The leap from a cosy, familiar kindergarten to the bustling world of a bigger school is a major milestone in a child’s journey—and in a parent’s heart. Gone are the quiet corners and pint-sized routines; in come new classmates, sprawling campuses, and a faster pace of learning. For many kids, it’s a mix of excitement and overwhelming emotions. And for parents, it’s a delicate dance of support, reassurance, and letting go...just a little. Masala shares practical tips and heartfelt stories from our community, highlighting the challenges, triumphs, and little victories that come with navigating all types of school transitions.
Entrepreneur, Baker, and Homemaker
Transitioning from kindergarten to primary school is a significant milestone for any child. Moving from a playful and nurturing setting to a structured, academic environment often brings a mix of excitement and nervousness. Routines shift, expectations rise, and as parents, we may find ourselves navigating unfamiliar terrain. One of the first challenges I noticed was the return of separation anxiety. Although my daughter had already worked through those emotions during kindergarten, the shift to a brand-new school, with unfamiliar faces and surroundings, brought those feelings bubbling back. Academically, the leap was substantial. Kindergarten was filled with play-based learning, creativity, and movement. In primary school, reading, writing and more rigid routines took centre stage. Longer hours of seated learning and structured lessons in subjects like math and language could become overwhelming.
There’s also a noticeable shift in independence. In kindergarten, kids are pampered and watched closely, but in primary school, they are expected to have more autonomy. They have to manage their belongings, take care of personal needs, and stay on top of homework without constant help. That shift from being nurtured to being responsible was humbling to watch. As a mother, I found that creating a consistent routine at home made a world of difference. Primary school tends to start earlier and demands more effort, so ensuring my child was well-rested, had proper meals, and settled into predictable evenings helped her stay healthy and feel secure. I also learned the power of early conversations. Talking about the new school, making casual visits, and easing into the idea through familiar language gave my daughter the emotional readiness she needed. Reminding her that we’d reunite soon gave her the confidence to walk through those gates each morning with a little less fear. Staying in touch with her teachers became an anchor. Daily updates and honest what my child needed at school and what I could do at home. I began giving her small responsibilities: packing her own bags, helping with dishes, even choosing her own outfits. These simple acts plant seeds of independence and can boost a child’s confidence. One thing I didn’t expect was how much I’d benefit from connecting with other parents. Creating a WhatsApp group with fellow class moms helped me keep track of events, arrange playdates, and share occasional pep talks. Sometimes, that little network became my emotional safety net, too. And finally, the biggest lesson of all: trust your intuition. You know your child best. Society might nudge you in different directions, but deep down, you’ll sense what’s right. Kids are resilient. With support, love, and a little guidance, they adjust beautifully.
Mindset Coach
As a family, we moved from Guam to Bangkok three years ago. My daughter was at the tender age of seven, a time when stability, familiarity, and connection mean everything. It took her some time to adjust and feel at peace with the decision. She missed her friends, her room, and her school. When we talked about the change, one thing I made sure to do was allow her to fully feel her emotions. I didn’t force her to change how she felt, nor did I try to pacify her or make it a bigger deal than it needed to be. I told her, “I understand that change is hard for you, but what I need you to do is trust us. Trust that we can see further ahead, both in terms of your current needs and what may come up later. If we’ve made this decision, it’s because we’ve put a lot of thought and discussion into it. And with time, you might understand why.” I exposed her to the benefits of our decision and kept our conversations open. I believe that simply creating a space where she could share how she truly felt made all the difference. It validated her and, in doing so, helped her begin to move forward. Creating a space for open communication, without dismissing or minimising her feelings, became the most effective tool I used. It might not have been a big deal for me, but it was a big deal to her. Helping her make new friends by giving her tips on how to bond with others also supported her transition. Creating checklists and schedules helped us stay organised and on top of the new demands. It’s been a growing process for both of us, and I remind her often: this is new. It’s okay to make mistakes. Today, she still occasionally misses her old life, but she’s happily embracing this new chapter and is slowly beginning to understand why we made the decision to move.
Consulting Homoeopath, Registered Yoga Teacher
We often prepare ourselves for major life transitions, starting university, moving cities, settling into married life, and welcoming a new baby, but one shift that rarely gets the attention it deserves is the transition from a small school to a big one. It’s a meaningful change not just for the child, but for the parent too. As a mother of two, I’ve witnessed both ends of this journey. My daughter is now happily immersed in a large school, while my younger son is making the leap from a cosy nursery to Early Years in the same big school as his sister. He joined nursery last August, just a month shy of turning three. The environment was intimate and nurturing, with easy classroom access and frequent communication with his teacher. Within two months, he navigated the school confidently—albeit reluctantl—still clinging to me during drop-offs. Meanwhile, the nursery was located far from my daughter’s school, where she couldn’t wait to return after each holiday. The daily logistics were exhausting, and I knew it was time for a change. Our daily routine—dropping off and picking up my daughter—inadvertently helped my son get familiar with the larger school. He built connections with the security staff, learned how to swipe my lanyard at the entrance, and began looking forward to playing in the outdoor area. He even knew many of my daughter’s friends through playdates and loved being part of that world. But the moment I truly realised he was ready came unexpectedly. During my daughter’s swimming competition, we walked into the school, and my son dashed straight to the pool—no handholding, no hesitation. My heart jumped, worried I’d lost him in the crowd. Then I spotted him happily waving and walking alongside other familiar mums. That moment sealed my confidence in this transition. Big schools come with a wealth of resources: secure infrastructure, varied amenities, and strong academic programmes. Understanding their rhythm was essential, so I immersed myself: I volunteered as the class parent representative, attended seminars, and built relationships with teachers and staff. Organising playdates became another gentle way to bridge the gap. Most importantly, we talked to our son—an emotionally intuitive little soul—about the change. We reminded him that this was now his school too, where he already knew people, spaces, and routines. Including him in conversations helped reinforce his sense of belonging and excitement. Of course, I’m realistic. There will be tough mornings, some tears, and clingy hugs. But with consistency and empathy, I believe he’ll find his rhythm, just like his sister. That day isn’t far off, when he’ll wave goodbye at the gates, excited and confident… and maybe, even wish school lasted through the weekend.
Co-founders of Parent Connect Community, EQ Coach (“EQ for kidz”)
As with any transition, there are things you can do before, during, and after to ease the shift. I learned this first-hand when my son began his journey from kindergarten to “big school” this May. What surprised me most wasn’t how much he had to prepare, but how much we, as a family, had to shift our routines and emotions. Thankfully, his school crafted a thoughtful parent-child orientation, which was incredibly supportive. But the real work happened at home.
About two weeks before school started, my son asked, “Mama, when I go to big school will I be just like Papa?” His innocent question made me laugh and sparked an idea. I decided to tap into his admiration for his father and frame the transition as a step toward becoming more like Papa. We started drawing playful parallels: just like Papa chooses his own bag and shoes for work, so could he. Shopping together for supplies—his water bottle, comfort snacks, and even shoes—gave him a sense of autonomy and excitement. It encouraged decision-making and built confidence. After each trip, we reflected on how he’d made those choices and how he’s growing up, just like Papa once did. Apart from practicing our daily school routine, I introduced emotional literacy books: The Invisible String, I Miss You, Stinky Face, Llama Llama Misses Mama, and First Day Jitters. These helped him understand and label emotions. Personal stories helped, too: recalling times when Papa felt anxious about missing a flight, or when Mama had to take a driving test and deal with those feelings. I realised my most important role was being his emotional holding space—listening with presence and patience, validating his thoughts without rushing to fix or reassure, even if I didn’t fully agree.
This approach is something I continue to practice in our Parent Connect Community. We often explore how to hold space for our children, and for ourselves, during times of change. While our children take brave steps into school, we’re growing too. Our job as parents isn’t to ensure they never feel nervous. It’s to walk alongside them through those feelings, letting them know we’ll always be there.