Gotta Love Kindergarten!

Last week I wrote about the amazing amount of knowledge we all possess (I Really Do Know A Lot!).  It made me think about how we learn and acquire all of that wisdom and I was quickly reminded of this poem by Robert Folghum, written in 1988.  I think it’s a poem worth reviewing, and the lessons in it worth taking to heart once again.

(Robert Fulghum not only wrote this as a poem, but also put it into book form. See his web site at http://www.robertfulghum.com/)

ALL I REALLY NEED TO KNOW I LEARNED IN KINDERGARTEN

By Robert Fulghum (excerpt taken from Chicken Soup for the Soul)

Most of what I really need to know about how to live and what to do and how to be, I learned in kindergarten. Wisdom was not at the top of the graduate mountain, but there in the sandbox at the nursery school.

These are the things I learned:

Share everything.

Play fair.

Don’t hit people.

Put things back where you found them.

Clean up your own mess.

Don’t take things that aren’t yours.

Say you’re sorry when you hurt somebody.

Wash your hands before you eat.

Flush.

Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you.

Live a balanced life – learn some and think some and draw and paint and sing and dance and play and work every day some.

Take a nap every afternoon.

When you go out in the world, watch out for traffic, hold hands and stick together.

Be aware of wonder. Remember the little seed in the Styrofoam cup: the roots go down and the plant goes up and nobody really knows how or why, but we are all like that.

Goldfish and hamsters and white mice and even the little seed in the Styrofoam cup – they all die. So do we.

And then remember the Dick-and-Jane books and the first word you learned – the biggest word of all – LOOK.

I started kindergarten in the fall of 1969 – almost a lifetime ago when the Vietnam War was a hot topic and my parents were afraid of ‘hippies’. Both topics I didn’t understand, but I did understand the excitement of going to school.

The neighbor boy and I would walk the half mile or so to the building and I felt terribly grown up. I remember the kids who didn’t want to share. I remember those who didn’t want to say they were sorry and the children who wouldn’t play fair. I remember bell bottom pants and lying on my mat refusing to nap. I remember cookies and milk and playing and holding hands and circle time and show and tell and the clean up song. I remember hanging my coat up in the long coat closet and I remember the wonder and power I felt as I discovered how to make letters turn into words.

Mr. Folghum hit the nail right on the head. For most of us kindergarten provided us with our first real exposure to academics and hard social lessons and politics and the environment and personal responsibility. And for me, those lessons really ought to be refreshed every once in a while, because as I said last week – just because I know, doesn’t mean I apply.

I Really Do Know A Lot!

It’s really amazing how much I know. I know that there are times when I should keep my mouth shut. I know that other occasions exist when I should speak. I know that it’s never a good idea to assume anything. I often know when I’m about to make a big mistake. I know some things are better left until morning. And I generally know when I should make a left rather than a right. I know a lot. But even more amazing than how much I know is the fact that in spite of all of this grand knowledge, I find myself all too often tossing my intellect aside for some mysterious purpose that escapes me every single time.

A few months back our wine making group embarked on our second year of vinification.  We acquired several totes which were made up of pinot noir, pinot gris, and zinfandel grapes.  After hours of sorting and stemming and crushing and pressing, we had gallon upon gallon of wine.  Some went into large vats, some into food grade garbage can type containers, and some into five gallon glass carboys.  Due to the cold weather, we decided to move the carboys into a warmer environment, which consisted of a room about 300 feet away.  So here’s the deal. A glass carboy stands about 22 inches tall, and filled with wine weighs a good 60 pounds. Mix that with a 61 inch tall female who weighs slightly more than twice the carboy plus condensation plus a couple of glasses of wine plus a long day and the energy already expended to carry one carboy successfully to the new location – and what do you get?  The knowledge that the second carboy should have been carried by someone other than that female. I knew it the second I picked up those five gallons of pinot noir.  But I tossed away that knowledge like a used piece of tissue paper. And instead I carried the carboy the entire 300 feet and then proceeded to drop it onto a concrete floor at the end of my journey where it shattered into hundreds of pieces and wine flowed like water gushing from a broken dam.  All of that knowledge, but none of it put to good use.

I can’t even count the number of times that I have ‘known’ better, and proceeded to proclaim that knowledge after the fact.  It’s like knowing that if you run your finger down the sharp edge of a knife you are going to get cut. But something inside of you, some inexplicable inane power, causes you to discard that data and do it anyway.  Seconds later blood gushes from the opening in your skin and you shake your head and proclaim, “I just knew I was going to do that.”

Several years ago we took our family to Europe. The trip was amazing. Switzerland, Italy, Slovenia, Croatia, Austria, and Germany all made our list of must sees. We rented a car in nearly every country and I became our designated driver. On the middle section of our trip we rented a cute little thing in Slovenia and drove to Croatia where we stayed for three days. On the second day we drove south to Pula to check out the ancient Roman amphitheater. After finding our destination I parked the car, only as I pulled it into the slot I bumped the vehicle behind me. The cars were both fine, but the incident caused my husband and me to share a few choice words.  Angry, I locked the car, grabbed our backpack with our cameras, but did not put the keys in a secure location. And I knew better. We proceeded with our tour and when we finished the keys had disappeared. Thanks to the incredibly gracious people of Croatia and Slovenia a new set of keys were hand delivered to us nearly five hours later.  What in the world had gotten into me? To throw away my knowledge about walking around with a set of car keys in my hand made no sense whatsoever, but I did it anyway! Thank goodness my family loves me, and although they don’t easily forget, they do forgive!!

The whole thing is crazy. It blows my mind the number of things I could accomplish if only I actually used the knowledge I have. And I’m not the only one who is so full of all kinds of smart thoughts but for whatever reason opts not to use them. I’ve heard nearly all of my friends and family members proclaim their infinite wisdom after the fact. We’ve all expressed the same phrases. “I knew better.” “I knew that was going to happen.” “I know I should never have done that.” “I had a feeling.” And so on.

I guess we all know a lot… it’s just that darn application part that gets in the way!