mama3girls-phnig

At heart, I am a kindergarten teacher.

I never actually taught in a classroom, but in all the ways that matter, I am one through and through.

And I don’t fuck with my children.

Not upstairs.
Not downstairs.
Not sideways.

Children know when a teacher is teaching them, and they know when a teacher is using them.

A good teacher may challenge a child.
A good teacher may frustrate a child.
A good teacher may even allow struggle.

But a good teacher does not mess with the center of who that child is.

Not upstairs—in the mind, where confusion, fear, and shame can take root.

Not downstairs—in the body, where safety is either protected or violated, where the nervous system learns whether the world is dangerous.

Not sideways—in the social world, where children already pay enough through exclusion, ridicule, comparison, and bullying.

The center matters.

More than curriculum.
More than performance.
More than compliance.
More than whether a child can recite the right answer back to you.

Because learning was never meant to require the destruction of self.

A child should not have to decode whether they are loved.

They should not have to solve emotional riddles just to feel safe.

They should not have to perform attachment to maintain access to care.

A teacher’s job is not to confuse a child into growth.

A teacher’s job is to create enough safety that curiosity can emerge.

Safety first.
Then trust.
Then exploration.
Then learning.

That is how real growth happens.

You can stretch a child without shaming them.

You can challenge a child without destabilizing them.

You can correct a child without wounding their center.

That is sacred responsibility.

Kindergarten teachers understand something the rest of the world often forget:

The deepest lessons are usually simple.

You are safe.
Your voice matters.
Mistakes are survivable.
Love does not need decoding.

If a lesson requires chronic confusion, fear, or emotional starvation to “work,” then maybe the lesson is not wise.

Maybe the pedagogy is broken.

Because the center of a child is holy ground.

Protect the center.

Everything else can be taught.

And last I checked, children were never meant to pay for their education in the most sacred places below.

They may pay sideways, among those who bully and bruise.

But there should always be someone there to help lift them back up.

A teacher.

Maybe the student occasionally needs a minute to consider the lesson. This is true. But it better not be the same lesson already learned and failed…

No one has time for that. Lean into to strengths. Not failures.

That.

Teach to the child.

That too.

Some students are special outliers. Thank God they’re “cute”.