My expulsion from Kindergarten carries lessons today
When I was 5 years old, I was expelled from Kindergarten. Twice. I don't remember what the first expulsion was for, but the second one remains a family legend to this day. Because truly, not everyone gets kicked out of Kindergarten. Twice.
There's a child's rhyme that has hand gestures. The rhyme goes like this:
Here's the steeple (index fingers up, the rest of the fingers still locked)
Open the door (thumbs out)
And out come the people! (flip locked hands so fingers and palms up)
Here's the steeple
Open the door
And out come the HYPOCRITES!
Did I mention that my mom was paying an enormous amount of money to send me to a private church school? They might have forgiven me. They might have patted me on the head and told me to nevernevernever say that rhyme that way ever again.
But instead, they asked me if I knew what a hypocrite was. The thing is, I did.
My mother's hippie-radical brother had come down from UC Berkeley and taught me the full meaning of the rhyme and the word. So I dutifully and truthfully answered the teacher's question.
"A hypocrite is someone who says one thing and does another," I replied.
And just like that, I was expelled. I think I was probably expelled for life, but my mother managed to wring just enough sympathy out of the teachers and the headmaster to allow me to finish out the year, with the agreement that at the end of said year, I should find another school to attend. Really, that outcome was just fine with me...it was probably the most miserable introduction to education any kid could have. I was glad to let the door to that school hit my butt on the way out. So why am I spilling my dirtiest secrets here on MOMocrats?
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