Public School Blues

I know I have written in the past about how hard it is to keep up with what’s happening in your child’s life. Once you learn how to handle new behaviors or circumstances, then something changes again and catches you off guard. Even when you try to anticipate things coming up, they never turn out the way you expect them too. I just hate how from time to time I feel like I am just bumbling around in the dark with no guidance whatsoever, meanwhile I look around at the other parents who all seem to have navigated their way through new situations without too much trouble. Or maybe that’s just my perception, and they feel just as lost as I do.

 

My most recent cause for restless nights spent plagued with self-doubt and frustration, is sending my oldest child off to public school for kindergarten. I knew it would be different. I knew the day was longer than preschool (kindergarten here is a 6 ½ hour day). I knew the class sizes would be bigger. I knew I’d miss my son even though I thought he could handle the longer hours and could use more stimulation. But, naively perhaps, I though I might still be able to be involved in his day.

 

“Schools need parents to volunteer!” I read in the papers all the time. You can count on me I thought, I would volunteer at the school.

 

“Kids do better when their parents are involved in their learning, how can we expect them to learn if parents aren’t helping and working with their kids at home?” No problem, I would know what’s going on and work with my child at home!

 

“Kids like to see their parents in the classroom and school, it makes them feel cared for and a part of the community.” Okay, my child will see my face!

 

I thought it was so nice that the teachers walk the kids to the front door for parents to pick them up.  I thought how delighted they must be to see the group of involved, helpful parents out there picking up their kids. I was sure I would get to know his teacher a little and have an opportunity to discuss a concern or hear a funny anecdote from time to time. I thought there would be some communication between parents and teachers so that we know how our kids are doing.

 

There I was, an eager mom, willing to be a do-gooder. Gosh, I will volunteer at that school and do whatever they need: read to kids, button coats, help the kids cut out shapes, bake cookies, you name it. Schools may not feel the support of parents in some areas, but I will not be part of that problem. So, I attended the volunteer training and joined the PTA. I offered to volunteer in the classroom. I did volunteer in the cafeteria. My son started kindergarten and really liked it from day one.

 

I was a little discouraged at first that his teacher would walk the students outside but not make eye contact with the parents. I waited with anticipation for the day that parents were invited into the classroom to observe. I came, I observed, I offered again to volunteer. His teacher looked at me coolly and distantly and said a vague, okay….but did not take me up on my offer. I waited anxiously for conference day. I wondered, how is my son doing? Is he trying? Making new friends? Following directions? Does he seem happy? Is he learning new skills? Does his teacher seem to like him and get a kick out of some of his quirks the way his preschool teachers did? Conference time rolled around, and we were not assigned a time. I called and left the teacher a message. No response. I approached her after school at pick-up time. She seemed annoyed and said, “do you really want a conference? I can’t think of anything too terribly horrible that needs to be discussed.” My stomach lurched. Terribly horrible? She doesn’t want me to come in because my son doesn’t have any terribly horrible problems? I have to say, I was expecting a very different response. I assured her I did want to come in. She eventually found me a time. She delivered little information at the conference. She didn’t talk about my son much as a person, but did seem aware of his interests and seemed very competent as an educator, which was somewhat reassuring.

 

A month or two passed. I volunteered more in the cafeteria, the only place in the school that I felt welcome. My son loves it when I come and it’s fun to see him during the school day. I asked the volunteer coordinator if there’s any other volunteering I can do, and she suggested that during recess the teachers can always use help because the kindergartners can be so unruly. I went out to the playground and went up to his teacher and said I’d be happy to help watch the kids. She said, “we don’t need any help but you’re welcome to stay.” Then she turned her back. I watched for a while as the kindergartners ran around aimlessly and sort of played together but not really. They looked so little. I left.

 

My son came home from school and announced he was advancing in reading groups—how neat! I encouraged him to read to me at home, but he refused, saying it was boring. I thought about the fact that he really only enjoys non-fiction books. He loves facts and figures. Birds’ wingspans, dinosaurs’ running speeds, plant identification. He wakes us up in the morning by poking us with the pointy corners of books and saying thing like, “mommy, the peregrine falcon is the fastest animal on earth!” I know he likes books, but it’s hard to find beginner-readers that have information he’s interested in reading. I looked in the library and asked the librarian, but didn’t find much. I thought his teacher, who has been teaching kids to read for 30 years, might have some suggestions. I thought, how can she mind if I just ask her for a recommendation and take three minutes of her time? I thought I could fold in a quick question about how he’s doing socially, as he tends to be reserved and only plays with girls. I have been worried about whether or not he is accepted by and mixes with boys and figured that someone who’s with him 6 and ½ hours per day might have some idea. Well, apparently she found those questions offensive because she couldn’t come up with any titles for books for him and glared at me regarding the male playmate question responding with one boy’s name. Then she said, “that’s it. Sometimes they choose each other as a partner, but he’s the only one, that’s it.”

 

I like to think that my reaction was natural—I ended up more worried. Not only is my son reserved, but, by the way she said it, he has social problems. He only interacts with one boy, and then, only to partner up occasionally.

 

Anyway, by this point you get the idea. The two notes I had sent in (in four months) were ignored. I suspected she felt pestered, but also couldn’t really figure how I could be perceived as a pest, since I contacted her infrequently, and then, only had a specific question or hoped for a few minutes of her time.

 

And this leads me to the present. We returned from Christmas break. I was still shocked and angry by his teacher’s cold and odd behavior. I thought maybe I had it all wrong—that teachers never speak to or deal with parents of 5 and 6-year olds at all, and that I am the one at fault. I asked the principal what I should expect regarding communication with his teacher, and how to best go about it. I could tell by her look that she was frustrated with this teacher and topic too. She made it clear that she doesn’t like the way this teacher is with parents at all, and suggested I send in a note requesting a meeting. Then she said she wanted to know if the teacher responded, and how that went.

 

After my interactions with my son’s teacher, I was not eager to deal with her horrible interpersonal skills again, but alas, a couple of new developments arose that did make me want to speak with her. The first was that my son said there was a kid bullying and harassing other kids at recess behind the playground equipment where the teachers couldn’t see him. The other was that my son was complaining of being bored and I wanted to know if she thought this could be true and if there was anything that could be done about that. More specifically, my son started doing some advanced math computations while calculating different attributes of the various creatures he’s interested in. I sent in one last note. It was brief, explanatory, and deferential. I filled it with things like, “does this seem possible?” and “what would you recommend?” I said I could be reached by phone, email, or could talk after school, and would accommodate her schedule. No response. Every day the principal asked me if I’d heard anything. Finally, when picking my son up from school, I asked her if she received my note.

 

Well, nothing new here. Regarding the bullying, she said that my son is rough too, and she avoided altogether the question about whether my son might be bored and if we may want to consider more challenging options for him. She simply didn’t want to talk to me.

 

So, what’s my role? So far I feel as if I’ve been given a shove. I’ve been shown that they own the kids when they’re in school, and they don’t want to have to answer to parents or even talk to parents. How can we advocate for our children? It’s my job to do the best I can for my kids. I don’t expect the teachers there to particularly care about my kids, but I sure as hell do.

 

I don’t feel I’m asking for much—just a quick check in now and again to make sure all is well—that my child is doing fine socially, is progressing well in all areas of development, is challenged, etc. I don’t expect detailed accounts of his day, that would be overkill and ridiculous, but it’s unacceptable to think that I’m expected to just toss my kids in there for 6 and ½ hours every day and have no idea what’s going on. What if they miss something? I don’t want to find out too late that there’s a problem that could have been corrected if detected early.    

 

Well, it’s been about two weeks since I began writing this. I had decided to back off for now because I don’t know what else to do. My son continues to enjoy school, so, since he is only in kindergarten after all I decided I may as well get some sleep and relax a little. At pick-up time I kept my distance. Lo and behold, wouldn’t you know it? My son started coming home with extra assignments. His teacher was asking him to do “reports” on some of the creatures he’s so fond of. Now he comes home, glowing with excitement, because he’s been asked to draw an anaconda and a reticulated python, or a gibbon, or research which snake is the smallest in the world, and then must write a couple sentences about them. His teacher even walked up to me after school yesterday to talk about his love of the natural world. Miracles never cease.

 

And so, I am left with a sense of satisfaction that his teacher is recognizing some of his abilities and needs, and also with a sense of happiness that I did the right thing in helping call her attention to them. I don’t want to be an annoying parent, but I also don’t want my children to wander anonymously through a system that may just try to push them to the middle. I want to support public schools (and don’t have an option anyway as private schools are too expensive), and am among the many parents I know that will volunteer our time to help make our schools better for all children. I am cautiously optimistic that I will have an opportunity to do so. I truly hope that I don’t find out that our public schools don’t really want us parents around at all—that we’re not dealing with a local school, but rather a government and union-run institution that has little regard for the individual.

Tags: education, parenting, public school