I watched my granddaughters skip up the walkway to their elementary school and wondered. What will they learn today? How well will they learn today what is important for them to know? How will they handle their learning frustrations? How will each feel about herself as she compares herself to her classmates?

I listened to the parents dropping of their children. There are a few fellow grandparents; our white and gray heads are badges of grandparenthood. I heard a common theme in what they said as their drop-offs headed into school. “Have a good day. Have fun today. See you after school.” Some kids waved back at these words; most did not, as they heard the same words every day.

My wondering derives from a career as an educator with a constant charge to “cause all children to learn” everyday. It is that causation piece that drives my wondering about my grand girls. What purposeful teaching will they experience today and what learning will they be expected to achieve? How will their teachers present today’s lessons? How well will their teachers monitor all their students to see how well they all are learning? And what will these teachers do to assist those children who don’t “get it” right away. Will the teacher persist until all children have met the learning expectation of the lesson? And, how will children feel about themselves as learners at the end of the day? Will they run out the doors at the end of the day to celebrate another day of learning will they escape out the doors to the great reward of “after school”? Sometimes my wondering is a pain!

At the end of their school day, when I see them next, my grand girls know the questions they will be asked. My queries will not be “What did you have for lunch?”or “Did you have fun today?” They and I know what was packed in their lunch boxes and they and I know that school is fun for them because they come from a heritage that extols schooling. Expect fun – have fun. No, they know I will say, “Tell me one thing you learned today.” “Not really a question, Gramps,” they always say. “More like a command!” They also know they are not only expected to tell me the what they learned, but also to explain how it was learned and how well it was learned. They know that sometime in the next several days I will return to what they learned today just to see how well they retained it in their thinking.

These girls are living a tradition. Their mother smiles, or is it a grimace, when they tell her that Gramps “Quizzed us again when he picked us up at school!” She was tortured in the same way, as were her two brothers. And, as are her cousins when they visit Gramps. They all know that “Nothing special” or “I don’t remember” or “I don’t want to talk about school right now” will not satisfy Gramps. They simply know what Gramps always tells them. “At your age, school is a great exploration and adventure. When we talk about your day at school, I ask you to share with this old man your stories of the new things you have seen and done. Now, what about your adventure today.”

This routine was created by design. “You’re torturing us,” the say, but they do it anyway and they do it everyday. The design is this – parenting for strong learning. Too much of family life is compartmentalized. Mom and Dad go off to work. Kids go off the school. Mom comes home and takes care of the home things she does. Dad comes home and takes care of the home things he does. Mom and Dad have their friends. Kids have their friends. And, it is easy for everyone to go to work or go to school and live their life in their compartment. Some find it safer and easier, because it avoids the messiness that other lives bring into their life. Parenting for learning is designed to bridge the compartments. I, as an adult, ask them, as children, to tell me about their school experiences. Sharing their adventure assures them that someone else knows and cares about what they do at school and understands and reinforces the importance of their daily education. I can’t imagine the pain of a child who goes to school everyday for thirteen or more years and never is asked to talk about what was learned on any one day. That would be child abuse and I will not tolerate it. Not on my watch.

So, “Tell me what you learned today. I’m listening.”