Jared's Day
Today I was blessed to spend a few hours with my favorite fourth grader and a few of his classmates.
At noon we left Randolph Elementary and walked to the university to spend some time in its outstanding art museum. All three fourth grade classes were present and paired up with a walking buddy. Parents and teachers distributed themselves along the line of kids, seeing quickly which kiddos needed more focus.
As we walked along, I was stuck by the gorgeous weather and the beautiful fall colors. As the crowd of 60 plus kids and several adults walked through the neighborhood, we stirred up dogs both outside in yards and inside the house. So in addition to the cheerful chatter of children excited to arrive at the museum, we also heard plenty of barking.
Jared proudly told his classmates that both his mom and dad work at the university. Some kids were impressed and asked questions while others simply rolled their eyes.
We sat on the cement in the shade and enjoyed lunch together. I love listening to lunch conversations of kids, especially when I can kind of fade into the background. I tried to remember a fourth grade field trip of my own. Instead I recalled a rather strict teacher who generally dressed in black and wore pointy shoes.
Next was the museum. Now it's time for quiet. If museums are for quiet, then why are all the spaces built to echo? "Tiptoe up the stairs quiet as mice," our guide instructed. Unfortunately, she mentioned stomping, and I am afraid that was the word that caught the attention.
Art mounted on textured walls begged to be touched as the children waged an inner war on whether to resist the siren call. I read a few labels to the children who wondered what a particular painting was all about. Finally, at last, it was time to descend to the more kid-friendly art lab, which accommodates louder voices and offers a variety of activities.
Toward the end, the patience was waning as kids were again led into quiet zones. The walk back to school began briskly. About halfway there, a group of boys --- yes, I said boys-- started to sing a few songs from the upcoming fourth and fifth grade program. More joined in, and again I found myself blessed to be walking alongside the neighborhood serenaders. The sound of happy, singing children might be the sweetest sound I've ever heard.
