E’s day care is OK. I mean, he’s well taken care of and our pocketbook isn’t being totally ravaged, so I really don’t have much to complain about. However, I just feel like there could be better. So, based on a recommendation, I went on a tour of The Academy* on Monday over lunch.
Whoa.
When I pulled up to what looked like an ultra hip shipping container, I knew I was in trouble. I sat in the car a few minutes to collect myself and also to observe a few of the toddlers in their natural habitat without the influence of a staff member giving me a tour. Of course, all of these observations were being texted to Peter in real time:
“Already I feel this is a hipster school for hipster kids. The building looks like a shipping container for Christ’s sake.”
“ 🙂 “
“All of these kids are white.”
“lol”
“I bet their names are dumb.”
“Have fun. Keep an open mind.”
I seriously don’t know what I’d do without this man.
When I walked in the door, I was greeted and then asked to fill out about a billion sign in sheets and forms. While I sat there trying to remember what day it was, I noticed a chalkboard full of welcomes and anniversaries. “Welcome Knoxley + Family” That’s right. A plus sign instead of the word “and”. Come on, Tara. Keep an open mind. You can do it.
My hair looks like Einstein’s, so obviously I’m smart. I don’t need Hipster Academy.
Soon, my tour guide arrived. I can’t remember her name because I was still mulling the name Knoxley over in my head when she said hello. It wasn’t two seconds after shaking my hand that I got the full on rejection speech. “You’re interested in the toddler program? Oh, you can’t get into that. Not unless you’ve been in the infant program, and it’s booked out until 2016. We have pregnant women on the waitlist.” Oh. Wow. Ok. Should I just turn around and walk out the door now? If Hipster Academy was so hard to get into, why didn’t you just tell me that on the phone instead of scheduling me for a tour? Whatever, lady. I’m here, so just walk me around the place.
Of course I didn’t say any of this, but that’s what I was thinking right after the words, “Uh, what?” came out of my mouth. I think my shock registered with her because she quickly tried to back pedal and then showed me the toddler room.
The toddler room. When we walked in, I felt like I had stepped into the pages of Dwell magazine for kids. Ultra modern furniture, white walls covered in unique and colorful artwork, storage containers in chic geometric shapes.
“Are you familiar with the Reggio method?” Excuse me, what? Perhaps your accent, which I think is German with a touch of pretension, is making it difficult for me to understand the words that are coming out of your mouth. Or not. Apparently, the Reggio method is a style of teaching where the children control the curriculum. So, as she put it, if a child wants to paint all day, we let them paint. Of course they still have some rules, like the kids have to wash their hands after using the bathroom (oh thank god), but other than that the children rule. Sounds like Lord of the Flies with paintbrushes. But do go on.
And we did. Through the glass doors covered in muddy hand prints that looked like they had been placed there by an interior designer to make the space feel more earthy. She must have read the expression on my face because she explained to me that another part of the Reggio method was to use as many natural elements as possible in the learning process. Mud, grass, leaves, balls of sticks that looked like something out of a West Elm catalog. But you won’t see the alphabet on the wall. There’s plenty of time for that when they get older.
Outside, I got the chance to see the pre-k group in action. They all looked like they were having a marvelous time doing what kids do — climbing, sliding, running, beating on stuff with sticks. It was nice to witness because after what I had just experienced inside, I was pretty speechless. My tour guide asked me if I had any questions. Of course, being the asshole that I am, the only question I could think of was, “Is one of the child-led activities to put their shoes on the wrong feet? Because that’s the third kid I’ve seen wearing their shoes backwards.” The answer? As long as they say they’re comfortable, we let them do what they want.
I had seen enough.
E, I hope you’re cool with the public school version of day care. Because as much as I condone playing in the mud, I can’t support you going to the Hipster Academy for Gifted Youths. We’ll save our nature filled free-for-alls for the weekend. During the week, you can play with regular toys and learn the alphabet.
*No, it’s not actually called The Academy, but that’s what I’m going to refer to it as for the sake of this post. No day cares shall be harmed in the making of this blog.
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