Aprons covered in paint. Laughter echoing through the room. Little ones playing barefoot in the vegetable garden, counting worms. Your grandma’s preschool wasn’t like this. Once you step foot in Walnut Creek’s My spanish village Preschool, you’ll see that they take an innovative approach to teaching young children.
Here, teachers do more than simply distribute worksheets. Imagine them sitting cross-legged, at eye level with a group of giggle-tongued four-year-olds, trying to figure out why shadows appear larger and smaller. In response to the question, “Why do you think that happens?” people may propose fantastic explanations including magical shoes, monster feet, or even moving suns. Inquiry drives each and every class.
Equally out of the ordinary is the playground. In its place, you’ll find a “mud pie cafe,” enormous tires to roll on, and tree stumps to leap on. It was yesterday that I saw a young chef describing to a friend how dragons had breakfast of oat-mud cookies. Creativity, resilience, and teamwork were being cooked up while they played.
Desks are not organized in strict rows. On the contrary, there is a bustling painting station, a reading tent in the sun, a corner brimming with blocks, and a miniature science lab where volcanoes erupt. “I wish my office was this fun,” added one father in jest. Since playtime is perpetually upon us, very few children ever gripe when the bell rings to indicate it.
What’s more interesting is how attentive the instructors are. The child is adamant that cucumbers are hot. The educator offers a magnifying glass and says, “Let’s inspect,” rather than offering correction. Laughter is a powerful tool for learning, and wonder is the key.
And we won’t even begin to discuss their “family days.” For one morning, parents take turns acting as storytellers, beekeepers, or space explorers. On Tuesday, a father used pancakes and blueberries to demonstrate the force of gravity. More people wanted to know, more people laughed, and the floor probably got stickier than normal because of it.
Naturally, security is as tenacious as peanut butter on a roof. The folks at Little Sprout think that kids need to run around a bit, get their knees scraped, and climb a little (under adult supervision, of course) since they learn just as much from adventure.
This school is like a kitchen: it’s always making new recipes, some of which are sticky, some of which are wild, but always memorable. Kids come out of class with a plethora of questions, soiled knees, and a gleam in their eyes from all the new things they’ve learned. Doesn’t it sound like the way learning ought to be?