As a former day-care administrator I have seen 30 children mobbing a
teacher and clamoring for attention-praise for a project, a kiss for a hurt
or applause for their ability to count all the way to 10. At the other end
of the spectrum, one of my most haunting childhood memories is of
making a Christmas visit with my Girl Scout troop to a nursing home,
eager to 'brighten a day.' Instead I remember walking into a musty room
and helping her to write a letter to her family. The quizzical look she
gave me as she asked 'What shall I write about?' and my own awkward
groping for an answer are a vision I carry with me today.
Day-care children don't have a lack of playtime; they have a lack of one-
to-one attention. And the day-care elderly don't have a lack of time on
their hands; they have a lack of someone to share and laugh with and
glean excitement and energy from. Combined, dual day care, built on
these needs, probably would cost no more and would disturb no one,
and, in fact, it just might be the perfect solution.
Learning that a particular bird is called a sparrow or that a particular tree
is called a pine is very special to children who cannot read and who have
an active curiosity about the unknown elements of their world. Older
adults can read and tell children about this existing world of ours, and
what's more they have the time to share with the children. While the
elderly would not have the special training of the early-childhood
teachers, they would be a supplement to, not a substitute for, staff.
Parents and grandparents, after all, don't need diplomas. Conversely,
some day-care adults might have ambulatory problems that call out to
children who have an intrinsic energy and desire to help. None is
prouder than the child who has helped do something for someone else.