The first step of a journey is always the biggest

I began to toss an idea around in my head in late 2022. I thought, how can I still be involved with children's learning when I retire? I really love being in the presence of children. When a child invites you into their world, they are opening themselves for you to see who they really are. Ever have a little person ask you, "Do you want to see my room?", that offer is an honor and shouldn't be taken lightly - they are telling you that they trust you. They trust you to see them. They trust you to not ridicule them. They love you.

I have an interesting classroom. Early on, in my 20+ year career of elementary school, I learned that the room belongs to them - not me. It was my job to orchestrate learning. Teaching the academics is one thing but what about them as little people? 

There are lots of quick lessons out there, single shots, for social development. Some people have even assembled these lessons and deemed them curriculum. What I do, teaches self awareness in the world, communication, building connections with friends and family, and how to become strong enough to over come social pressures. I wouldn't be able to write it all into lesson plans - it's something I do. I am constantly weeding a child's garden so they can grow.

Once I brought in the head of a sunflower and asked them if it was fake or real. It took 3 days of deliberation for them to prove to themselves it was real. Another time, I brought in the bleached skull of a beaver and asked them what animal did it come from? That was a lot of fun. I have had the honor of watching the awe in a child's eye when they see a single pea grow roots - then make more, the excitement when an egg gets its first peck - then presents a fowl, and the astonishment when a caterpillar magically becomes a butterfly. But, never had I experienced what happened May 2023. 

At the end of the school year 2023, we grew vegetables and hatched chickens, ducks, and butterflies. The expected 'controlled-chaos' ensued. Lots of research on each one, books were made, life cycle hats, fictional tales of the chicken were imagined, our hallway showed our work. It was as amazing as always - never gets old. 

Our school has a non-category preschool and I walked a baby duck down the hall to the littlest-littles. I was the one in awe this time. Their excitement ignited communication using words, sign language, and electronic-speaking devices. The teachers were showing misty eyes of pride and love for their students. The littles wanted to hold them - so I let them - the gentleness was just too much. I was excited to show them the rest of what we had; so, little by little, the 2nd graders introduced the littlest-littles to our world and we were invited into theirs. The littles hadn't paid our class any mind all year and now they raced to see us. The two classes were so accepting of each other. The 2nd graders encouraged the littles to sit safely and hold the critters gently - it was beautiful.

So, what if, when I retire, I open my tiny farm to children? A space that promotes inclusive outdoor learning and encourages littles to connect with themselves and others? Wouldn't that be something beautiful? 

tinyfarmbigheart < sounds good to me.