I spent a lot of last week mulling over how I feel about having Noah in school. If you’ve been a long-time reader, you know that we plan to homeschool, but that we hit a rough patch with Noah and began looking into preschool options as a way to ease us into a better family place. You also know that I’ve been afraid having Noah in preschool will somehow make homeschooling disappear as an option. On that matter, I’ve definitely come to a conclusion: It won’t.
It’s completely natural for parents to second guess themselves completely freak out after enrolling their children in school. Right now, Noah’s attending a camp five mornings a week to help our family with this transition. I’m very, very grateful we’ve had the opportunity to put him in this camp. I’ve learned a number of important things. First, my hopes for homeschooling have been greatly reinforced. It’s not that I don’t like the Montessori method. On the contrary, I really think this is the best option for Noah right now because he has been asking for that time away, and it offers him choices with regards to his own education. I remember my time in Montessori quite fondly. It was the best year of school I had. In fact, there are only three things I’m uncomfortable with. They are:
1. There are no doors or curtains in the children’s bathroom, and the bathroom is for girls and boys. There is just an open door, a sink, and two stalls enclosed except for the front. Kids 3-6 use these restrooms. I understand why they are open–for the protection of the children. I would just prefer girls and boys to have separate restrooms.
2. Certain language is not tolerated. Again, I understand why. We even don’t tolerate particular language and attitudes in our house. If Noah is corrected at school, it’s done briefly, gently, and firmly. Other children have rights not to be subjected to violent or hurtful language. As a writer, though, I despise language police. I feel anxious that I have to shun words with Noah. I would have to do this in order to spend time with my family or go on playdates, but I really think it’s a waste of time. Experimenting with language isn’t like getting into drugs, weapons or sex, all of which can have disturbing or life-altering consequences. There are better things to put my energy into.
3. It’s still a school. Montessori is the best kind of school because children can move around, follow their interests, begin and complete long projects, use the restroom when they need to (they’re allowed to listen to their bodies and needn’t ask permission to do so!), and they aren’t graded on a judgment system. Children are exposed to other children of different ages. They are encouraged to work together and teach each other. They are allowed to get their own snack as needed. The only real classroom rule is “Put away your work before you start work.” (Put away what you’re working on before you start something new.) Teachers are merely there to facilitate and encourage. Lessons are given as needed, to one or many. I can observe any time. All the time if I want to. It’s even encouraged. But it’s still a classroom with classroom expectations. It’s still a school with school requirements. It still runs on a schedule that can become tiresome for both student and parent.
A second thing I’ve learned is that if Noah begins waking up in the mornings and showing anxiety about attending school, I will seriously, seriously consider pulling him out. I wouldn’t do it on a whim, but I felt anxiety about school every day for nearly my entire life. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t need to go. It very much hindered my ability to learn. It squashed my curiosity. It also killed a lot of my dreams. Once, I believed I could become a Marine Biologist, Writer and World Photographer. I dreamed of working for National Geographic. I loved sea life. I still dream of swimming with dolphins and manatees and working in conservation. But then I failed Pre-Calculus (don’t get me started on how useless that class was). There went those dreams–out the window. How could I possibly pursue Biology with zero Math skills? I would never be able to learn Math if I couldn’t do it my sophomore and junior years of high school.
It’s horrible and sad that I was taught to think that way.
The politics of American schooling for the parent and the student are atrocious. If your parents are on the Board of Directors, you receive preferential treatment because your parents affect salaries and job security. For example, I injured my knee during a basketball camp. I’m not saying I was great at basketball, but I did love it. I had surgery and began the recovery process. A teammate had the same injury and surgery. The coach began retraining her, spending special practices with her to get her back in the game. After a week of hanging out on the sidelines, I pulled my coach aside (with no little anxiety!) and told her I was ready to get back in the game. Could we work something out to make that happen?
The answer was no. I was explicitly told I wouldn’t be able to recover and that it wasn’t worth it for me to try. She also let me know she wasn’t going to help me. Then she went back to helping the other girl.
What do you think I took away from that? I was in eighth grade. It wasn’t like my body couldn’t bounce back. It wasn’t like I didn’t have dedication. I had approached the coach on my own and asked her a proactive question. I wanted to be on the team, even if it meant being benched. Ultimately, I gave up all sports. I’d been playing volleyball, training for track, was on my state swim team. I gave it all up because my teacher told me it wasn’t worth trying. And no other teacher stepped in to say I could do it. But the other girl? The entire school rallied around her. She’s now a teacher there. And guess what. Her dad was on the Board of Directors.
Maybe this was race or religion related. We all know there’s a story there. There’s always a story when it comes to race. That’s not the point. The point is teachers are supposed to set you up to succeed. They are who we are choosing for our children as mentors.
Some Many people will tell me that it’s all part of growing up–this cruelty or inconsideration. I’ve heard it time and again. It permeates our culture in phrases like, “Man up,” “That’s life,” “Life’s not fair,” and “I’m sorry it has to be this way.” I used to say it in my own ways. Then I had my own children. I see how beautifully my sons learn. They don’t always do things the way I expect them to. Sometimes they take a path I never knew existed, but they get the learning done, and they love the process. Maybe the world isn’t fair. Surely, they’ll come up against their share of exasperation. Even humiliation. That doesn’t mean that I or anyone else should encourage shame. Yes, feeling embarrassed is an important part of controlling the ego–of not being a jerk. However, I believe my children can grow up to be kind and considerate without humiliation or similar punitive tactics. In fact, I believe it’s more likely that they will grow up to be gentlemen if those tactics aren’t used on them. They can find embarrassment internally. Should a twelve-year-old be made to feel it externally? What about a six-year-old? What about a three-year-old?
Another issue: Why should Noah have a time-out for saying stupid when I don’t have to have one? I like 1,2,3 Magic because it has helped us get hitting under control. We’re still using it for language deemed unacceptable. As I’ve already stated, this language is not unacceptable in our home. I don’t think Noah should tell me to shut up. I don’t use those words, but I do hear them and occasionally they slip out. I do think Noah should respect his elders, but I don’t think an adult has free reign over a child. Children are a precious gift. It’s not our job ot control them. Once again, we should encourage them.
You’ve heard me mention Nonviolent Communications (NVC). In NVC, you express how you feel, what you need, and you make a request (which can receive a no). I very much prefer this method. I’d rather have Noah understand that some words are hurtful and have him stop using them on his own than teach him that he can’t say that because I said so. Ultimately, while I still appreciate and use 1,2,3 Magic, that’s what it’s telling kids. You do give them opportunity to think about their actions and make a better decision, but the end game is still that if they get to 3, you remove them bodily, if necessary, to a time out. You tell them, it’s not allowed, I said no, don’t do it, take a break whether you understand or not and no matter how hard you were trying.
In a nutshell, it won’t stop Noah from saying words I don’t like, but it will give him the tools to choose when to use them. He’s three. He’s learning what language does. I don’t want him using it as a whip on other kids, but I also don’t want him to feel he’s not allowed to learn it. These are words he picked up from movies that target toddlers. The big wide world is telling him to use them and not to use them. How should he interpret that?
I want Noah (and Gabriel) (and all children!) to learn at his pace. This means that he experiments with words. Fine. I don’t feel comfortable with telling him, “You can’t say that to me.” His teacher suggested that strategy this morning. He can say that to me. I don’t want him to. I feel sad if he does, but he can and will say it until he figures out that there’s a time and place, and it’s preferably on paper. I should also mention that I feel sad, but not because Noah is using these words (stupid, shut up, butts). I feel sad because I feel compelled to stop him from doing something natural. And I’m anxious about him losing his enjoyment of school if I don’t get a handle on it fast.
It is nearly unbearable to think about this coming year. We’ve committed to a school and its schedule. We’ve committed to its requirements for attendance and behavior. And payment. Our life will, for the next year, be run by Noah’s preschool. Everything from vacation to bedtime will be planned around it. We even pushed potty training so he would be able to attend. I don’t know that we’ll keep him in it next year. For him to derive the most benefit from the system, he should stay through preschool. But I can see an end to that rough patch we’ve experienced, and I don’t believe we’ll need to keep Noah in school past this year. It will all depend on what he wants. After all, my goals here are to provide the best I can for Noah.
In case you’re wondering what sparked this rambling rumination on a topic as trivial as “shut up,” I have no beef with the school. I spoke to Noah’s teacher and she’ll be noting the times of his most intense frustrations to see if they’re blood sugar related. We also discovered that they’d been keeping him from eating the cheese part of his snack because he’d been lactose-intolerant when I filled out the forms for admission two years ago. I didn’t think to update them or remember that they asked about allergies at that time. Finally, she and I discussed alternate methods for dealing with this difficult behavior. She indicated to me that she believes Noah is high-energy, high-intelligence, that Montessori is right for him, he’s right for Montessori, and that she wants him there. So now it’s just a matter of helping him to understand that he can’t speak a certain way at school and why.
None of this stems from anger. It stems from what every parent experiences when sending their child to experience life on their own. Fear. For him and myself. My greatest fear? I’ll grow so used to having the time away from him, I’ll be too scared to pull him out. Scared of spending time with my own child. What have I learned from this world?
I’m so grateful I have the option of homeschooling. I didn’t have them so someone else could raise them. I didn’t simply reproduce because I’m supposed to. I don’t want my children to be babysat until society deems them ready to join the world. Thank God I am in a position where only one of the two parents in our household needs to keep a job in order to provide for our family.
July 27th, 2009 | Category: 123 Magic, education, homeschooling, montessori, nonviolent communication (nvc), parenting, thrilling threes | Comments (5)
