Unlike previous Septembers, this one was quiet.
In the past, Septembers were loud and emotional and full of tantrums. Frequent emails and phone calls from the principal and meetings at large tables with all of the key players.
This year, the return to school was quiet and the details we heard about school…almost completely quiet.
We held our breath and wondered if things were truly going well or were we just in the dark.
For once, I didn’t want to be “that” parent. I didn’t email and I didn’t ask.
Once October rolled around, the noise began. It started with Monday mornings being the most difficult. Then the complaining spread and infected the other days of the weeks.
“I’m tired and I don’t want to go.”
“My foot hurts and I don’t want to go.”
“I’m bored and I don’t want to go.”
“It’s loud and I don’t want to go.”
“I hate it there and I don’t want to go!”
Each time we heard a complaint, we explained it away. We worked to find solutions to the dilemmas and then new issues would pop up like annoying and persistent dandelions.
When I contact the school staff, either by emails or face to face meetings, I am left with more questions.
I am told that she knows the spelling is too easy, but that is her highest spelling group. She knows that the classroom is noisy because of all the cooperative learning that takes place and with that, I feel frustrated. When my son says that he is bored and his teacher agrees that he must be, I am left confused and annoyed.
The school staff is happy because he is acting appropriately. They see him eating in the lunchroom and attending music with the others, and they think the problems are solved. Maturity is the answer! They don’t understand what it takes for my son to hold it together and to comply with the rules. They don’t realize that it can’t stay this way, housing a boy instead of educating him, exciting him to all the possibilities that school can be.
The other day, my son said that he just tells everyone what they want to hear. He says school is fine because, “that is the right answer.” Being a highly introverted and sensitive kid, I’m sure it is easier to give the expected response.
Every morning, there is a repeat performance of the previous morning. He doesn’t want to get out of bed. He doesn’t want to get dressed. He doesn’t want to go to school.
As a teacher, it is hard to go to school and help other children, when I can’t seem to help my own. I can’t blame him for his feelings when it sounds as though his complaints are spot on and that little thought is given to making it better.
I hate that my kid hates school!
Has your child ever hated school? What did you do about it?