Star-Journbal Editor
The kindergartners showed up for their very first day of school wearing backpacks, which on their tiny frames made them look like astronauts on the surface of the moon.
It seemed appropriate attire for a voyage of such cosmic importance, as one by one, they separated from the gravitational pull of their mothers, and for a half day at least, expanded the reaches of their known universe — at elementary school.
More than two million American kindergartners will be launched into grade school orbit this year. Tracy Boldt at Hillsboro Elementary School will guide 16 of them on the journey.
An expert on the initial separation phase, Boldt was calm and happy on the first day of school last week, as for the 15th time in her career she helped weeping mothers let go and frightened children turn loose at the threshold of her kindergarten classroom door.
Welcome! Who have we got here? Oh! Well, you're in the right place! Come in and we'll see if we can find your place at the table. That's yours right here.
If you want to hang your backpack on your chair, we're going to keep them right there for now. Put your nametag on so we can remember your name, because sometimes I forget.
You can get out your fat crayons and you can start working. Let's use your fat crayons now. We're going to save your skinny ones until after Christmas.
In an interview conducted in her classroom a few days before the school year began, Boldt invited the reporter to join her at a little student's table, pointing to a little chair for him to sit upon.
"Welcome to my world," she said, smiling. "I'm so lucky! These kids are so excited when they come in that door. And the parents are usually looking through those windows, crying.
"Most of the time, the kids are like, 'Bye!' you know. They don't think much about it. But the parents are like, 'Oh! I'm leaving them!'
"Even if they've already been to preschool, it's still a very emotional, exciting moment to step through those doors."
At first glance, it appears little has changed in the 50 years or so since you were in a kindergarten classroom: A cloak room hides behind a half wall; a black clock with red second hand mounted, somehow, on cinderblock; and above the clock the alphabet in capital and small case, with helpful up and down arrows to help you write them right.
The only thing missing from your old room here is the likeness of George Washington with wooden teeth (allegedly) behind his tight-lipped scowl.
On further observation, you become aware of other things: A computer in the corner with stuffed animals sitting on the monitor, more powerful than the computer that first sent man to the moon; and the teacher's own laptop, which is even more powerful, linked wirelessly to the Internet and a new digital projector on the ceiling.
Boldt's kindergartners will snack on graham crackers and milk, and travel in cyberspace.
"This is a video generation," Boldt said. "The kids are much more comfortable with that kind of stuff than we are."
The new technology will help Boldt prepare students for the world they will enter when they graduate high school, in 2020.
"We're expecting a lot more out of kids than we expected eight or nine years ago," Boldt said. "They're learning things now that we taught first graders 10 years ago."
That means spending time on a kindergarten rug is a thing of the past. There's so much to learn, there's just no time for mid-morning naps.
In addition to more advanced teaching, kindergarten teachers still must make sure students are learning necessary things; such as remembering to shut the door when they need to use the in-class "necessary room."
But even though it may sound like all work and no play, there's still plenty of playtime built into the school day, she said.
"We encourage lots of play because there's still so much they can learn from it," she said.
"It's a busy day, every day from 8:30 until 11:15. There also is an extended day program in the afternoon for those who need extra help."
With all the pressure to teach little Johnny to read in a hurry, Boldt is aware of the pressure that parents may be feeling.
"We try to make parents feel as comfortable as possible, because if this is their first child coming in, it's all new to parents, and there's a whole lot to learn, like 'Did we buy the right school box? What kind of glue?'
"Little things are big to these kindergarten parents."
The Moment lasted 15 minutes or so, from about 8:15 until the bell rang at 8:30.
In just 15 minutes, 16 dramas played out in 16 different heart-rending ways; just as Boldt said.
Amanda Blackburn, pregnant, brought her son, Ethan Ingram, her only child. She helped him locate his seat, unable to stop the floodtide of tears.
"I'm an emotional wreck," Blackburn said.
Moments after she was gone, her son Ethan was laughing with the boy sitting next to him as they colored with fat crayons.
When the bell rang, a boy in the next row stopped coloring and put his head down, weeping covertly. Boldt said some quiet and soothing words to him.
From the next little chair, a girl reached her arms across the table toward her new teacher.
"Can I have a hug?"
"Yes, you can have a hug."
As the last visitor left the classroom, Boldt said, "See why I love this job?"
