Moving Up: Part III

After the screening was successfully put behind us, we had still to look forward to the Moving Up Ceremony at pre-school. Before I had children, the idea of any kind of graduation ceremony outside of high school or college seemed ridiculous. Actually, it still seems a little ridiculous, but I have to stop rolling my eyes completely. Asher spent every school year and every summer at his pre-school for 3 years. He grew up there. I’m not going to go into details about all the milestones and challenges and whatnot. Gabriella got teary reading the last two entries, and friends accused me of being vulnerable. Can’t have too much of that. But I can see now how significant the pre-school experience is for both child and parent. So, bring on pre-school graduation! Where’s the punch?

Before graduation, we were invited to the Pre-school Art Show. Of course, we were absolutely thrilled about attending. I mean, given the choice of sitting on my porch swing reading a good book during the heavenly quiet of Levi’s nap or shlepping over to the pre-school to gush over the doodles of 3 and 4 year olds while they run around chasing each other like wild animals until some kid scratches another kid’s eye out or something equally horrifying and messy, clearly I would choose the pre-school art show.

When it comes to Asher's art, Gabriella is the saver, and I’m the pitcher. I show her the painting that Asher made in school that day, and she looks at me with those proud mommy eyes, and I say, “Yup, I’m throwing it out.” That being said, there are a couple of projects he’s brought home throughout his pre-school career that I have deemed worthy of saving. Most, however, end up in recycling. Oh, quit your tisk tisking. Asher had a delightful time painting that yellow splotch overlapped by a green splotch that he entitled, “Train”, and we had a proud moment during which we praised him for his use of colours and technique. Everyone’s happy. Buh-bye “Train”.

Asher had mentioned the art show frequently in the weeks leading up to it. We were happy that he was excited. As mentioned on numerous occasions, he’s usually the one kid on a lap during most programs at school. We rallied. Camera, video camera, relatively clean clothes-in the words of Jodie Foster in Contact, OK to go! OK to go!


You’ll have to believe me as a cynical and cranky mom, the show was amazing. Every parent who walked into that auditorium a.k.a The Gallery had to scrape their jaws off the ground when they realized what had actually been going on in art class throughout the year.

Each project was an interpretation of the various artists the children studied. The art teacher showed a famous work of art for which the artist was known and walked them through their techniques. Every child then created their own masterpiece in the spirit of the artist du jour. During the lesson on Picasso, the children used pictures from magazines to make their own Picasso-esque piece. Paper was taped underneath tables so that our budding artists could put themselves in Michelangelo’s shoes (or scaffold) when he painted the Sistine Chapel. Creative dot art inspired by Seurat. And the Pollack required each child to stand behind a chair and whip paint at an enormous canvas. The Pollack pieces were displayed with titles. “Little Sweet”, “Six”, “White and Black” were some creative names. Asher’s? Well, while he did, in fact, entitle his Michelangelo piece “Asher’s Train”, his Pollack was called, “Mom”. Kvelling! I wonder if I will have the same reaction when Asher chooses to tattoo MOM on his forearm?

They studied Monet, Mondrian, Cezanne, Matisse and Van Gogh, Robert Motherwell, and the results were spectacular. Alright, let’s tone it down, Mom. The results were wonderful because this art was beyond what any parent imagined their child capable of creating. There may be a parent or two who will protest and swear that they absolutely knew that their sweet child was a gifted artist. Most were pleasantly surprised. Each painting is a keeper.





Graduation followed the next day. The children sat on the bimah of the synagogue (the stage), and Asher performed all of the songs with a big smile on his face and did not once petitioned to join his moms. When he accepted his Certificate of Completion, he gave the pre-school director a huge body hug that evoked a number of AAWWWs from the crowd. And when it was all over, we were invited to join the rest of the pre-school for lunch. Asher was ready to go. We obliged and left on a high-successfully avoiding a melt-down. Very proud, indeed.

Ok, Levi. you’re next!