What can kids learn from a particularly round raccoon named Jimothy? Turns out, quite a lot, at least according to Rachel Pendergast-Weiss, a 2nd and 3rd-grade teacher in Seattle.
Jimothy became an internet sensation over the past few weeks, adored by millions for his unusually short, rounded body and distinct trot (likely due to a spinal deformity colloquially called “short spine syndrome,” or something similar, experts say) after multiple sightings in Seattle.
He’s compiled impressive honors: an official city proclamation declaring this “Jimothy Summer,” an honorary doctorate degree from the University of Washington, a feature on Roku TV screensavers worldwide, and even a nod from the Trump administration on social media portraying the raccoon as an adherent of the president’s.
While the world has fallen in love with all the features that make Jimothy unique, Pendergast-Weiss saw an opportunity beyond the viral moment.
To the veteran teacher, Jimothy is a way to connect with students and teach them about inclusion, wildlife conservation and rehabilitation, and so much more.
“Jimothy’s story is something kids are naturally drawn to, just like adults,” Pendergast-Weiss said. “Instead of just letting this be a funny, fleeting moment, I want this to be something we can use to teach environmental stewardship, learn to love our neighbors and protect them, teach media literacy, and come together as a community.”
Pendergast-Weiss, who’s taught for 12 years at Dearborn Park International School, plans to use Jimothy as an unofficial mascot in her classroom when school reopens in early September, complete with a stuffed animal of the raccoon that she made herself. (In her spare time, Pendergast-Weiss makes stuffed animals and sells them at a booth at Pike Place Market in Seattle. She’s donating some proceeds from sales of Jimothy plushies to the city’s parks and recreation department.)
She plans to use Jimothy to prompt classroom discussions on inclusivity and belonging—“how everyone deserves a place to feel safe and belong, and how being different should be celebrated and not seen as bad,” she said.
Jimothy will also anchor kids’ literacy lessons. Pendergast-Weiss will ask students to keep a journal, as if they are Jimothy themselves. Students will get to decide whether Jimothy is just a regular raccoon unaware of his fame, or if he knows he is beloved by millions and has to handle being a celebrity. Other writing activities may include comic strips, newspaper articles, and opinion pieces like “Should Jimothy be Seattle’s official mascot?”
Throughout the school year, students will be able to earn raccoon “paw prints” as a class for doing kind things to help their community, Pendergast-Weiss said—including someone in a recess activity, helping a classmate, picking up litter, showing responsibility.
They’ll be able to redeem paw prints to earn class rewards and parties.
Ultimately, Pendergast-Weiss hopes leaning into the Jimothy fandom creates opportunities to connect with students, and that they walk away at the end of the school year with a deeper appreciation for wildlife and each other.
“I want them to know how important it is to take care of our community,” she said, “and that can mean a lot of things, like being nice to each other or taking care of the Earth and protecting the animals in it.”
