To a kindergarten teacher as a little one comes in
Published 12:00 am Sunday, August 6, 2023
By Sam Post
Just before the beginning of each school year, my mother, Rose Post, used to share a letter in her column in back-to-school editions of the the Salisbury Post.
An anonymous school principal in Indiana wrote the letter. His son was starting kindergarten. He wrote the letter to the child’s kindergarten teacher.
My mom worked at the Post for 52 years, and reprinting this letter became an annual event.
Mom picked a set of parents each time and dedicated these sentiments to them. They were generally co-workers at the Post or relatives — people who were currently experiencing that mix of anxiety and excitement that happens when a five-year-old embarks upon the journey known as school.
Mom wrote: “I always knew the real story was about your child, my child, all the little ones who were just beginning, going off to school for the first time, one at a time. And I always wanted to tell the teacher… Then one day I discovered that a principal in Franklin, Ind., whose name I didn’t know, had already told the teacher exactly what I wanted to say, so I let him say it again for us.”
My little grandson, Benjamin, will be starting kindergarten this year. Mom reprinted this letter each year for loving parents like Sarah and Matt, his parents.
Like the child in this principal’s letter, Benji has been the boss of his backyard. He’s also the boss of Pokemon, dinosaurs, deep space and ocean creatures. He’s an only child, so I think it’s going to be great for him to make some friends at school. But that little fella has an appetite for learning like nobody I’ve ever known, so I hope they can keep him interested and engaged.
Alicia and I have three grandchildren. Mom would now have eight great-grandchildren. Benjamin is the first to start school. As for reprinting this letter, my brother David Post, who also has three grandchildren, and I have the next few years covered.
Maybe Benjamin will read this one day. I would not expect him to read it as many times as I have — but if he does, he’ll have the opportunity to connect with some values that were endorsed by his great-grandmother. She would have liked that. And she would have loved him.
And now, in keeping with my mother’s tradition, I share that same letter here, for all parents sending their children off to school for the first time:
“My son starts to school this week.
It’s all going to be strange and new to him for a while, and I wish you would sort of treat him gently.
Up to now he’s been boss of the backyard. I have always been around to repair his wounds, and I’ve always been handy to sooth his feelings.
But now …
Things are going to be different.
This morning he’s going to walk down the front steps, wave his hands and start on his great adventure that probably will include wars and tragedy and sorrow.
To live his life in the world will require faith and love and courage. So, teacher, I wish you would sort of take him by his young hand and teach him the things he will have to know.
Teach him, but gently if you can.
He will have to learn, I know, that all men are not just, that all men are not true.
Teach him that for every scoundrel, there is a hero. For every crooked politician, there is a dedicated leader. Teach him that for every enemy, there is a friend. Let him learn early that the bullies are the easiest people to lick.
Teach him the wonders of books. Give him quiet time to ponder the eternal mystery of birds in the sky, bees in the sun and flowers on a green hill.
Teach him about the world of work. Teach him that it is far more honorable to fail than to cheat.
Teach him to have faith in his own ideas, even if everyone tells him they are wrong.
Try to give my son the strength not to follow the crowd when everyone else is getting on the bandwagon. Teach him to listen to all men, but to filter all he hears on a screen of truth and to take only the truth that comes through.
Teach him to sell his brawn and brains to the highest bidder, but never to put a price tag on his heart and soul.
Teach him to close his ears in a howling mob and to stand and fight if he thinks he’s right.
Teach him gently, but don’t cuddle him, because only the test of fire makes fine steel.
This is a big order, teacher, but see what you can do. He’s such a nice little fellow, my son.”
