Beyond the cardiovascular compensation of skipping, most of
kindergarten’s benefits are not notable. Despite the prospects
of its title, this book lacks a definitive list of the assets one obtains from attending
kindergarten. The jacket’s back cover does list some possible tidbits of grade school wisdom remembered by the author. Despite veering from its purported content, the book presents vignettes illustrating fairly simple notions, ones a child might understand. Perhaps Fulghum’s quest to find philosophical significance in the mundane began when he learned the word, “why.” The author describes “who” motivates his
thoughts throughout the book. Fulghum introduces delightful, frustrating and amazing people who entered his life in various ways. Neither chronological nor topically-organized, the book’s cohesion suffers a bit. However, in a few instances, two sequential chapters share the same general topic. This linking of sections reinforces the sentiment expressed. Fulghum’s writing is engaging, although structurally inconsistent. Chapters often begin with fragments, and truncated sentences are sandwiched within paragraphs. Despite somewhat choppy writing, “All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten,” capably shares the author’s wonder in seemingly ordinary events. This storyteller imparts wisdom through tales involving a myriad of subjects, most beyond the realm of a kindergartener. The adult mind can purposefully contemplate nature, altruism, obligation, motivation, cookies stuffed into shoes, and chicken-fried steak. Fulghum’s evasion of yard work creates alternate feelings of rebellion and rejoicing. Going to a cobbler uncovers the possible reincarnation of a lama. Stories regarding the bonds of marriage show that the enemy is human, and love is an incredible motivator. Each tale attempts to motivate thought on some topic with a pronouncement. Subtitled “Uncommon Thoughts on Common Things,” this collection of anecdotes shares the author’s poignant, silly and somewhat refreshing take on life.