Gumball was black and shiny when the sunlight hit her feathers.
You could pick her up, no matter what.
She was as sweet as gum that always stayed sweet.
Whenever you had treats she was always there.
She was a leader with a big heart.
We will miss Gumball because she was unique and she was our Chicken.
We miss you, Gumball!
-WSB’s Fourth Grade Class
The decision to care for living creatures as a community here at WSB has been a fruitful one. Everyday our students play alongside our Hens on the playground. Nearly every week we visit our ladies in Nature Studies to throw corn and dangle mealworm treats. The chickens look forward to interacting with students, and even enjoy when our students pick them up and pet their downy feathers. Much like all things in nature, chickens cannot be a permanent fixture. Just recently we said goodbye to one of the friendliest and sweetest chickens I have ever met, our shiny black hen, Gumball.
For some, this may have seemed like the perfect opportunity to harness the moment and launch into guided group discussion, but I opted for a more organic approach to discussing death. By happenstance, her transition began on Nature Studies class day for grades 2-5, so I had the honor of bringing my classes by, one by one, to say their individual goodbyes to our dear friend. After we all had a chance to give her one last pet, students naturally used the rest of class time to process their thoughts and feelings with their classmates as we walked together through the woods. It was incredibly touching to see friends comfort friends as tears were shed, and to hear profound conversations bubbling up unassisted from young minds grappling with the absolute truth we must all eventually face. Stories of Gumball’s sterling qualities were woven into life experiences of losing pets and family members. With unwavering trust in their own innate ability to deal with loss, and left to their own devices, our students dealt with Gumball’s passing with grace, depth, and purpose.