Raw Drip

There’s a quote I read while pregnant with Adam that continues to mean a great deal to me because it so beautifully captures the inner conflict of being a parent.

“Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.” ~Elizabeth Stone

Every day I’m reminded of this idea as I drop off my children at their daycare center and alternately long for their growth and independence as I strategize every possible way to protect them.

Upon returning to Florida, naturally, we were looking for the very best, highest quality preschool we could afford. We thought we’d found that in Preschool X, as I’ll call them. With their exalted reputation in the community, spotlessly clean, wall-papered & carpeted hallways and the interchangeably cheerful blonde staff members, the image they projected certainly went a long way towards persuading us that theirs was the finest, most urbane, civilized environment for educating our children.

But, as it turned out, we were wrong about the importance of image in selecting a daycare provider, and wrong about a great many other things, as well…

About 6 weeks ago I got a report from Adam that he had lost his good behavior sticker for the day because he argued with his teacher about cutting airplanes out of construction paper. Apparently his table had been assigned to cutting out airports – NOT airplanes and when he asked to cut out an airplane, the teacher refused. After several minutes of debate, they reached a stalemate ultimately ending up with Adam losing his sticker for the day and missing out on his first chance to redeem his stickers for a toy from the treasure chest. Of course, he was devastated by this turn of events.

Later, when I spoke with his teacher, her explanation of the whole airplane/airport activity didn’t make any sense to me. The objective of the exercise was to help the children learn how to use scissors. But if that was the case who cares what they cut out? As far as I’m concerned, let them cut out little terrorist and shoe bomber shapes. Whatever. Heck, 4 years old have the rest of their lives to spend sitting still in their chairs, dutifully performing uninspiring activities so why are we trying to thrust such tasks upon them now when we’re supposed to be nurturing their imaginations? I can see why order needs to be maintained in a classroom of twenty-six 4 & 5 year olds, but did she really need to take this one to the mat?

By the time we were nearly 8 weeks into our time at Preschool X, the situation had deteriorated further. Dick and I began to dread the sound of our cell phone ringing for fear it was the Preschool’s administration fembots calling us to tell us that Adam was being disruptive in class, or Adam was hitting his friends on the playground. I wanted to yell into the phone at them, “Why are you calling me to tell me he’s a normal 4 year old boy. Are you not trained to deal with misbehavior?” But instead, I allowed my own insecurities as a parent to get in the way of my instincts. Rather than question their approach, I feared that my kid was somehow abnormal and began heading into that panicked territory all of our mommy brains go where you can envision their entire future in an instant complete with the details of their inevitable incarceration.

As my mind stayed in a constant panicked state, waiting for the next phone call or note to sign, Adam’s morning drop-off routine began to resemble an Anthony Robbins motivational lecture – 30 minutes of pep-talk with me desperately trying to convince him that school is fun if he makes it fun. “Everyone has more fun when we all follow the rules,” I would plead – myself only half believing the pitch.

And yet I couldn’t disagree with the poor little guy. School was clearly not fun for him. With daily reports coming home from the teacher with commentary such as, “Adam lost his good behavior sticker today for standing next to, rather than sitting in his chair during his table work” or “Adam lost his sticker today for touching his neighbor’s food during lunch” it became obvious that his teachers viewed him as a precocious trouble-maker and that Adam was feeling constantly ridiculed.

Finally we came to realize that it was ridiculous of us to expect Adam to abandon his natural curiosity in favor of obeying rules that were largely beyond the grasp of a 4 year old. Even more worrisome to us was seeing how this whole situation (with its constant negative feedback) was the perfect set-up for a life spent disdaining authority, or worse avoiding the challenges of leadership or academic achievement for fear of failure. I may regret these words when they’re used against me later by my teenage children, but if we only taught children to be fearful of rules and to obey them without question, how would we teach them to think? Any intelligent adult will tell you that a day at the office perfectly illustrates this point. The world is overflowing with people who can follow the rules and do as they’re told, but very few people are very good critical thinkers or creative problem-solvers.

Our biggest mistake with Preschool X was that we allowed ourselves to be distracted by the tidy appearances, shiny marketing, and positive word of mouth. We were snowed by a lot of talk about forming nurturing partnerships with parents, when in reality, Preschool X’s idea of partnership is to micro-manage and report up.

It’s hard to forgive yourself for assuming that all the trouble lies in your own flawed parenting. It’s really hard to forgive yourself for putting your kid in an environment that operates contrary to all the values of your household and then blames him when things don’t go well. We’ve learned a lot from this experience and know now that if we do nothing else well in this world, we need to be vociferous advocates for our children – period. Sadly, with this Preschool X fiasco, I know now that it wasn’t Adam that could’ve done better, it was we that could have done better for Adam.

Of course my son is nothing if not bright, tenacious, and resilient. Much to my relief, he’s completely unlike his unobservant father in his ability to absorb every little detail of his surroundings and then talk about his observations at length with us. As with most children, his is the flexible mind of an artist and a scientist all wrapped up in one. While it can be exhausting to keep up with all of this mental dexterity, seeing his elastic mind grow in all directions almost simultaneously is a beautiful and remarkable thing to behold. I remain hopeful that we can find a place for Adam that cherishes that growth and seeks to foster it through play and creative expression, that partners with parents in a meaningful way and that favors the fair and yet stringent application of caring & tolerance over inflexible rules. Our delicate little hearts walking around outside our bodies deserve no less.