of months, I'd like to offer some hope … some local examples of approaches that work.
Last week I visited what used to be called the Cape Cod Conservatory, which merged with the Cape Symphony in 2010. Think about a symphony orchestra, and you'll likely imagine seasoned adults in formal black outfits clutching their instruments. But how do people get to be musicians at this level? Where does it begin? Well, one of the principal places this process begins around here is on Route 132 at the Cape Symphony. I spent a delightful morning hanging out with little kids in the conservatory’s preschool program.
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Before I even start, I want to make it clear that there are classrooms all over the Cape that are, in their own way, humane and effective. I just got lucky, sitting down with a circle of little kids 4 to 5 years old and their three teachers. My guide for the day was Anne Kullas, director of early childhood education.
Eleven kids circled up on the rug and sang, “Good morning … good morning; we're happy you're here.” Then each child was invited to share a greeting for the group.
“I love you,” a little girl piped up … “Four times around the galaxy, 50 times around the moon — slowly.”
Anne instantly replied, “I love you too.”
And here's the first element of successful teaching: The poet Maya Angelou reminds us, “It's not what we say or even what we do that we will be remembered for; it's how we made people feel.” I don't care if you're teaching preschool-age children or seniors; teaching is a social activity. Only when kids feel safe and loved can their hearts and minds be opened to learning. For a happy childhood, joy should be at the center of everything we do in life.
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Laurence Smith taught reading downstairs. Here, there was everything kids needed to be prepared for literacy. But the whole feel of the place was warm and supportive.
Most adults couldn't spend hour after hour, day after day with kids this age without having their nerves fly out of their heads like little skyrockets. It takes special people to know how to get things done — like herding cats — not only accomplishing their mission but doing it with loving patience. Remember, this is the ground floor of education in this country.
At some point, the word got out that I was a photographer and one of the boys piped up immediately.
“I used to have a camera,” he said, “but it fell in the toilet.” At 5 years old, there is no filter … just all these free-floating ids talking to you in a stream of consciousness.
Then I slipped into a tiny room where Maria Spraker was teaching violin. In came little golden-haired Hazel with a tiny one-eighth-sized violin. I asked her how long she'd been playing violin and she solemnly held up five fingers. I asked her how old she was, and she held up four.
There were formalities. She removed her instrument from its case and laid the pieces carefully on the floor. She applied rosin to her bow, stood with her instrument tucked under her arm, and offered a courtly bow.
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Maria alternately accompanied her on the piano or knelt facing her on the floor, showing her how to place her hands and what to do. Always, there was a gentle undercurrent of affection and optimism. There was no fooling around. Sessions are short with kids this young, 15 to 20 minutes tops, and when Hazel's was concluded, she again tucked her tiny violin under her arm, faced her teacher, and offered the bow.
Finally, I visited a dance class for girls ages 9 to 15 taught by Michelle Chwastiak. The pace was fast and no-nonsense, but the class was taught with bright, affectionate persistence. Set to piano music, it was muscle training, rhythm, and technique — all at once. A dancer near me, face serene, balanced on one foot so steadily you’d think her slipper was nailed to the floor.
“Why dance?” I asked. In rapid succession, I heard it was fun … to inspire others … they liked the community … to get good at it … because they loved their instructor and would get to dance with the symphony orchestra for a big crowd. Two-thirds of the class also play musical instruments in the Symphony’s advanced programs.
A school can't be just about the curriculum. This is where kids learn how to be good human beings, kind, thoughtful, and industrious. Parents need to buy into their school's values and methods. Trust and confidence are another key piece of successful education. It’s beautiful when it works this well.
As I left preschool, a tiny girl in an orange blouse flew over and — in a sweet shot to the heart — gave me a fierce hug. It doesn’t get any better than that.
Lawrence Brown is a columnist for the Cape Cod Times. Email him at columnresponse@gmail.com.
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This article originally appeared on Cape Cod Times: Cape Symphony preschool, education programs tie learning to the arts
