My twins go to preschool at a nursing home. Its taught them about empathy and grief.

• My twins attend a preschool program inside a local nursing home.
• They spend time helping seniors, including residents with dementia.
• I chose empathy and community over traditional kindergarten prep.

Recently, my sons visited the adult daycare wing of the nursing home that shares their preschool building. The children were working on a simple sticker project when one of the residents, a man living with dementia, began to struggle with the steps. He looked frustrated and one of my boys noticed.

He walked over, gently peeled the stickers for him and pointed to where they should go. Later, one of the teachers sent me a message: "What a Kindness Creator."

It struck me that this wasn't something you can measure on a preschool assessment. It wasn't about letters, numbers or early reading benchmarks, like "kindergarten readiness" in the way we usually talk about it.

But it might have been something even more important.

Childcare is expensive

Like many parents, kindergarten readiness was top of mind when my husband and I began searching for a preschool. With academic expectations creeping earlier into childhood, it can feel as though your child is already behind before they even walk into their first day of "real" school. For context, my children have received report cards since they were 18 months old.

And the pressure isn't just emotional, it's financial. Childcare costs have soared, and many districts don't offer free public preschool or 4K programs. Families are often left choosing between expensive preschools, daycare centers with varying academic focus, or private childcare arrangements that limit socialization.

As a mom of twins navigating this stage for the first time, I assumed we would make the most practical or popular decision.

Instead, we prioritized something different. We chose an intergenerational community.

We chose an intergenerational preschool

Our boys attend a nonprofit preschool program called Kindness Creators, which pairs young children with senior citizens in a nursing home setting. A few days a week, the children spend time with residents through shared activities, celebrations and simple companionship.

When my sons walk through the doors, they aren't entering a typical classroom. They are stepping into a space filled with wheelchairs and walkers, quiet hallways and faces that light up when the children arrive.

The program was founded by two former school district teachers and academic learning is certainly part of the structure. My sons are practicing early literacy, counting and routines that will serve them well in kindergarten.

But the moments that have stayed with me most have nothing to do with academics.

The proudest moments are the ones that reveal who my children are becoming in relation to other people.

My kids are learning to have empathy

In this environment, my boys learn how to move through the world with empathy and respect. They learn that their community includes people who are older, slower and grieving and that those people still deserve kindness.

One of the residents they've grown especially fond of is Mr. Bob. One of the teachers told us that he doesn't usually participate in many activities. He often sits quietly on the sidelines. But when one of our sons, MJ, walks into the room, something shifts.

With MJ beside him, Mr. Bob is suddenly engaged: leaning in, paying attention, smiling. MJ guides him through each project, showing him what to do next, offering help without taking over. In those moments, my preschooler becomes something like a teacher, drawing out connections from someone who might otherwise remain apart.

It's hard to overstate what it means to watch your child form a relationship with someone from a completely different generation, not out of obligation, but out of genuine care.

I've had to talk to my kids about grief

The program has also opened conversations I didn't expect to have with preschoolers. From time to time, one of the residents passes away. When this happens, our family dinner often includes conversation about what it means when someone is gone. We talk about how we miss people when they're no longer here, but that they remain with us in our hearts.

That grief, too, is part of belonging to a community.

Modern parenting can shrink a child's world down to achievement: what milestone is next, what skill is being built. I didn't realize how much we were swimming in that mindset until I watched my sons become part of a community that wasn't built around them.

At Kindness Creators, my sons are learning something I didn't anticipate as part of the preschool curriculum: how to belong to a community that includes people of all ages, and how to move within it.

Kindergarten will teach them plenty. They will learn their letters, their numbers, how to sit in rows and raise their hands.

But here, they are practicing something else. Patience. Tenderness. The quiet habit of looking up long enough to notice when someone nearby needs help.

That feels like its own kind of preparation.