When is being normal not allowed?

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.