Hello! This post has moved to our website.
You can find it here: http://consciouslyparenting.com/parenting-36000-feet/
See you there!
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Consciously Meal Planning?
Hello! This post has moved to our website.
You can find it here: http://consciouslyparenting.com/consciously-meal-planning/
See you there!
You can find it here: http://consciouslyparenting.com/consciously-meal-planning/
See you there!
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
New Class!
I'm excited to announce the birth of my new baby- a class based upon my book that will one day (soon) be finished (I promise!). The 5 week class is called Consciously Repairing Relationships and it is based upon the mismatch between what we think parenting will be like and the reality of parenting. On my own parenting journey, I read inspiring books that left me feeling inept. Why couldn't I parent that way? What was in the way? This class is about what is in the way and how to move through it, into peace and unconditional love for yourself and your children. It talks about the brain science of parenting, so it isn't just based in opinion. But it isn't full of mumbo jumbo, either.
So much of parenting information is about short term compliance. When we focus on that, we might get them to do what we ask when we're looking, but it doesn't help the relationship! And what happens when our backs are turned? When we focus on our relationship, our child's natural desire to please us can surface. This class is about removing the parenting Chinese Handcuffs together. In this process, we'll understanding ourselves and our children in a whole new light and start moving into a peace we often dreamed of, but weren't sure was possible.
These classes are like nothing else out there! Participants don't want the classes to end (and I hate to see parents go, too!) and often find themselves with bonds to friends from all over the world. Classes are based very much upon what is going on with each family, rather than just a lecture. They are more like parenting support classes than just a class you take and soon forget about. Expect to be transformed in ways you didn't think possible! Just remember, parenting is a journey, not a destination, and lasting change takes time and dedication to achieve. But it is possible if you're willing to take the first steps on this journey!
I'm hosting a free demo class next Tuesday, January 5 at 8:30PM Eastern so that you can see what the class is like. This class will be a Webinar, which means that you'll be able to see me on video and see my Power Point presentation. If you don't have access to a computer at that time, you can call in and just listen to the presentation or you can watch the recording later. If you're interested in joining in on the free Webinar, please send an email to Lianne at admin@consciouslyparenting.com and she'll make sure you're on the list to get the information!
We're having a buy one, get one free special for my two classes starting in January- Connection Parenting and Consciously Repairing Relationships. If you love Consciously Parenting classes and have been trying to get a friend to try it out, now is your chance! Or if you've always wanted to try a class, but just hadn't done it yet, now is a great time. You can split the cost with a friend or gift your friend with a free class. But don't miss it! Once this class is full (registration is capped at 7), this deal will be gone.
Here's a link to the course description and the sign up page.
Blessings to each of you for a prosperous and connected New Year!
Rebecca
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Chinese Handcuffs
Hello! This post has moved to our website.
You can find it here: http://consciouslyparenting.com/struggling-like-stuck-chinese-handcuffs/
See you there!
Thursday, September 17, 2009
A new beginning
I haven't written for a while on the subject of Kindergarten and Josh's transition. We had a really awful week the second week of school that just didn't ever feel right for him or for me. Was it the specific school? Was it too long away from me too many days a week? Was it just a transition? It all felt so uncertain and unsettled. I talked to many of my wise friends who encouraged me to listen to my intuition on this one- that I knew what he needed. We are connected to each other and my discomfort with this transition went beyond the feelings of a mother who was separating from her "baby." This means that action is needed.
One week ago today, after Josh had a brief illness and missed the days of school right after Labor Day, I pulled him out of school officially. It didn't go the way that I wanted it to go because I wasn't able to talk to his teacher face-to-face to let her know of my reasons for taking him out. We had had a conversation about the lack of play at the beginning and I had told her that I would do what was in his best interests, even if that meant pulling him out of school. It was interesting for me to stand back and look at the collective communications of my son's behaviors. He stopped eating at school during the day. He was refusing to eat breakfast before he went. This meant that when I picked him up from school, he ate all the contents of his lunch box as soon as he got out of school. He would then eat for the next 2 or 3 hours. When he would finally start playing again, it seemed forced and erratic- not at all like his usual play. Then at night, he had a very difficult time settling down to go to sleep. Then he got sick. And then there was the complaining about going to school. He just didn't want to go. A year of this seemed like torture for everyone. I told him that we were taking him out of school and asked if he wanted to go for the last day. Without hesitation, he said, "No. I'm not going." "Don't you want to say goodbye to your friends?" "No."
OK then.
We started looking at other schools, since he really seemed to want to be with other children and play more than anything else. Monday, we went and visited another private school nearby with a focus on the arts. While they are different than public school in many ways, it seemed like the same general structure to the day: reading time, math time... lots of time in their seats. Josh wouldn't let me leave the entire day, which was at least alright with the teachers and the administration. It was a fun day for me just to see how other schools do things.
We set up a visit with a local Waldorf school on Wednesday. I was prepared to sit with him for the day again, knowing what it had been like for him in public school and even what it was like on Monday.
We arrived at the school and there were children playing outside everywhere. His eyes grew very large with excitement. He had already chosen the tree he wanted to climb when I had to redirect him to the Kindergarten playground. The children were going inside at the time we arrived after their beginning of the day play time and transitioning into the classroom. Josh decided after a few minutes that he wanted to just go join the other children, even though the teacher had told us to take our time and come in when we're ready.
We entered the classroom and it was quiet. We took off our shoes and joined the children in the middle of the room for a circle time. After a verse, a short song, and the lighting and extinguishing of the candle, the children were dismissed for inside play time. Josh stood there as if he hadn't heard, so I bent over to him and whispered that he was now allowed to play. He looked up at me with the happiest eyes, conveying his surprise that it was already play time. Within 30 seconds, he had joined a group of boys on the floor who were playing with little wooden people and a house. He was completely engaged, completely unaware that I was even there.
I stood and watched him playing with the happiness sparkling in his eyes and knew that we were in the right place. The stars had aligned for him and he was truly where he was meant to be. I talked with the teacher who also commented on how engaged he was in his play and with the other boys. After about 5 minutes, we interrupted him to show him around the room and where the bathroom was, especially after his long car ride. After he had gone to the bathroom, I was worried that he would now want me to stay. But he returned immediately to his play and didn't seem to care about whether I was there or not! After another minute, I told him that I was going to go to fill out some papers in the office. I got a half nod of acknowledgment and headed towards the door. Once outside, I stood and waited for a moment to make sure he was OK. But I knew in my heart that he was home, too.
Today was his second day and the drop off was easy again. He came to the door after he had started playing to tell me goodbye and offer me a hug and kiss before I left. Effortless. Transition into Kindergarten should be just like this for all children.
If you haven't read Crisis in the Kindergarten, please take a few minutes and look at it. Published by the Alliance for Childhood, these folks are taking a good hard look at what we're doing in education and what research shows our Kindergarten-age students really need. Something to consider.
One week ago today, after Josh had a brief illness and missed the days of school right after Labor Day, I pulled him out of school officially. It didn't go the way that I wanted it to go because I wasn't able to talk to his teacher face-to-face to let her know of my reasons for taking him out. We had had a conversation about the lack of play at the beginning and I had told her that I would do what was in his best interests, even if that meant pulling him out of school. It was interesting for me to stand back and look at the collective communications of my son's behaviors. He stopped eating at school during the day. He was refusing to eat breakfast before he went. This meant that when I picked him up from school, he ate all the contents of his lunch box as soon as he got out of school. He would then eat for the next 2 or 3 hours. When he would finally start playing again, it seemed forced and erratic- not at all like his usual play. Then at night, he had a very difficult time settling down to go to sleep. Then he got sick. And then there was the complaining about going to school. He just didn't want to go. A year of this seemed like torture for everyone. I told him that we were taking him out of school and asked if he wanted to go for the last day. Without hesitation, he said, "No. I'm not going." "Don't you want to say goodbye to your friends?" "No."
OK then.
We started looking at other schools, since he really seemed to want to be with other children and play more than anything else. Monday, we went and visited another private school nearby with a focus on the arts. While they are different than public school in many ways, it seemed like the same general structure to the day: reading time, math time... lots of time in their seats. Josh wouldn't let me leave the entire day, which was at least alright with the teachers and the administration. It was a fun day for me just to see how other schools do things.
We set up a visit with a local Waldorf school on Wednesday. I was prepared to sit with him for the day again, knowing what it had been like for him in public school and even what it was like on Monday.
We arrived at the school and there were children playing outside everywhere. His eyes grew very large with excitement. He had already chosen the tree he wanted to climb when I had to redirect him to the Kindergarten playground. The children were going inside at the time we arrived after their beginning of the day play time and transitioning into the classroom. Josh decided after a few minutes that he wanted to just go join the other children, even though the teacher had told us to take our time and come in when we're ready.
We entered the classroom and it was quiet. We took off our shoes and joined the children in the middle of the room for a circle time. After a verse, a short song, and the lighting and extinguishing of the candle, the children were dismissed for inside play time. Josh stood there as if he hadn't heard, so I bent over to him and whispered that he was now allowed to play. He looked up at me with the happiest eyes, conveying his surprise that it was already play time. Within 30 seconds, he had joined a group of boys on the floor who were playing with little wooden people and a house. He was completely engaged, completely unaware that I was even there.
I stood and watched him playing with the happiness sparkling in his eyes and knew that we were in the right place. The stars had aligned for him and he was truly where he was meant to be. I talked with the teacher who also commented on how engaged he was in his play and with the other boys. After about 5 minutes, we interrupted him to show him around the room and where the bathroom was, especially after his long car ride. After he had gone to the bathroom, I was worried that he would now want me to stay. But he returned immediately to his play and didn't seem to care about whether I was there or not! After another minute, I told him that I was going to go to fill out some papers in the office. I got a half nod of acknowledgment and headed towards the door. Once outside, I stood and waited for a moment to make sure he was OK. But I knew in my heart that he was home, too.
Today was his second day and the drop off was easy again. He came to the door after he had started playing to tell me goodbye and offer me a hug and kiss before I left. Effortless. Transition into Kindergarten should be just like this for all children.
If you haven't read Crisis in the Kindergarten, please take a few minutes and look at it. Published by the Alliance for Childhood, these folks are taking a good hard look at what we're doing in education and what research shows our Kindergarten-age students really need. Something to consider.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
First Week of Kindergarten Confessions
I admit that I was surprised when I picked my son up after his first day of school and he was upset. Really upset. I didn't know what it was about. I had been standing out by the letter "F", our designated pick-up point with the herd of other anxious Kindergarten parents, when I saw him come out of the front door of the school in a line of other adorable and tired looking 5 year-olds. Immediately, he ran to me. And just as quickly, the teacher reached down and tried to move him back toward the wall. I understand why they did it. They need to keep order in the midst of the afternoon chaos. They have to keep track of all of those kids! I would be upset if they lost him. So, I do understand that. Really, I do. But my 5 year old... well, let's just say that he didn't. It was the end of a very long day away from me and he was done. It was time to be with mom now and there was no logic that could change that.
As the teacher moved him away from me, he burst into tears. The first thing out of his mouth was, "I don't ever want to go here again. Ever." I held him and just listened to his feelings. Thoughts spun around in my head: was the whole day like this or was it just the last few minutes. He cried and I held him, refraining from launching into the series of questions that were heavy on my own mind. The next thing he said was, "I didn't even get a snack. I didn't want what was in my lunch." Oh, I thought. Was there more that happened during this first day of school than what I had observed? I held my judgment, knowing that he was upset and needed to just work through his own feelings before I tried to talk more about it.
As he began to settle down, we were able to walk to the car and start talking about what my two boys wanted to do to celebrate the completion of the first day of school. We decided upon a buffet. As everyone settled into their seats, my older son asked Josh if he wanted to go back to school tomorrow. I held my breath, wishing that he hadn't asked that question, knowing he really didn't have that choice, yet secretly glad that he asked it. He hesitated, then responded: "If you ask me if I'm going back, I will always say... YES!"
What?
He had a good day. He stayed on a green light (not my green stoplight kind of green referring to a state of calm, but the school version of not being bad sort of green light, which of course is really about being able to stay calm and regulated anyway... it just isn't used that way- yet.) and he had enjoyed his first day.
Huh.
I was relieved that it had been a good day for him. But secretly, I think I was hoping it would be cut and dried that it wouldn't work. That I wouldn't have to go through the days and weeks and months of trying to keep him motivated to go to public school when I believe there are better choices that are more in alignment with my own beliefs about what young children should be doing with their time.
Day 1, I thought. It is only the first day. 179 more to go.
Every day this week, I started to see signs of protest. Tuesday, he half-heartedly said, "I don't want to go," as he proceeded to get himself dressed and put on his shoes. His actions weren't congruent. It was almost like he thought he was supposed to complain.
Wednesday, he was a bit more insistent that he didn't want to go. He got himself dressed, but refused to put on his shoes. But he got willingly into the car. I put his shoes on him while I told him a story when we had arrived at the school. This was the first day I left him at the door to the outside of the school and his brother walked him to class. (Well, actually, Josh knew the way, so Zack followed him to make sure he found it OK.)
Thursday, he didn't want to get dressed. Or eat breakfast. He was playing. It took Zack magic to get him excited about going. Yes, today was PE day and he had looked forward to this after hearing his big brother talk about it all last year. He got dressed with my help and we made it to school. Thursday was the day at pick up that Josh was totally escalated into a red light brain state (survival- fight, flight, or freeze) when the teacher tried to physically put him back on the wall.
Friday, he point blank refused to go. "There are too many rules," he said at my prompting. "I can't even get out of my seat." My older son and I worked together and eventually got him dressed and into the car. When we reached the front door to the school, he refused to go in. The teacher at the door tried to help and suggested that there was an oatmeal cookie for breakfast today. It wasn't on his diet (he has some dental issues going on), but at that point I told him he could have it today. He may have no teeth left when this is all over, but he will have gone to public school Kindergarten. It all just seems wrong somehow. Why is getting him to go in more important than anything else right now?
Granted, he seems to have a good time once he is there. And I'm glad for this. Last year, he had a brief time in Pre-K and he didn't like it. I didn't see the point in forcing the issue, so I didn't and pulled him out again to be home with me. It was a very good decision for him. It was what he needed. This year, I think he has a much better teacher who is kind and respectful. He is making friends. He smiles when he talks about school, except for the drop off part. And being away from me, which is very hard for him.
I don't know what next week will bring, but probably more questions than answers as we feel our way through this huge transition. Whether you are homeschooling and starting school now or transitioning to a program away from home, school is a transition for everyone. How is everyone doing right now?
As the teacher moved him away from me, he burst into tears. The first thing out of his mouth was, "I don't ever want to go here again. Ever." I held him and just listened to his feelings. Thoughts spun around in my head: was the whole day like this or was it just the last few minutes. He cried and I held him, refraining from launching into the series of questions that were heavy on my own mind. The next thing he said was, "I didn't even get a snack. I didn't want what was in my lunch." Oh, I thought. Was there more that happened during this first day of school than what I had observed? I held my judgment, knowing that he was upset and needed to just work through his own feelings before I tried to talk more about it.
As he began to settle down, we were able to walk to the car and start talking about what my two boys wanted to do to celebrate the completion of the first day of school. We decided upon a buffet. As everyone settled into their seats, my older son asked Josh if he wanted to go back to school tomorrow. I held my breath, wishing that he hadn't asked that question, knowing he really didn't have that choice, yet secretly glad that he asked it. He hesitated, then responded: "If you ask me if I'm going back, I will always say... YES!"
What?
He had a good day. He stayed on a green light (not my green stoplight kind of green referring to a state of calm, but the school version of not being bad sort of green light, which of course is really about being able to stay calm and regulated anyway... it just isn't used that way- yet.) and he had enjoyed his first day.
Huh.
I was relieved that it had been a good day for him. But secretly, I think I was hoping it would be cut and dried that it wouldn't work. That I wouldn't have to go through the days and weeks and months of trying to keep him motivated to go to public school when I believe there are better choices that are more in alignment with my own beliefs about what young children should be doing with their time.
Day 1, I thought. It is only the first day. 179 more to go.
Every day this week, I started to see signs of protest. Tuesday, he half-heartedly said, "I don't want to go," as he proceeded to get himself dressed and put on his shoes. His actions weren't congruent. It was almost like he thought he was supposed to complain.
Wednesday, he was a bit more insistent that he didn't want to go. He got himself dressed, but refused to put on his shoes. But he got willingly into the car. I put his shoes on him while I told him a story when we had arrived at the school. This was the first day I left him at the door to the outside of the school and his brother walked him to class. (Well, actually, Josh knew the way, so Zack followed him to make sure he found it OK.)
Thursday, he didn't want to get dressed. Or eat breakfast. He was playing. It took Zack magic to get him excited about going. Yes, today was PE day and he had looked forward to this after hearing his big brother talk about it all last year. He got dressed with my help and we made it to school. Thursday was the day at pick up that Josh was totally escalated into a red light brain state (survival- fight, flight, or freeze) when the teacher tried to physically put him back on the wall.
Friday, he point blank refused to go. "There are too many rules," he said at my prompting. "I can't even get out of my seat." My older son and I worked together and eventually got him dressed and into the car. When we reached the front door to the school, he refused to go in. The teacher at the door tried to help and suggested that there was an oatmeal cookie for breakfast today. It wasn't on his diet (he has some dental issues going on), but at that point I told him he could have it today. He may have no teeth left when this is all over, but he will have gone to public school Kindergarten. It all just seems wrong somehow. Why is getting him to go in more important than anything else right now?
Granted, he seems to have a good time once he is there. And I'm glad for this. Last year, he had a brief time in Pre-K and he didn't like it. I didn't see the point in forcing the issue, so I didn't and pulled him out again to be home with me. It was a very good decision for him. It was what he needed. This year, I think he has a much better teacher who is kind and respectful. He is making friends. He smiles when he talks about school, except for the drop off part. And being away from me, which is very hard for him.
I don't know what next week will bring, but probably more questions than answers as we feel our way through this huge transition. Whether you are homeschooling and starting school now or transitioning to a program away from home, school is a transition for everyone. How is everyone doing right now?
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Reflections of a new Kindergarten Parent
Tomorrow my baby will be starting Kindergarten. I've known this day would come since he was an infant and his older brother went off to school for the first time. I suppose that is what comes to mind when I think of Kindergarten and the first day, since I don't really remember my own first day of Kindergarten. I was only 4 when I went away to school for the first time, since the state I lived in required children were 5 by the end of the year to start. But I was ready for the playing, the singing, the coloring, the stories... I remember my teacher, Ms. Hart. How could you go wrong with a Kindergarten teacher with that name?
Fast forward to when my older son went to school. I had been planning to homeschool him. After retiring as an elementary school teacher forever even before my oldest was thought of, I really didn't plan to send him. But my husband, who had staying in education, had different ideas. When my son Zack started asking to go to school, I felt I needed to give him the opportunity to try it out. We enrolled him and I chose his teacher because he had connected with her during the "testing" process to see what he already knew going into school. Before school even started, he had changed his mind and decided that he didn't want to go anymore. But we were committed now and it felt like there was no going back.
That first day was so hard... for ME! My husband went with me to drop him off, our 9 month old in tow in his sling. After our tearful goodbye at the door, my husband and I walked away hand in hand and cried some more before my husband went off to work and I went home to our quiet house with only my baby. I missed Zack terribly! We had been connected since the day he was born- before really- and we had never really been away from each other. Especially not for so many hours.
As the days and weeks passed and we went through many painful goodbyes at the door to his classroom, I began to wonder why I was doing this. I stayed true to my commitment to not throw him into the classroom crying as I had seen other parents do. I would stay until he was ready for me to leave. When he was ready, he would give me a nod and the baby and I would head home. Some days were easier than others. Some were painful from the moment his eyes opened. But his teacher was caring and always did her best to reach out to us, supporting us when she could.
So we stayed. He learned how to write and he was reading before the end of the year. His math was way ahead. But he wasn't really happy. Finally the year came to a close and summer arrived. It took a long time before he really relaxed into summer and back into the rhythm of our family's life. I started to really feel connected to him again as it drew nearer to the time that school was to begin again. That was when I felt it: a strong urge to keep him home with me. I brought it up, but it wasn't really an option. It was suggested that we just give it a try. He'll be fine.
School started again and with it came chaos. He was fine at school- a model student. But at home, it was a nightmare. He would have temper tantrums for 2-3 hours most nights. I couldn't figure it out, so I went in to observe. I was horrified to see only about 5 minutes of direct instruction during a 3 hour time block! Clearly I could do better myself.
I took my case back home to my husband and we explored our options. We finally decided that the best choice was to bring him home to homeschool, so that's what we did. Once he was home, he started to relax more and to begin to enjoy life again. But I found it curious that he was refusing to read and refusing to write. I knew it wasn't important and that eventually he would be willing to read and write again. And I was right- now he is writing very well and reading way above grade level. So what did his Kindergarten experience really do to him? He was "ready" to read and write according to the experts at the school, but was he really ready for all of that pressure? Was he ready to abandon his need to play and to be close to me or did we push him too hard, too fast? It took a lot of time and patience to undo the damage.
Now Zack willingly goes to school. Actually, he loves it. He couldn't wait to get back to it. Would he have felt that way without the break? I don't think so. He is ready for that sort of pressure now and actually enjoys it in a way that I don't think I ever really did. I'm just glad to see that he's happy after all that we went through.
So tomorrow, I start this school journey with my youngest son, Josh. I must admit, I am reluctant after my experience with his older brother. I am also very concerned about the lack of unstructured playtime in Kindergarten. After an exhaustive search, I've found the majority of schools near me are similar: early academics are the rule, rather than the exception. What happened to play? What happened to the play house and the dress up station? Painting and circle time? They seem to be casualties of this push to make our children do better on state testing.
But we're missing the point. We're missing the point that children's work is play and that there is no more powerful way to teach a child than to respect the way children learn best at the age of 5 and 6. Children who are pushed too hard, too fast, too early are more likely to diagnosed with learning problems that wouldn't exist if we simply gave them time to develop at their own pace. Teachers have also told me that they are seeing many more discipline problems than in the past, probably because Kindergarten children are facing 5 hours of academics per day with no time to play out the stress in unstructured playtime. Yes, that's right. Kindergarteners. Can you pay attention for 5 hours without a good long break to de-stress? I can't.
Teachers aren't to blame. They're all upset about it, too. When I spoke with another long-time Kindergarten teacher last year, she told me that she had finally decided to get rid of the play house in her classroom. She said with pain in her own eyes that it was just too difficult for them to look at it and not be able to play in it every day. Another Pre-K teacher said that Kindergarten teachers are giving away huge sets of very expensive wooden blocks because they don't have time to use them anymore. Something is wrong with this picture. Since when have children lost the need to play?
With all the stress in our society today, children's need for play is greater than ever. Yet, there is less and less time for this critically important activity. School days are planned down to the minute of every day and then most children are involved in other outside structured activities once they leave school. Homework and dinner round out the evening, then bedtime before we do it all over again.
I'll keep writing on this topic and share how things unfold for us this time around, along with my own attempts to make some changes within the system. I'll also work to provide the time and space for that much needed playtime for my own children and share what works for me this time. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this topic as well.
Fast forward to when my older son went to school. I had been planning to homeschool him. After retiring as an elementary school teacher forever even before my oldest was thought of, I really didn't plan to send him. But my husband, who had staying in education, had different ideas. When my son Zack started asking to go to school, I felt I needed to give him the opportunity to try it out. We enrolled him and I chose his teacher because he had connected with her during the "testing" process to see what he already knew going into school. Before school even started, he had changed his mind and decided that he didn't want to go anymore. But we were committed now and it felt like there was no going back.
That first day was so hard... for ME! My husband went with me to drop him off, our 9 month old in tow in his sling. After our tearful goodbye at the door, my husband and I walked away hand in hand and cried some more before my husband went off to work and I went home to our quiet house with only my baby. I missed Zack terribly! We had been connected since the day he was born- before really- and we had never really been away from each other. Especially not for so many hours.
As the days and weeks passed and we went through many painful goodbyes at the door to his classroom, I began to wonder why I was doing this. I stayed true to my commitment to not throw him into the classroom crying as I had seen other parents do. I would stay until he was ready for me to leave. When he was ready, he would give me a nod and the baby and I would head home. Some days were easier than others. Some were painful from the moment his eyes opened. But his teacher was caring and always did her best to reach out to us, supporting us when she could.
So we stayed. He learned how to write and he was reading before the end of the year. His math was way ahead. But he wasn't really happy. Finally the year came to a close and summer arrived. It took a long time before he really relaxed into summer and back into the rhythm of our family's life. I started to really feel connected to him again as it drew nearer to the time that school was to begin again. That was when I felt it: a strong urge to keep him home with me. I brought it up, but it wasn't really an option. It was suggested that we just give it a try. He'll be fine.
School started again and with it came chaos. He was fine at school- a model student. But at home, it was a nightmare. He would have temper tantrums for 2-3 hours most nights. I couldn't figure it out, so I went in to observe. I was horrified to see only about 5 minutes of direct instruction during a 3 hour time block! Clearly I could do better myself.
I took my case back home to my husband and we explored our options. We finally decided that the best choice was to bring him home to homeschool, so that's what we did. Once he was home, he started to relax more and to begin to enjoy life again. But I found it curious that he was refusing to read and refusing to write. I knew it wasn't important and that eventually he would be willing to read and write again. And I was right- now he is writing very well and reading way above grade level. So what did his Kindergarten experience really do to him? He was "ready" to read and write according to the experts at the school, but was he really ready for all of that pressure? Was he ready to abandon his need to play and to be close to me or did we push him too hard, too fast? It took a lot of time and patience to undo the damage.
Now Zack willingly goes to school. Actually, he loves it. He couldn't wait to get back to it. Would he have felt that way without the break? I don't think so. He is ready for that sort of pressure now and actually enjoys it in a way that I don't think I ever really did. I'm just glad to see that he's happy after all that we went through.
So tomorrow, I start this school journey with my youngest son, Josh. I must admit, I am reluctant after my experience with his older brother. I am also very concerned about the lack of unstructured playtime in Kindergarten. After an exhaustive search, I've found the majority of schools near me are similar: early academics are the rule, rather than the exception. What happened to play? What happened to the play house and the dress up station? Painting and circle time? They seem to be casualties of this push to make our children do better on state testing.
But we're missing the point. We're missing the point that children's work is play and that there is no more powerful way to teach a child than to respect the way children learn best at the age of 5 and 6. Children who are pushed too hard, too fast, too early are more likely to diagnosed with learning problems that wouldn't exist if we simply gave them time to develop at their own pace. Teachers have also told me that they are seeing many more discipline problems than in the past, probably because Kindergarten children are facing 5 hours of academics per day with no time to play out the stress in unstructured playtime. Yes, that's right. Kindergarteners. Can you pay attention for 5 hours without a good long break to de-stress? I can't.
Teachers aren't to blame. They're all upset about it, too. When I spoke with another long-time Kindergarten teacher last year, she told me that she had finally decided to get rid of the play house in her classroom. She said with pain in her own eyes that it was just too difficult for them to look at it and not be able to play in it every day. Another Pre-K teacher said that Kindergarten teachers are giving away huge sets of very expensive wooden blocks because they don't have time to use them anymore. Something is wrong with this picture. Since when have children lost the need to play?
With all the stress in our society today, children's need for play is greater than ever. Yet, there is less and less time for this critically important activity. School days are planned down to the minute of every day and then most children are involved in other outside structured activities once they leave school. Homework and dinner round out the evening, then bedtime before we do it all over again.
I'll keep writing on this topic and share how things unfold for us this time around, along with my own attempts to make some changes within the system. I'll also work to provide the time and space for that much needed playtime for my own children and share what works for me this time. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this topic as well.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)