The Girl and The Parent Teacher Meeting, Grade 2

This title sounds a bit ominous, maybe.

Actually, The Girl wasn’t really involved in this episode of MatGtGaM. This was mostly about me and the Girl’s Mum meeting with her teacher, Mrs, Segers. I’ve actually met her very briefly when the school held an assembly cum meet the teacher cum take a tour of your kid’s classroom – which we did.

This year, The Girl is in the same room for Grade 2 as she was for Grade 1, which I guess lends some continuity for her. But last year, she had two teachers who switched off days; Mrs. Samra had the first part of the week and Ms. Van Ouen had the latter. For grade 2, it’s all Mrs. Segers, plus a teachers aide who we also met, Donna.

In addition to regular class time, The Girl is a part of a smaller group within her class around the areas of reading and writing. It’s actually a great thing, since I think she loves having a bit more one on one time in that particular area, which is really what she’s used to at home.

But, one of the many things that impressed me about Mrs. Segers is that she seems to have a good handle on our daughter, personality-wise, and learning style-wise, too. She clearly has put in a lot of effort to figure out the finer points of how our child learns. It’s understood that every brain’s different.

Source: behance.net via Annabel on Pinterest

This is a very big deal, when you consider that teachers in the era in which I’m writing this have been through the wringer when it comes to support; big classrooms, long hours spent before class and after, and with not a great pay-scale for their work province wide. The disputes between teachers and our provincial government earlier this year, and the public outcry about how greedy and selfish they are to go on strike was a shocking display of how little we value educators in our society. In a year when NHL players have gone on strike  because they aren’t, apparently, being paid enough, and with no backlash saying how much they’re “hurting the kids by going on strike”, this is a particularly striking truth.

But, I digress.

The main thing is that Mrs. Segers does great work, acknowledging that even if The Girl isn’t much for sitting down and writing long narratives, she is still able to create them verbally. This is enough to make it understood that the Girl knows how to do it, and that she is not behind in gaining this important skill.

It’s been agreed that as soon as she gains enough confidence, the writing aspects will definitely evolve with it. Thinking back to my own early primary school career, and being told how badly I am at math (The Girl is a whiz in that area, which she gets from her Mum, no doubt …), that if I’d only been given the space to figure out that all I needed was confidence, and to be encouraged, maybe I wouldn’t balk so much at numbers even today (to be fair, I also had a teacher’s aide to help me – Mrs. Horkoff. Wherever you are, thank you …)

In any case, we were very encouraged that everyone seems to be on the same page where the Girl’s path to success is concerned. It seems to me that teachers and students is something of an unstable formula. We have great inspirational teachers, and we have ones who just don’t get us. And the results often bear it out. We’re in very good shape this year, it seems.

One thing we’ve resolved to do is to be involved as much as possible, to be encouraging to our daughter, and be grateful for the work that her teachers do to help our daughter along in her school career. The Girl’s progress is important, and it’s important that she hit the right targets as far as picking up the concepts she needs to pick up. But, there’s more to it than that.

She’s a pleaser, like her father. And she likes that sense of making someone else happy by achieving what she’s told she needs to achieve. But, what I’d like to communicate to her is that her education, her work, no matter if it’s grade 2 or her PHD, belongs to her. It represents a key avenue to her personal freedom, her own sense of fulfillment. It represents a fuller understanding of the world, and by extension is a key tool to self-discovery, self-expression, and an insight into the experiences of others, too. That’s what education is for.

The A’s and B’s, and even the jobs that come out of it, are just the frosting.

The Girl and The 2011 Christmas Concert

There are a lot of trials and tribulations when you’re a parent, to which many of you will attest. Parenting can be like eating a meal, where you love some of the food, and hate some of it, too, even if it has its place on your plate. The “brussel sprouts” of parenting can include visits to the hospital late at night because of irregular breathing (done it, a bunch of times too).  Being a dad, or a mum, can be life in the trenches. That’s the way of things, as sure as I’m prone to mixing my metaphors.

But, seeing your child sing in a Christmas concert is pure chocolate cake and ice cream. This is especially true when your child loves to sing, and clearly gets excited about making music.

Photo: Linda Bartman Photography

Last week, I attended The Girl’s Christmas Concert, which really incorporated a bunch of holidays to account for various cultures represented in the school. This is how school is in this early 21st Century. Recent backlashes, and this silly Fox News abetted “War Against Christmas” nonsense is just that – nonsense, although very politically motivated nonsense, even if proponents of that view say they’re against the politicization of holidays (a typical move from reactionary right wing pundits who have audiences to please – accuse the opposition of the thing you’re actually doing, while denying that you’re actually doing it …).

Culture has changed and so it should. That’s what it’s supposed to do.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes: chocolate cake and ice cream.

The Girl was gearing up for the event long before it happened, practicing hard at school, and telling us about it as the day lead up to it. On the day itself, we scored front row seats (thanks, Gramm!). The Girl and her class sang a few songs, both secular and Christmas Story-oriented. One was a kind of bluesy number that involved finger snapping – an ode to Christmas food. A number of days after, she and I sang a duet in the car together after she taught me the words. She’s still riffing on it, good people.

Photo: Linda Bartman Photography

The highlight was the children’s version of “Silent Night”, for which they also learned American Sign Language to go along with their singing. Amazing. I’ve had solo renditions of this performed for me, too.

It was incredible to see her up there.  And again, this is the stuff that makes people want to be parents in the first place.  I think this is because seeing your child perform, and enjoy performing, is one of the signs that they are gaining access to musical expression, in however small a capacity that might be.  It’s also a great context to see how happy they can be, and how proud they can be of practicing something, and then doing it well in front of other people. There’s just something about that which is powerful.

Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays!

The Girl and Grade 1

Even though the ritual of walking the Girl to school isn’t exactly new to me, given that we performed that ritual with her Mum when she first went to Kindergarten, Grade 1 seemed to be a whole new thing. Well, it was for me, anyway.

Last Friday, I took the morning and walked her to school. She stayed with me the night before, and when I gave her a bath, we got to talking about Grade 1. I’ve got some feedback from other parents that indicated that going into full-time school is kind of stressful. Some kids pick up on the subtle differences between kindergarten and The Big Show of the numbered grades. I can’t remember thinking that myself at that age, but maybe I did. I can certainly understand it.

So, when I asked the Girl about the thing she liked best about Grade 1 so far, she answered “Math”.

I was astounded. And pleased. Math was my personal bugbear in school. And I was glad to hear that she wasn’t as cowed as I had been.

OK, so no fear of the actual work seems to be a problem. Her second best thing of course was seeing her friends, many of whom she’d not seen since school let out in June.

September is a pretty magical time that way, it always seemed to me. It is in many ways a better month to me for the idea of a New Year than January would ever be. Even now, it remains so. And I’m certainly seeing something of a transformation in the Girl. There is more confidence there somehow. She is coming to terms with the idea that things are moving, and that they change, and doing so with a great deal of wisdom. She’s taking the best of it, and enjoying it.

I read her a story (Cyrus the Unsinkable Sea Serpant by Bill Peet), then she went right to sleep – no problem. By that time, she knew the drill I guess, the first day of school having been the Tuesday. But, for those days, it was mostly about orientation, and figuring out who’s class everyone was in. Friday was the day of getting down to it. It didn’t seem to faze her.

We woke up earliesh, just because I am driving across a bridge to get her to school. It’s the opposite direction from where the traffic from the ‘burbs and into Vancouver is going. But, I wanted to give it plenty of time, since driving over bridges in this area inexplicably complicates all matters. I parked in a little patch of green space in Sunshine Hills, where I used to take the Girl on walks to the park, well before the age school days.

We walked from there, careless. It was a glorious sunny day, which as you know reading this in the time it was written, has been all week. We made small talk, hand in hand down the hill. I’d told the Girl about my own Grade 1 teacher, Ms. Allen. I told her that Ms. Allen had been the one who had helped to teach me to read. You never forget the person who helped you learn to read.

The Girl as we walked to school, September 2011

When we got to the school, children, their parents, and lots of dogs on leashes awaited us. The Girl was shy, still confident, but a little on the introverted side when it came to meeting new people. She comes by that very honestly.

I told her another thing; that when I went to Grade 1, I walked to school with my friends, not driven by my Dad, or Mum. I told her that we always walked to school that way, and back home too (no parental chauffeur services then). Times have changed. I think many of the parents there were as nervous as some of the kids were, maybe remembering what going to school in a new year and new grade, wondering what awaited them there, had been like themselves.

She gave me a little squeeze, lined up, with her knapsack on her back, and filed into the school, aware or unaware of this ritual being something she would remember for the rest of her life being difficult to say.

But, perhaps that confidence she expressed the night before is the thing that counts most, not the minutiae. That to me is one of the missions of childhood – to gain confidence, build upon it, and maintain the momentum of that love of new experiences, new people in one’s life, and new lessons learned all around.

If one were to boil the value of school days down to a single focus, perhaps that’s it. Perhaps the same can be said of a great childhood in general. And we parents play our part, even if our kids will do most of the heavy lifting.

The Girl and Parent Night

Today, I attended what was called a student-led Parent night. This means that The Girl’s teacher, Mrs. Townsend, and the Girl herself, sat down and decided on what would be discussed/shown on the night itself. So, she’s in charge with her teacher overlooking the proceedings.

This is a big deal for me, given that every time I ask the Girl what she did at Kindergarten on any given day, the answer is invariably: “I don’t remember”.

I don’t hold this against her. What she did in kindergarten that day is so a-couple-of hours-ago. She is, as I’ve mentioned, a Creature of The Eternal Present.

So, the format of Parent night (actually, more like Parent Afternoon) was perfect in this respect. It put us in her world, scholastically speaking. She showed us the storybook she’s currently reading, the scientific experiments she’s working on (magnets!), math games using cards (the More or Less game!), her artwork, her favourite toys when she’s got all of her work done (farm animals, and dinosaurs!).

And of course, the big payoff is how proud she is of her own work, and showing it to us as it’s happening, sitting together around a low table in very tiny chairs that still have the same design as they did when I was in kindergarten. To me, that’s a vital, vital thing when it comes to school. Bored kids, kids that get into trouble, are those who have no sense of ownership or pride in what it is that they’re doing. Sometimes, it’s something to do with them. Sometimes, it’s what they’re given.

But, the point is that I hope the Girl always feels that her work is connected to her in some way, that she can be proud of it without it being just a burden of someone else’s expectations on her, even mine. That’s the difference between the love of learning and hating school, it seems to me.

And when it comes to this idea of loving learning and being proud of her work, this isn’t about me thinking about how school is going to prepare her for her future in the world of commerce. No. I mean that I hope she continues to be proud of her work for the rest of kindergarten.

Why wait for the future when you’re a Creature of the Eternal Present?