Why don children continue to ask thoughtful questions forever?
Last week, my work at a San Diego elementary school landed me back in kindergarten, the setting where formal education begins for most of us. I observed students of every hue and circumstance organizing into small groups for “show and tell.” Each bright-eyed, seemingly happy child impressed her supportive peers and loving teacher with her own piece of home life. Students shared books, souvenirs, photos, drawings and assorted other memorabilia. Each student taught and everyone learned. Down the hall, third graders prepared for a spelling test. Their teacher ordered them to “stop talking and cover your answers.” “The first word is poinsettia,” she enunciated, and reminded students to protect their answers. The students executed the task in relative isolation. Unlike kindergarten students, third graders did not ask the teacher “why” she chose such words. They trusted that correctly spelling poinsettia would be important. On the playground, fifth graders provided the concluding picture of
