"...a teacher needs to be a good judge of human nature and realize that no two children are the same or learn in the same way, and to respect those differences."If you want to know who the real celebrity of the Catskills is, just ask Bonnie Walker to your parade. Magistrates and movie stars might go unrecognized, but children from four to 14 will soon set up a chorus of "Miss Bonnie! Miss Bonnie!" and come running. For many of local children, this inspired preschool teacher was their first love, after their mothers. Bonnie retired last week after bringing children "into the big world" for 27 years, but the optimism and spunk instilled in the community by the Pink Elephant Preschool marches on.
Bonnie Ellsworth Walker is one of those lucky folks never doubted her true vocation. Even as a child, she knew she wanted to work with young children. Her sister-in-law Peg jokes that her husband, Richie Ellsworth, was Bonnie's first graduating class of one. Bonnie's sister Jeanne confirms that, even though she was the oldest, Bonnie was the one who organized everything once their mother Ev went back to school. Richie, the youngest Ellsworth, was four at the time.
Bonnie's teaching philosophy is based on three basic principles: love, learning
and respect. It's that latter quality which might be the most transformative
for her charges. When Bonnie talks about respect, she isn't just talking
about how the children react to grownups, but how Bonnie treats them.
"Even when they are three and four years old, Bonnie would always ask my girls what they wanted to be," says Jo Hinkley. For most adults, toddlers are a species of their own (and a little sometimes goes a long way). To Bonnie Walker, toddlers are people too. At each PEP graduation, parents and guests receive a booklet with the graduates' biographies — written by themselves. "I was reading a book of Victorian classroom etiquette," Bonnie told the graduation audience Wednesday night. "Of course it said funny things like 'don't pick your teeth at the table.' But it also said that a teacher needs to be a good judge of human nature and realize that no two children are the same or learn in the same way, and to respect those differences."
Watching Bonnie interact with a child might remind you of Diane Sawyer conducting
an interview with Tony Blair: you realize how unusual it is to see an adult
address a child with that much attention and focus, and without any condescension.
Jeanne, who taught teacher education at the graduate level, is most impressed
with that ability. "I have the teaching degrees, but she is a genius
at the intellectual job of communicating ideas and engaging children. I substituted
for Bonnie once. I never looked at my watch so many times in two hours."
Bonnie emphasizes to parents that Pink Elephant is an educational program, not a babysitting service, and she is widely held in awe for running an operation where she is the administrator, curriculum director, classroom teacher, budget director and snack coordinator (not to mention the mother of three and grandmother of three herself). Ginny Scheer, who shares Bonnie's penchant for lists, says Bonnie taught her to add exactly how long each item on her to-do lists will take. In addition to running a preschool, Bonnie has long been a leader in the Christmas Project, volunteers her catering skills at community events and coordinates the costumes for the high school play. She will continue to play a role at Pink Elephant, helping the new director Sam Rose (a PEP graduate himself), with classroom challenges and logistics. "I can get a little kid fix any time I need one," she laughed, "And Jeanne and I will do as much as we always did, only we'll do it more slowly."
Children have infallible instincts when it comes to grownups. "When they were small, Bonnie was the only person my children would let go of my hand and run to — besides their mother," said Dave Riordan. You can test this at any gathering of a local women's group: Bonnie's entrance will be heralded by the thump of pajama feet — here come the PEP alums. Tammy Storey sent her daughter to Pink Elephant even though it meant she had to wait in the car during the entire session because it was impractical to drive back and forth to Andes twice. Cassandra's now headed for middle school and still talks about Bonnie regularly. On a recent nature outing with PEP students and third graders, most of the third graders raised their hands when asked if they had been "PEPpers" themselves. "I wish I could go back there!" sighed one of them.
"People might think Pink Elephant is a gold mine, but no child was
ever turned away because they couldn't pay," said Jeanne. "There
were times I'd ask Bonnie if this was a vocation . . . or a hobby," says
her husband Steve, "Educating the children was the most important thing
to her, and she was right. Even more than educating the children, she also
educated the parents," Steve added.
That sometimes meant telling parents things they didn't want to hear, as in "I don't think your child is ready for kindergarten." That could cause a few rough spots, but the end result was usually more family solidarity. Bonnie was once introduced to a stranger who complimented her earrings, and Bonnie responded, "Oh, they were a gift from one of my mothers," whereupon the woman looked at her like she had three heads. "I had to explain that I have hundreds of mothers, and hundreds of fathers, and hundreds of grandparents and children," said Bonnie, "and I am so grateful for all of them."
Local teachers hold Bonnie in high esteem both for her example and the caliber
of student she sends them. "We all look up to her as a model, for her
stamina and that she still loves what she does after 27 years," said
teacher (and PEP parent) Rinda Mattice. The highest compliment Bonnie says
she ever received from a teacher wasn't even about learning readiness. "I
can always tell when I have Pink Elephant Preschool students in my classroom," this
teacher told Bonnie, "Because they are always kinder to their fellow
students."
One thing's for sure: Life at Pink Elephant may not have always been perfect, but it was was always fair. "I was reminiscing with Bonnie about some of the games you play as a child, like musical chairs," her mother Ev said, "Which, when you think about it, wasn't much fun: someone was always eliminated and didn't have a chair. "Oh, we never take a chair away," said Bonnie. "Everybody always gets a seat."