When is being normal not allowed?
When LSH and I made the decision to become parents, we knew
that there would be times of anxiety, sadness and confusion on the journey,
hopefully lessened by times of great joy. If you had told me that the source of
greatest stress in the first seven years of S&H’s life would be his education,
I quite simply would not have believed you. But right now, it’s true.
LSH and I
were determined from the start to provide S&H with the chance to get the
best educational opportunity for himself. We looked around. We visited schools
and talked to principals. We spent a lot of time wondering who S&H was
going to be like and what would suit his educational (academic and social)
needs. Probably too much time. But that’s what you get when you have new parents
in their 30s and an only child. I never said we knew what we were doing J
At the age of three and a half, S&H entered the
mainstream schooling system. We enrolled
him at a school that we believed met all the criteria – good academic record,
great facilities, small classes, a range of extra curriculum activities that promoted
individual growth and social awareness. Awesome. S&H the Prime Minister of
Australia (or indeed the US President) – we were set. Only joking. Well,
partly. Who doesn’t want to see their kid do well?
S&H is bright, he is articulate, he is interested in the
world around him. He has a great imagination and a creative mind that astounds
me on a regular basis. But here’s the
thing. S&H is a lot like his mother.
And his maternal grandfather. In that he LOVES TO TALK.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that. As a child, I was surrounded by people who
encouraged me to have an opinion, and to express it appropriately. I enjoyed public speaking and debated at
school, and at university. Hell, I even got a law degree so I could make a
living telling people what I thought.
And my son is no different, in that he has a lot to say and wants to say
it. A LOT.
I should also point out that this does not mean he is
precocious. Don’t take my word for it,
though. S&H is frequently complimented
by our friends (old and not so old) on his manners, his consideration, his
conversation and his ability to engage others.
Random strangers in the street and in shops have stopped me to tell me
what a polite boy I have, when he allows people to walk through doors before
him, or gets up to let someone sit on a bench, or hands them a basket in the
supermarket. So, he’s a good boy. But as
I said earlier, he does like to talk.
In the years between starting school and finishing Prep last
year, I guess we had the normal run of events and issues. S&H loves school,
really enjoys learning and being with his friends. He has also been guilty of the usual boy type
behaviour when he’s with his friends, being rowdy and silly, but he’s not mean
or spiteful. He’s popular with the boys and the girls seem to like him too.
So this year we expected nothing out of the ordinary. Grade
1 – what an exciting time! The “real” learning starts here – more reading,
writing, lessons like us old people used to have – maths, science – wow watch
that boy absorb knowledge like a sponge. Every day there is something to share,
an experience, a fact, something new.
And another new thing. Negative
feedback.
At this school every student has a diary, in which teachers
communicate with parents and vice versa.
It’s not a set thing; last year we would go for weeks without sending
notes into school or having something come home from class. Not this year.
Well, at first it seemed that things were the same, just general and positive
comments when S&H had participated well or achieved something. But then the
negative comments started. And what were they about? Was S&H hitting
people? Was he being mean and uncaring? Did he steal someone’s lunch money? Oh
God, did he throw a computer out the window??!
No. Apparently S&H has a problem in that he does not put
his hand up before he speaks in class.
OK.
Breathe.
I understand why, in a class of 18 children, there has to be
some order. I appreciate the need to impose this order so that the class can
function like a class and not like a badly organised riot. I get that. I
really, really do. But seriously, what does the teacher expect LSH and I to do
about this?! Is it not her responsibility to address this with S&H? And
what does she think writing about it in the diary will do?!
Well, I’ll tell you what it does. It makes me angry, and
disappointed, and sad, and then angry again. In that order.
I read the comment and I get angry. I say to S&H, “Ms X
says you have been talking without putting up your hand again. Why? Why can’t
you just put up your hand and wait to be called on?” And S&H says, “I have a
lot to say and I don’t want to wait”. In my more rational moments I can reflect
on that comment and think, fair enough. Sometimes we all have a lot to say and
we want to say it and we don’t want to wait. And we don’t put up our hands and
wait to be called on. But at this stage of the conversation I’m not rational. I’m
angry. I’m angry that my son is being criticised. I’m angry that my son, who is
intelligent and thoughtful and astute, cannot appreciate the need to follow
this rule in the class. I’m angry because maybe it’s something I have done. Or
maybe it’s because of who I am, and S&H is like me, and now he’s in trouble
for it.
So that’s when I start ranting. Usually the rant lasts from
the playground to the car and then in the car all the way home. I say things
like “I’m so disappointed”, “Why can’t you just do what Ms X asks?” and if I
really get worked up, “Perhaps we need to send to you another school that can
manage your behaviour a bit better”. For God’s sake. It’s not like he burned
books in the playground. But again, I’m not at the rational part yet.
By the time we get home, I’m disappointed. I’m doubting myself
as a parent and wondering why S&H isn’t like all the “other” children,
those mythical angelic ones, who never speak unless they are spoken to, have
perfect handwriting and keep their uniform clean all week (Yeah I know, they don’t
exist. But I’m not being rational, remember). Sigh. It’s all my fault (and of
course, the fault of LSH but that’s implied in everything so not worth
articulating…). Why couldn’t I have been quieter? More reserved? Perhaps I
talked to S&H too much as a baby? Overstimulated him? Made him too assertive?
Sigh….
So now I get sad. Because I hate being angry with S&H,
REALLY hate it. I hate myself for getting angry with him. Because he’s a good
boy, a great child and he doesn’t need me chipping him about something that
happened at school. He’s not like that at home. He speaks respectfully and we
have great conversations about all sorts of things. Even while I have been
going through my “disappointed” phase, he is talking to me, asking me about my
day, offering to help with the laundry…Shit. I’m such a bad mother. Why the
hell did I overreact like that? He doesn’t deserve that. What was I thinking?
Oh yeah. I know what I was thinking. And that’s when I get angry again.
So I’m thinking a couple of things. First and foremost, if
the “bad” behaviour takes place at school, shouldn’t it be addressed by the
school, in school time? Why are we constantly being told about what is essentially a minor offence against classroom etiquette? And what are we
expected to do about it? I’m no psychologist, but I have worked with children
and adolescents for nearly twenty years. And the golden rule I have always been
told to observe by behavioural specialists is, if there is a negative behaviour
or action, the consequence needs to be immediate to have the highest possible
chance of effect. So, what effect is there in me telling S&H off about his
behaviour in class once school is finished? Bugger all, that’s what. What would
have the greatest effect? Now say it with me, the TEACHER addressing the
behaviour when it occurs, in the class! Well done. Now if I can fathom that,
why can’t she? Or does she just not want to?!
Second, S&H has just turned seven. SEVEN. Not seventeen. Not twenty
seven. Again, not a behavioural specialist, but have done enough reading to
know that S&H is still finding his way in the world, working out the social
rules and above all, testing the boundaries. And you know what? If he can get
his opinion out there, he will do so. Or at least have a damn good try. Can I
fault him for that? When I am being irrational, definitely. But when I am my
usual rational self, I don’t think I can. It’s normal behaviour for a child. It’s
not mean spirited, vengeful, hurtful or vicious. He’s not trying to hurt anyone
or cause any grief. He’s just trying to have his say. And I would be more
disappointed if he did not want to do that, or if he felt that he was being unfairly
prevented from doing th
Now if his teacher can’t handle that, maybe it’s just too
bad.
