May 15th

            Working with kids for May Project did not even feel like a choice to me; I feel like I’ve known for years I’d end up with kids because the work environment at a preschool or elementary school fits my personality well and playing with kids feels natural, not like work at all to me.  After my sponsor at U City Childrens’ Center, Tameka, led to the baby room and we peeked in the window to see the little one year olds rolling around and chewing on plastic toys, mentioning as a side note that that room needed the most help, I halfheartedly volunteered for that room without even thinking, assuming she’d say, “that’s sweet of you to offer, we’ll keep that in mind. Let’s check out the 3-4 year old room and decide at the end.” She did not say this. She said, “Perfect- let’s introduce you to everyone!”  I failed to consider my lack of experience with any children under the age of three, knowledge about their eating and sleeping habits, and the fact that I had just agreed to spend forty hours in this room in which I’d glanced for maybe three seconds.

            The room into which I nervously walk, called the Milkyway (each room is named something space-themed) after putting on special shoe covers to protect the kids from germs, has “big kid toys” (toys for the two year olds) in the back, high chairs and a mini table by the window, colorfully-padded floors and walls, a walled off napping area with cribs and cots with soothing music always playing, big colorful plastic balls to toss in a designated area, and a bathroom (that doesn’t lock so you have to alert everyone in your room and our neighboring room that you’re using the “potty” as most of the teachers call it).

            My three supervisors and I represent I think the four types of teachers you might immediately expect at a preschool: Me, a chipper, teenage volunteer still learning the ropes but willing to conquer any task, Anne, a twenty-something just starting out work, Caroline, a middle aged mom (basically a self-taught preschool teacher from her experiences as a mother), and Becky, a loopy, loud, and filter-less older woman who can make a one year old stop crying in a matter of seconds with a single facial contortion.  From the time I arrive to the time I leave all three take hour long breaks one by one, so I never see all three of them at once but rather the three of them in three different combinations of two. As a volunteer, I mainly stay in the background, playing with the happy kids or cleaning up while the teachers sort out real conflicts or execute more important projects.  For this reason, they assume I don’t listen when they gossip about the third teacher currently on break. “Caroline never told us she was taking the weekend off.” “Glad Anne’s back from visiting that crazy family of hers.” “Becky is insane.” The kids also have not begun really talking yet, so the kids are fair game for complaints and jokes as well.  It’s hard not to start cracking up at any given moment.