By Marc Mailhot, from GrandPals
Near the end of the school year, I had the chance to join Lorelle (program coordinator) and a group of GrandPals from Peninsula Manor for a video call. They were gathered around a laptop, with me appearing on a large TV screen at their end. I could not see everyone perfectly, but I could hear the warmth in the room almost immediately.
I had been looking forward to the conversation because, while I used to run GrandPals directly in my own classroom, my role has changed over the years. These days, I spend more time supporting communities as they bring the program to life. That means I do not always get the chance to sit with the GrandPals themselves and hear what the experience was like from their perspective.
This conversation was a reminder of why those voices matter so much.
One of the GrandPals began by commenting on how helpful the structure of the program had been. The activity sheets, discussion questions, and weekly themes helped open up the conversations with students. She said that sometimes people assume they have "nothing to say," but once the questions started, the memories came.
And what memories they were.
There was a story about getting lost in the bush near Hearst, Ontario, as a young teenager in the middle of winter. There were stories about Expo 67 in Montreal, a trip won through Ontario Paper, and connections with students whose families were already linked to the storyteller's own life in surprising ways. There were stories about Australia, koalas, travel, Europe, cream cakes, the Canary Islands, farming in Saskatchewan, moving to White River, and meeting a future husband in the Yukon.
One GrandPal described how a student made her a cake and brought the recipe after hearing stories about European desserts. Another talked about using maps, math, navigation, old tools, and a slightly tilted garage to help students think differently about the world around them. He said something that stayed with me: through the students, "you see your life through their eyes with a different perspective."
That is one of the quiet gifts of GrandPals.
The stories do not simply move in one direction, from older adult to student. The students' curiosity changes how the GrandPals see their own lives. A childhood memory becomes geography. A travel story becomes culture. A family move becomes a lesson in change. A crooked garage becomes a practical math problem. A trip across the world becomes a connection with a student preparing for travel of their own.
Again and again, the conversation showed how naturally curriculum comes alive when it is connected to real human experience. Maps were not just maps. They were places people had lived, visited, farmed, explored, or remembered. Math was not just a set of calculations. It was how you build something straight, measure an angle, or understand how people moved heavy materials long before modern equipment. History was not just something from a textbook. It was Expo 67, early travel, logging camps, rural schools, and the first Terry Fox walk-a-thons.
What I loved most, though, was that the GrandPals were not only reflecting on the year that had just finished. They were already thinking about next year.
One described this year as almost a "dress rehearsal." Now that she had experienced the program, she was already brainstorming new ideas. She wanted to share stories from Portugal, introduce students to cork trees, show objects made from cork, possibly bring in someone with a family connection to Portugal, and maybe even finish with Portuguese tarts.
Another was thinking about stories from Vancouver Island, including life near logging camps, remote communities, fishing, and travel by ferry. Another wanted to talk more about moving from a farm in Saskatchewan to White River, and the cultural adjustment that came with that change. Others had more wilderness, travel, navigation, and life stories ready to share.
That, to me, is one of the clearest signs of a healthy program. The GrandPals were not saying, "That was nice, and now it is over." They were saying, "Now I know what I could do next."
The impact on students was just as meaningful.
Lorelle shared that students were always very eager to attend school when they knew it was a GrandPal day. The GrandPals were also invited to the Grade 8 graduation and given special seating near the front. They spoke about seeing the students walk with pride and having the chance to meet some of their parents. It was a beautiful reminder that these relationships had grown beyond a classroom activity. The GrandPals had become part of the students' wider circle of support and celebration.
At the end of the call, I found myself thinking about how much young people can learn simply by being in conversation with older adults. Not in a formal lecture. Not through a screen or worksheet alone. Just through real stories, thoughtful questions, shared laughter, and the discovery that every person has lived through places, choices, challenges, surprises, and turning points that are worth remembering.
The students finished the year with written stories.
The GrandPals finished the year with new stories already waiting to be told.
And the rest of us were reminded that when generations are given the time and structure to connect, something very simple and very powerful can happen: people begin to see one another differently.
That is the heart of GrandPals.
About GrandPals
GrandPals is an intergenerational storytelling and mentorship initiative that connects older adults and students through meaningful community-based programming.
Through weekly conversations centered around themes such as home, family, learning, work, and travel, students develop empathy, listening skills, literacy, and deeper connections with older generations — while older adults are given meaningful opportunities to share stories, wisdom, and life experiences.
Learn more at grandpals.app