Romp and Circumstance

There is something very moving about a bird's-eye view of a sea of mortarboards in motion. Given the shape and dimensions of this most unusual type of headwear, a mortarboard viewed from above renders its wearer more or less anonymous, leaving the observer of a graduation ceremony with a timeless, big-picture impression of the importance of education to society at large, rather than just to the individual.

Most of us have at one time or another had such an angle on a graduation; typically, it is achieved at a large proceeding in a university stadium or a high school gym. I got to experience it in a preschool classroom, where all views were of the bird's-eye variety since the graduates were only waist high.

I was surprised by how emotional the simple sight of twenty-plus pint-sized kids in red caps and gowns made me. And that was before the ceremony even started.

The children sang to entertain their adoring friends and relations, and the finale--a long-standing tradition in the school--was a song called, "Love Grows." Its lyrics were sweet and plain:

Love grows, one by one,
Two by two, and four by four.
Love grows 'round like a circle
And comes back knocking at your front door.

There was a verse, too, about taking the hand of a friend, which the tiny choristers naturally did as they sang. Encouraged by their teachers, that is how the kids had referred to each other all year--as "friends"--even if they weren't entirely and equally chummy with every member of the class. "Time to listen, friends," Mrs. C. would say before running down the rules for swimming or passing out the supplies for a project. Theirs was an insulated, egalitarian society built on the premise of sharing and caring, one on which the rest of the world should be modeled.

And here they were, graduating and ready to move on to the harsher reality of elementary school. Yes, it's silly to call kindergarten "harsh," but what I mean is that it's a first step toward the divisions and social segregation that inevitably occur in the school setting. I don't remember having a lot of enemies in the early grades, but I do recall that I didn't call everyone "friend," either.

Preschool has prepared our son and his 23 "friends" developmentally and academically for their entry into "real" school...and I hope it has set the stage for them socially, too. Because it sure would be nice to see them all join hands to sing again 13 years from now.