There was a time when our kids wouldn’t stop talking.

There was a time when their wee little mouths spouted thousands of questions, and a time where their stories wound round and round with nary a plot structure to be found.

We knew what made them laugh, smile, sigh and cry.  We knew what they thought about bunnies, dinosaurs, superheroes and cartoon explorers.  We knew them. 

Those times didn’t last long, and as they grew up, they also grew away and increasingly their stories and their thoughts and their worlds happened away from us.

So we were left to fill in the blanks of what wasn’t said.  To nibble on the crumbs of info that were hinted, and figure out who our children were and who they were becoming.

Which made it imperative that we took advantage of those rare, oft-unexpected moments when our children did open up and reveal a bit more of their private spheres and the places they were taking in their lives.  And we got to lean in and hear them once more.

So where can we best hear our children?  But more, what are the situations we can create or we can access where they’re most likely to start talking, and keep talking, about how they feel about themselves, their peers and the world they inhabit?

I used to think the best place for hearing was the car.

Here was where the best conversations emerged.  This captive setting could sometimes combine with boredom, traffic, distance, and reflection to start a flowed exchange where previously undisclosed thoughts could surface.  And for those times where our parenting turned into friend chaperoning, and a gaggle of giggling and gossiping passengers sat behind us almost forgetting we were there, we could eavesdrop into stories of classes, classmates, teachers, friends, and fads.

I thought nothing could beat car chat revelations.

But I have to admit, there’s a new rival rising to the top of the “Place Most Likely to Hear Something Pretty Cool” category.

And it happens at school.

These connections go by different names - gallery walks, capstones, demonstrations of learning, showcases of learning…

At AAS, in our Elementary School, they’re called Celebrations of Learning, and they’re times where our children invite their families onto campus to hear more about what they’re learning, how they’re learning and what they think about their learning.  This year the ES has sponsored a poetry cafe, math games, an artifact museum, a Winter Wonderland, writing celebrations, and specialty gatherings.

In the Secondary School, we’ve sponsored poetry slams, writing showcases, an Arts and Design Night and an IB Art Exhibition.

And just a couple weeks ago, there was the TOK Exhibition, a culminating experience for our High School students where they choose three objects and discuss the role these play as conduits of knowledge, while also connecting these objects to their own lives.  Visitors to this afternoon showcase heard students present their impressions.  Across the Rila Theatre, our Grade 11 students held stage in front of their displays, talking for over an hour about their learning.  Although the objects were on display, what was truly a gift was what we learned about students.  A display about the Cyrillic alphabet led to a conversation about their first childhood book read with parents, a display about weight belts led to a conversation about how fitness and nutrition had evolved in their life over time, and a display about a T-shirt led to stories of Mongolian clans, family meals, rare reunions and how strangers step in to take care of each other as they age.

And these were just some of the stories I heard.  For the dozens of parents who engaged with the scores of exhibitions, so many more stories and proud moments were memorialized.  

So whether you’re a parent who has a relationship with their children built on talking about every facet of their lives, or you’re a parent who is more often than not met with grunted replies and hours of bedroom hibernation, I hope you continue to look at the school calendar for events where children are able to use their classroom learning as windows into their ways of seeing the world.

But even more important than what you’ll see.

It’s what you’ll hear.

You’ll hear our children talking.