All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten (2024)

When an angry mom defends her first child, folks listen Up!

Back when I was still not past five, I started Grade One. I remember so vividly the first day...

Grade One was gonna be tough, and the first Day of it was so inauspicious - a bleak day in November.

NOVEMBER, you say?

Correct.

You see, I had started Kindergarten in September, but my mom had insisted to Dad that I was too smart for mere extended playtime.

Of course, she was right in a way - because I had a January birth date - but ONLY under that technicality.

But she got her way with him.

And then, the school principal said OK, after they locked horns over it.

The facts were obvious, though. For you see -

I COULDN’T READ YET (whoops)!

But Rule Number One for negotiators is, NEVER argue with a furious woman. NEGOTIATE with her...

And of course, Rule Two is, if she’s still enraged, give in to her... with CONDITIONS.

My condition was, of course, (if I chose to accept it?) if he can’t read after 2 months -

He’s OUTTA THERE.

My mom accepted the condition in Proxy.

The principal gave me mid-nineteen-fifties intelligence tests, which somehow I aced (musta been a good day).

So, with a Damoclean Sword poised over my head, on a cold and dreary November day, I walked the dreary quarter mile to school, with my commiserating best pal at the time, Stephen Smith. My arrival in the classroom was no less ominous!

From the blackboard, there stared down at all of us twerpy, spruced-up kids - we were really full of snakes ‘n snails... or sugar ‘n spice - a dazzling array of colourful posters depicting smiling cartoon characters.

Some had dazzling white teeth. Some had carefully manicured fingernails. But all those posters were spittIng images of PERFECT PARAGONS OF VIRTUE.

Hard for me to emulate, even at that age! Yikes.

Most of us had not QUITE yet learned these things... and I was ONE of ‘em.

But, first off, learning to read was even HARDER.

We were each given a Think & Do Book, and - wonder of wonders - our first Dick & Jane Reader. We started with Dick & Jane.

First book. See that word? That’s S-E-E. Now close your books. Spell SEE for me - who can do it? Yes, Johnny?

In turn, the kids who spelled correctly got to join a Conga Line that sang a little Victory Ditty, tauntingly circling the other ones still left seated, poor dunces.

Like me.

I think I was the LAST one in that snobbish group of 5-going-on-6 year-olds to learn to spell. I was always such a late bloomer.

***
But did you know Dick & Jane books are also FULL of civics lessons?

Their hygiene, manners and conduct were IRREPROACHABLE. Impossibly so.

For this was the brightly-coloured laboratory where we little Baby Boomers learned our citizenship ABC’s.

So old Robert is right. In those first years we learned EVERYTHING WE NEEDED TO KNOW IN LIFE.

Well, almost...

Back in those innocent days of the fifties we didn’t yet have bright little posters of Birds & Bees.

So I could at least keep THAT hurdle for later on...

Thank Heaven.

And thanks to Mr Fulghum, for talking MUCH more sensibly about those first school years than I have done!

Listening to "All I Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten", written and narrated by Robert Fulghum, has given me joy and pleasure in childhood flashbacks.
I have never attended kindergarten. So, I probably thought I would gain something after listening to this Audible original. But I've mistaken. Overall it is not bad; however, the narrator was reading so slowly, so it needed to spread up to 1.35. Otherwise, monotonic voice.
Only three 💫.

I am not sure this book is important to me. But I will tell you this - one of the most delightful things I had read in a long time, and a thing I have tried to memorize, is Fulghum's wonderful list:

"Share everything.
Play fair.
Don't hit people.
Put things back where you found them.
Clean up your own mess.
Don't take things that aren't yours.
Say you're sorry when you hurt somebody.
Wash your hands before you eat.
Flush.
Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you.
Live a balanced life - learn some and think some
and draw and paint and sing and dance and play
and work every day some.
Take a nap every afternoon.
When you go out into the world, watch out for traffic,
hold hands, and stick together.
Be aware of wonder.
Remember the little seed in the styrofoam cup:
The roots go down and the plant goes up and nobody
really knows how or why, but we are all like that.
Goldfish and hamsters and white mice and even
the little seed in the Styrofoam cup - they all die.
So do we.
And then remember the Dick-and-Jane books
and the first word you learned - the biggest
word of all - LOOK…"

When I read this book years ago, my first thought was that it would make an excellent Christmas gift for anyone who I couldn't figure out what else to get. The simple philosophy of living that it promotes and the author's easy going style of prose would elicit a smile from a stone. I can't quite say that it changed my life, but I was certainly charmed by this book. It also taught me a lesson in the money making potential of publishing because I happened to work for Ballantine at the time and was constantly issuing purchase orders for reprints of huge quantities of this little paperback. I recall that it only cost about a quarter per book to produce and we were charging $6 or $7 for it, quite a nice profit for the little goldmine that could. The author visited our office one day and acted exactly the way you would have expected him to, like the wise, charming grandpa you never actually had.

Wisdom of the Ages

I thought that this book would be dorky; It was anything but. Also, It is not just about things you learned in kindergarten, it also has anecdotes that are so wonderfully charming that I will read them again and again. In fact, I want to read every book he wrote. It does begin with things that we were taught in kindergarten, and it is a pretty short list since 5-year old don’t have long attention spans:

1. Share everything
2. Play fair
3. Don’t hit people
4. Put things back where you found them
5. Clean up your own mess
6. Don’t take things that are not yours
7. Say you are sorry when you hurt somebody
8. Wash your hands before you teat
9. Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you
10. and a few more minor things

I don’t recall learning anything in kindergarten. I only recall two things about my experience, which I will add a little later. Maybe I was just a slow learner, because I remember giving a boy a bloody nose in the second grade. I got into trouble for it, but in the 8th grade when some boys told Billy Newhouse to go kiss me, when he reached me, I grabbed his left arm and pulled down on it, and he landed on his back on the floor. I never figured out why I thought to do that, nor did I understand why it worked. I also got into trouble in the second grader for throwing my arms around the neck of a real cute boy and kissing hm. And then there was the cheating. It isn’t on Fulgrum’s list, well, yes, it was. It is the one that says, Play fair. I learned this in the second grade when I was given back a spelling test, and when the teacher told us how the words were spelled, I wanted to change my mistake, so I broke the tip off a pencil so the teacher couldn’t see what I was doing, and used it to correct my mistake. I aw the teacher coming and placed my hand over the pencil tip. She raised my hand and sent me to an upper grade as punishment. I never understood why it was punishment since I enjoyed being in the upper class and watching a student put up a difficult math problem on the chalk board. I was fascinated.
Here is all I remember learning in kindergarten:
1. I was given graham crackers with milk, which was never as good as how my mother made them when she used chocolate icing to hold the two crackers together. Actually, it wasn’t to hold them together, it was to make them taste great. I will pick a soggy graham cracker filled with chocolate frosting over a chocolate cake any day. As for the soggy comment, well, that is when a two-day old cracker really tastes great. Maybe I should have said, soft, not soggy.

2. The other thing I remember about kindergarten was that I was given a blue and white checked quilt to sleep on while there. My grandmother had made it. I only remember because I have always seen an image of myself lying on it in class, just trying to sleep. And now I have an image of my little brother’s Charlie Brown blanket that my mom kept even after hd grown. Why didn’t she save my blue and white checkered quilt? Maybe it was because she got soggy in her middle age, that is, she became sentimental.

Essentially the GREATEST book I've ever read. I loved the humor, but it also expressed hidden truths that integrate themselves into our day to day lives in a quirky sort of way. I thoroughly enjoyed the insight that you received through out the entirety of the book. Made me think about things...lots of things. Mr. Fulghum reminds me a lot of, well, ME.
I thought it was stunning.

So, I don't understand why this is a New York Times best-seller? To each his own, then. But to me, this book felt like a venue for the author to explain away his own mulling. The title is "All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten";
(a) and it sounds like an excuse to be a bit too childish and simplistic
(b) but hardly any of the book is about things he really learned in Kindergarten.

I don't know. I'm just really confused, annoyed, and disappointed.

The only people who learned all they needed to know in kindergarten are the people who died when they were six. This stupid book is as facile as its title.

1990 Jul 30

Fulghum is chock full of advice on how to be a decent person and enjoy your life.

***

2020 June 6

This was an excellent choice for me right now. I needed some positivity. And very short essays ate so doable, even when I have the attention span of a litter of 10 week old puppies. There have been many distracting events of late. Sometimes real life doesn't feel so real when you are living through multiple history-making events simultaneously.
I am, and want to remain, grateful to the Fulghum of thirty years ago, and the many voices on Twitter, at work, and on the steps of my local courthouse, all telling me not just what I know, that I need to do better, but what is more important to me at the moment: how to do better.
I know that Black Lives Matter, that policing in the United States is institutionalized racism, that the criminal justice system in the US is institutionalized racism, that our two-party political system is institutionalized racism, that in fact every system established in the US since the first colonizers arrived is just more institutionalized racism: from the privately-owned hospitals where more proportionally more Black women and infants die, through to the end, when cancer or COVID-19 disproportionately kills more, and younger, Black people.
It's racism all the way down.
I know it, I have almost always known it, but other than educating myself, supporting efforts to increase diversity in books and publishing, and voting always for the lesser of two evils, I haven't ever managed to do much else.
I must do better, and more, always.
I want to live in a country which is good, and just, and kind. So I had better get to work: there is so damn much to get done.

I find it funny that so many people who reviewed this book made comments about the title. Why on earth does the title really matter? I know I have read hundreds of books with odd titles, but I did not base my review on it.

This book was easy to read - I read it in one rainy afternoon. I did not pick this book up to find the answers of life - I read it because it seemed light and fun - which it was.

I feel the book is very cool - hundreds of times I have thought random, misc. thoughts and told myself, I should write that down, but of course never do.

Fun, coffee table type book that I will keep around and read again someday!

The first time I read this book, I found it annoying: I called it trite. It seemed too simple. But on continuing to think about it and rereading parts of it, I decided it deserved better than two stars. Maybe the truest lessons in life are learned early on and we just forget them or run over them in our desires for success or to fit in or out of our many fears.

I guess the current political/social climate has made me take these lessons less for granted. They are ideals for which we need to continue to reach, attempt to embody. Simple maybe but not easy to live out.

As suggested by the title, the lessons children can or should be getting in kindergarten make a great focus for adult living. Imagine how precepts like playing fair and not taking things that don't belong to you could resonate beyond childhood into sphere of politics and moral behavior. The rule of "cleaning up your own mess" or "putting things back where you found them" make a good foundation for clean ecological living. My favorite is "When you go out, watch out for traffic, hold hands, and stick together".

I've found reading adult non-fiction books to be a tedious read because it involves many facts. I finally gave up on one that I've had for almost a month because telling me every detail history of her relatives just got too much and it looked like she wasn't going to let up! But this book had nothing tedious about it. It had me chuckling through the entire book. It was sooooo easy to turn from one page to the next and time just flew by. I would have been disappointed that it ended but Mr. Fulghum ended it with reference to Mother Theresa so he left you inspired.

Catchy title, huh? This author's credo impressed Washington's Senator Dan Evans (he was in the audience when Mr. Fulghum, a minister, shared it in a primary school celebration) and eventually was read into the Congressional Record. The credo caught on and before long one would find it in 'Dear Abby', Reader's Digest, read by Paul Harvey and Larry King, and posters of it all over schools nationwide. This enthusiasm, I would venture to guess, launched this book. But he didn't go on about kindergarten stuff but instead wrote about collected favorite observations of his vision of the wonder of everyday life; uncommon thoughts on common things. Small observations with big meaning.

Seriously a fun read!! Zany thoughts that make you go hmmm. Few of my favorites were: one about the raccoons, the story of Menon and the elderly Sikh, one he called "The Mystery of Twenty-Fifth Avenue, Northeast", Hong Duc's trick or treating at Christmas, and of course the one about Mother Theresa.

I'm giving it a 5 for ease of read, fun content, creativity, and big meanings.

Now here is the credo:

Most of what I really need to know about how to live and how to be I learned in kindergarten. Wisdom was not at the top of the graduate school mountain, but there is the sandpile at Sunday school. These are the things I learned:

Share everything.
Play fair.
Don't hit people.
Put things back where you found them.
Clean up your own mess.
Don't take things that aren't yours.
Say you're sorry when you hurt somebody.
Wash your hands before you eat.
Flush.
Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you.
Live a balanced life--learn some and think some and draw and paint and sing and dance and play and work every day some.
Take a nap every afternoon.
When you go out into the world, watch out for traffic, hold hands and stick together.
Be aware of wonder.

**Find this review and more at Jinky is reading

I read this way back in high, or maybe middle-school and remember enjoying it if not much else. I should give this a re-read and see what adult me has to say about it.

“These are the things I learned (in Kindergarten):

1. Share everything.
2. Play fair.
3. Don't hit people.
4. Put thngs back where you found them.
5. CLEAN UP YOUR OWN MESS.
6. Don't take things that aren't yours.
7. Say you're SORRY when you HURT somebody.
8. Wash your hands before you eat.
9. Flush.
10. Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you.
11. Live a balanced life - learn some and drink some and draw some and paint some and sing and dance and play and work everyday some.
12. Take a nap every afternoon.
13. When you go out into the world, watch out for traffic, hold hands, and stick together.
14. Be aware of wonder. Remember the little seed in the Stryrofoam cup: The roots go down and the plant goes up and nobody really knows how or why, but we are all like that.
15. Goldfish and hamster and white mice and even the little seed in the Styrofoam cup - they all die. So do we.
16. And then remember the Dick-and-Jane books and the first word you learned - the biggest word of all - LOOK

Tuhle knížku jsem četl ve cca dvaceti a bylo to jako zjevení. Četli ji i moji nejbližší přátelé a všichni jsme z ní byli nadšení. Mladický optimismus a dychtivost. Svět nebyl jednoduché místo k životu, ale byl krásný.

Po dalších dvaceti letech už se na spoustu věcí dívám jinak, ale dodnes (a asi i do konce života) si budu pamatovat dvě věci:

* Historku o indiánovi, co tancoval se židlí: A indián řekl: "Tak na co čekáte? Budeme tancovat."
* A pak, asi nejsilnější knižní moto vůbec: A věřím, že láska je silnější než smrt.

One thing I didn't learn in Kindergarten is that you can't tell a book by its cover.

Actually I never learned anything in Kindergarten, because I never attended one. Back in the dark ages when I was 5, it was the rare child in my neck of the woods who did. Therefore, when this book came out and caused a minor stir in the late 80s, I actually snatched it up. I used to read self-improvement books, and was foolishly taking the title at its word and looking for some little life lessons illustrated by episodes lived in an environment that I never entered.

I'm not one to reject life tips, no matter how humble, no matter how schmaltzy. My parents' bookcase contained a thin Readers Digest volume entitled "Getting the Most in Life," and I confess without embarrassment that I have reread it a half dozen times over the decades for life lessons and life tips. I always come away inspired.

Not so much with "All I Really Need to Know, Etc." First of all, I was put off because this Kindergarten wisdom business was encapsulated in a set of fourteen rules, encapsulated in less than a page, on the back cover, including "flush" and "Warm cookies and milk are good for you." Clever, apt, cute. But not what I was looking for. My bad. Too great expectations.

Putting that aside, taking into account that the subtitle of the book was "Uncommon Thoughts on Common Thinggs," I read Fulghum's little book from cover to cover almost 25 years ago. This was not hard because the volume of 196 pages consisted of about forty totally blank pages plus many others with extraordinarily generous margins to expand the thin contents of the covers to respectable book size.

I didn't hate the book then but I didn't much like it, I certainly didn't love it. I didn't find most the thoughts all that uncommon, just pleasant and self-consciously folksy. Passably written for the most part, but sometimes cringe-worthy, often over-cutesy. The anecdotes didn't make me chuckle and they didn't make me cry (something which always happens when I read something artfully crafted). I can't say that I found in them any profound thoughts or any life-changing guidance. Reading the book was sort of like listening to Andy Griffith, maybe when he was playing Sheriff Taylor, maybe when he was Matlack, but maybe when he was cynical Lonesome Roads. But I think Andy's thoughts were usually more uncommon.

I reread AIRNTKILIC in the last month, to give Fulghum the benefit of the doubt. I didn't change my mind. It's a semi-good read if you just want to pass some time, smile a little and go away no better than you were.

"Anything worth doing is worth doing well. Anything not worth doing is worth not doing well."

A big ehh, it could be that I'm young and didn't understand a lot of the anecdotes

This novel was the first my boyfriend ever gave to me. We had been dating for 2 weeks when his family invited me down to celebrate Christmas with them. As a Jew, I had not celebrated Christmas before, and I was nervous about that cultural difference, as well as what to get everyone, these strangers I had not yet met, and what they would think of me, this vegetarian, anemic, sailor-mouthed girl so unlike their son whose main aspiration in life was to teach kindergarten (whereas he was studying to be an engineer at the time, and thus, I suppose, his future was considered more secure and profitable). I felt incredibly self-conscious that week. I wore my best clothing. I blushed with shame when I realized his mother cooked a different casserole for me because I couldn't eat the sausage in it. I went to church with them and listened to an entire congregation sing songs I did not know, and light handheld candles in the silent night. I had bought gag gifts, much like my family does for Hannukah, because I genuinely believed that was what one did for Christmas, too. Imagine my mortification when my boyfriend places two beautiful dendrobium orchids in my hands, a book, a card, and a shoebox full of mementos and pictures, and all I had for him was a mixtape of cheesy 80s songs and a Viking hat I had purchased from a toy store? (To be fair, he had long blonde hair and a beard at the time, and was constantly being mistaken for Jesus and Thor, so I thought the gift was at least apt). I remember holding my breath, touched by the kindness and hospitality of his family and by my own misunderstanding. I couldn't wait to slink back into my bedroom in despair. As soon as it was socially permissible, I made some sort of excuse and hightailed it out of there. I opened the book, which I had been too embarrassed to read in front of everyone, and read the inscription he had mentioned. On the front page, he thanked me for being brave enough to meet his family on short notice, and then he put the words I will never forget. "I know you will be an amazing teacher." It does sound terribly Hallmark channel, I know, but at the time, I was a young college student and it seemed everyone, friends, professors, even members of my own family were utterly against it and called it a "waste" of my potential. He signed it with love, and that, also, was earth-shaking - the first time a boy loved me back. I remember holding the book pressed to my heart, and then flipping past the first page to the meat of it. I read the book Christmas night, unable to sleep. I understood the shoebox he gave me was his version of a Gummy Lump, as described in the book. There are lovely tidbits, too, such as how teachers are like time-capsules with the way they come up with crafts, themed bulletin boards, and activities for each holiday. When I got my first teaching job after graduation, I read the book again for courage and inspiration. There have been other Christmases, and other Gummy Lumps, and other Fulghum's on our shelf (I believe my boyfriend is currently reading "Uh-Oh"), but this remains the most beloved. It is the book that made me realize that some people - perfectly respectable, successful people - believed in and appreciated teachers. It is the book that helped me believe in myself.

This is a veiled swipe at anyone who has bothered to actually continue learning since age five. It’s another brick in the wall of pop culture that makes people feel good about the fact that they are stupid motherf*ckers who have never worked hard to develop their minds. What they are saying is, “It’s OK to be quasi-literate; everyone else is just like you.” Everyone except the adults sitting around the dinner table of life. I’ll admit that I’m sort of a dumb sh*t but it’s not from lack of trying.

I’d rather read a book called Everything I know I learned During a 3 Week Opium Bender with a Lady-Boy in a Bangkok Brothel but what I’d really rather read is a book by an author who doesn’t have the prose style of Ned Flanders. He has a list of things he learned while he was peeing his pants every day in kindergarten. Some of them are so stupid that even Ned would probably take a swing at him for saying. #9 on his list is “Flush.” I would rather hang out with someone who has never flushed a day in her life than with anyone who found this book worth reading (I think I read bits of it years ago but I was looking at the reviews here today while researching something else).

Yet another in a long list of books people latch on to with the hope of answering all of their questions about life, books like Eat, Pray Love, Five People The You Meet in Heaven, anything by Anthony Robbins, The Bible, The Koran, etc.

Tahle knížka se mi měla dostat do ruky před těmi dvaceti lety, kdy tady poprvé vyšla. Vzpomínám, že mě ty knížky tenkrát fascinovaly - nejvíc Už hořela, když jsem si do ní lehal. Ty názvy podněcovaly moji fantazii, ale nikdy jsem je neotevřela, četla jsem kromě pubertální literatury výhradně věci z rodičovské knihovny.

Určitě ale nelituju, bylo to příjemné čtení a.moc milý dárek a tuším, že to nebyl poslední můj Fulghum, i když plnokrevným fanouškem se asi nestanu. Druhá půlka bavila víc. Slušné 3,5 * a díky dobré knižní vile Puffin :)

Funny and witty. I like the short anecdotes that support those learnings in kindergarten. I still remember one: "When crossing the street, hold each other hands" This is very true especially in the crazy streets of Manila.

A lovely feel-good quick-read essay book that inspires you and often makes you laugh and smile while teaching a lot about everyday stuff. The book stirs your soul with Fulghum narrating his day to day experiences in a casual & jovial manner.

7/12/19 on sale for Kindle for $1.99.

I was a bit bored. Maybe I didn;t get it.

Tytułowy esej- świetny. Natomiast im dalej, tym gorzej

Aunque no es la edición que leí hace muchos años siempre es bueno reencontrarse come stas historias, están la mayoría de las que recuerdo y algunas nuevas... Siempre me hacen reír y me hacen llorar

Excelente libro

Read this years ago and recall liking it.

the lecture series that accompanies this book can be called: how I will display my self actualization to judge your lawn care habits.
I don't remember much about this book except the over all sense that the author was pretty pleased with himself. I remember one part where he talked about his carefree acceptance of natures impression on his yard by explaining how silly his neighbor was to rake his leaves and mow the lawn.
I didn't do a ton of gardening at the time (nor do I now) but I remember thinking there might be reasons he rakes his lawn, and now I'm older and I find the small amount of yard work I do to be very theraputic and enlightening in it's little revelations, things I wouldn't feel if I sat in my house with my typewriter watching my yard become slowely burried in whatever Mother Nature drops off. So I guess what I'm saying is screw mother nature, get out the clippers and let me trim that m@#%& f$#$%$ hedge while I still can.
And as a former kindergarten teacher I have to protest by saying there is still a lot of stuff to learn in 1st grade...like how to tie your own damn shoes!