At the start of the last school year, I signed up to be a lunchtime supervisor for a kindergarten class at my son’s school.
No, it wasn’t for the paycheck. And it certainly wasn’t part of my long-term professional plan.
I signed up because I found it nearly impossible to get insight into my son’s school environment. The communication felt limited. I wanted to understand his world better—and if I couldn’t do that from the outside, I was going to find a way in.
Yes, I am resourceful. 😉
Once my police clearance was approved, I joined the lunchtime team—spending 40 minutes a day with a group of curious, wild, lovable 4- and 5-year-olds. I used to arrive 5 minutes early just to sneak a quick hello to my son (we weren’t allowed to supervise our own child’s class). Then off I went to my allocated classroom.
At first, I questioned my decision. Why was I—someone with over 20 years of corporate and entrepreneurial experience—spending time supervising children, sweeping and wiping down tables, when I could be building my business, attending networking events, or ticking off my professional goals?
And then there were the kids themselves— all full of energy that could either light up a room or completely derail it.
But as the days passed, something shifted. My instincts as a mum and my background as a facilitator kicked in. Instead of just letting the kids zone out in front of a show from the start of lunch (which the school allowed), I decided to limit screen time.
So I introduced something new:
“First, we eat our lunch. Then we play a game together. And only after that can we watch a bit of the show.”
To my surprise, there were very few complaints about not watching the show. And thanks to this small change, screen time shrank to just five to ten minutes. As a mum, that felt like mission accomplished.
But what I didn’t expect was how much I would learn from these children during our time together.
Every single child in that classroom was incredible and touched my heart in an unforgettable way.
Here are just three of the many lessons I learned from my beautiful little kindies:
The “Mischief Maker”
There was a boy in the class who couldn’t sit still for a second. It seemed like he was always instigating trouble, leading others into mischief, and needed “body breaks” to release his energy.
At first, I assumed he was simply being naughty.
Then I noticed something: during activities that stimulated his mind—like a song about planets—he became a different child. He sat still, eyes wide with curiosity, absorbing every word and asking thoughtful questions.
He wasn’t misbehaving because he was difficult. When his mind wasn’t engaged, he entertained himself—sometimes in disruptive ways.
He was bored. He was also thirsty for knowledge!
The Little “Boss”
Then there was a girl who, from day one, came across as bossy. She wanted to lead, had strong opinions, and constantly gave directions to the other kids.
But one day, I let her lead a yoga session and dance activity. She transformed.
She gave instructions with confidence, guided the others with clarity, and commanded the space like a seasoned facilitator.
She wasn’t bossy.
She was a leader in the making.
The “Tantrum Thrower”
Another boy in the class was prone to big, loud tantrums. Nothing seemed to calm him down.
One day, during one of his meltdowns, I knelt down to his level, gently asked him to breathe with me, and then offered him a job:
“Would you like to help me pack away the chairs? You’ll be in charge.”
Instantly, his energy shifted. He smiled, darted off, and began completing his task with pride.
Without being asked, he even started leading other tasks.
He didn’t need to be punished.
He needed to be seen. He needed purpose.
Children can easily be labelled disruptive, bossy, or dramatic.
Or… we can take a moment to listen, observe, and understand. Who knows what brilliance we might find?
These are just three examples that reminded me how, as adults, we often make snap judgments about people—without taking the time to understand what’s really going on underneath.
One of my all-time favourite moments as a lunchtime supervisor was the day I asked the kids where they — or their parents — were from, since Canada is so beautifully diverse.
Without hesitation, they shouted out places all over the world. There was no fear. No hesitation. No shame. They were proud—so proud—of who they were.
In a world where so many adults hide parts of themselves for fear of being judged, these kids reminded me what authenticity looks like. In a world where there is so much hate and divide, there was no superiority or inferiority. Just joy. Just love. Just being.
By the end of the school year, my role no longer felt like Groundhog Day.
It became one of the most meaningful parts of my day—a welcome break from the noise of adulting. A space of laughter, learning, hugs, and joy. Even sweeping the classroom became oddly therapeutic.
And on the last day of school, I found myself emotional. I never imagined I’d feel a lump in my throat leaving those tiny humans behind—those faces that would light up when they saw me, running over to say: “Hello, Miss Pre!”
I went in thinking they were lucky to have me.
But the truth is…
I was the lucky one.
Lessons for Life and Leadership
Those 40 minutes a day reminded me of something I had forgotten:
That some of the most important lessons about leadership, emotional intelligence, and connection does not come from books, boardrooms, or strategy sessions…
They come from observing people (especially little people), with open eyes and an open heart.
Here’s what those beautiful kindies taught me—lessons I’ll carry into every space I live and work in:
- Behaviours are messages.
That child who “acts out” might be bored, anxious, or simply craving connection.
In adults too—behind every tough exterior is often a tender need. Look deeper. - Leadership doesn’t always look polished.
What we call “bossy” in young girls is often early leadership.
Give people permission to lead—and watch them rise. - People want to be seen and valued.
Whether you’re five or fifty, a sense of purpose can change everything.
Instead of asking “What’s wrong with them?” ask, “What do they need?” - Authenticity and Love are our natural state.
Kids don’t hide who they are — they show up fully, unapologetically themselves. What would change if we dropped the armour and showed up with that same love, pride, and freedom? Imagine the impact — on our relationships, our leadership, and the way we experience and influence the world.
Final Thought
The most unexpected roles often bring the richest rewards.
I stepped in hoping to better understand my son’s school environment.
I stepped out with a deeper understanding of people — and of myself.
ThisGirlCan 