scribblechic

School. One word weighted with hope and worry. There was a time both of my children longed for school. They reached for a place of belonging with eager hands and curious minds. Now I feel their hesitation as clearly as I remember their joy. As we near the first day of school I want to acknowledge my children’s feelings alongside my dreams.

To my children, traditional classrooms are a well-defined space of rules and repetition. My darling round pegs you do not fit comfortably in these tidy square spaces. This is okay. Difficult days, moments of misunderstanding and frustration, will challenge your confidence but each of you are blessed with talents and strengths that reaffirm your ability to succeed. Your greatest assets are your dreams, determination, and resilience.

To my son, I see the impossibility of absorbing academic materials while trying to deconstruct social expectations. You are perpetually performing, testing on two planes; endeavoring to model appropriate social behavior while reeling in your need to create sound and movement. Simultaneously you listen, gathering almost everything said in lectures, but lost to the monotonous work that accompanies repetition for mastery. Bottom line: you need the practice despite your intelligence. It is boring, so are many details of daily life. Manage the small details with the same energy you brush your teeth and make your bed. By the way, please brush your teeth and make your bed.

To my daughter, if only your work were graded on effort and heart; there could be no greater measure of worth and yet you align your value by your weaknesses. Spelling and reading, math facts and word problems taunt you while your creative skills and comprehension of life’s greater truths reassure me of your gifts. I cannot dismiss you of reading, writing, and arithmetic; these are skills you need to build. One day these very same building blocks will allow you to create your own story. It feels a long way off, the challenges unending, but there are always challenges when we live fully.

To my children’s teachers, I wish you could see the devotion that burns brightly behind words of encouragement. Challenge them to reach beyond their comfort zones but make certain you see the effort behind imperfect work. Sloppy handwriting and incorrect answers are evidence of effort unedited by their parents’ hands. Highlight where they have room to grow, but celebrate each improvement.

To my husband, meet me at the dinner table for homework. Remind me when I forget that learning begins with curiosity and ends with criticism so that I am patient. May our home be a safe haven for failure and dreams that our children are not intimidated to explore their world in search of possibility.

Tagged: Children, Musings, School