Archie keeps wandering around the house asking, “whah hapeeeend?” He does this is we laugh at a joke, if we fall and curse, if the Wiggles stop singing. We explain and he goes, (as though explaining a joke from the West Wing actually makes sense to a two year old,) he says, wisely, “ohhh.”
He might wonder what’s chafing me right now, and I’ll try to answer.
April:
We attend an open house. Mrs. Guinn’s classroom is warm and inviting, and more importantly, it looks like children actually go there. The pictures don’t match each other, indicating some creativity is encouraged, and the general “feel” of the room is warm. Mrs. Guinn responds to my question about her discipline philosophy quickly and without stumbling around that she believes children can problem solve with her assistance when there are behaviors that need to be addressed. She appears to be quite congruent with our own discipline style. We request her classroom and celebrate when Carter is assigned to it.
September:
School Starts. Carter is a kindergartner! We manage to get his backpack, folder and name-tag all done and walk across the street, excited and a a little scared about starting this new chapter of our lives. We nervously meet a few new parents and then get shuffled out the door. During pick up time, Archie and I start to make friends with the other parents that pick up their kids.
Signs appear in the hallway that read, “Parents, please allow your children to proceed from here to their classrooms alone,” or something like that. It is clear that these signs to not apply to Kindergartners, but it is disconcerting to parents that are attempting a genuine “transfer of attachment” from the parent to the teacher for the day. We like the idea that in the morning, we show our child through actions that we are sending them to a teacher we like and trust- “Good Morning, Mrs. Guinn. Have a great day with our firstborn.” Such an interaction communicates to our son that we expect him to afford her the same respect and trust he does us. Also, any opportunities to build community with other parents is diminished to almost nothing by losing casual greetings. Many people who are intimidated by large crowds at potlucks can make friends through morning hellos.
Carter’s folder comes home with a note describing their new classroom discipline policy. A similar program, but not quite the same . Mrs. Guinn’s implementation is somewhat less punitive than the one in the link. I make an appointment to share with her our concerns about a the system- namely that it is taking the focus away from learning, connecting and growing, on onto cards, prizes and praise. I think I managed to express my desire for our child to develop an internal locus of control rather than only behaving in a pro-social manner in the hopes of getting a plastic action figure.
During our meeting I flounder about a little because she is a dear teacher, and has valid points about her class size making it difficult to manage the kids enough to meet her curriculum demands. I ask how we can help- are there volunteer opportunities, etc, and she responds that she appreciates it, but really, parent volunteers sometimes alter the children’s behavior and make it harder to concentrate.
She uses that point as a segue into her agenda: Kevin needs to “transition” from actually coming into the classroom in the morning. I ask why. She explains that she is concerned that Carter might not be able to continue on with his morning routine once Kevin leaves. I ask if that has happened before, she says no. I agree to present her concerns to Kevin, but make no promises.
At home, we ask Carter how he feels about drop off in the morning. He responds that it’s his favorite time of day because Daddy gets to see his school and his friends. Kevin asks how he would feel about a quick hug at the door instead of actually walking him to his seat. Carter responds, “I wouldn’t care for that at all.” We continue things as we had been, and no one stops us, although mornings are already more tense.
