Kids scare me, the little ones the most.
I usually treat them like shrunken adults, but that never seems to work out well. They don’t understand my use of sarcasm and stare at me with a mixture of annoyance and fear. I am destined to be a great grandmother!
What brings about this self-reflection? My daughter, Tess, worked at Forsyth School’s summer camps again this year. Kids don’t scare her. One of the camps, which I wrote about last year, teaches kids the basics of entertaining, which I love! They learn how to sew and plan a party, including sending invitations, setting the table and preparing food. I was invited again, and it was perfect—except for my behavior. I kept asking the children for things I knew they didn’t have. “Do you have any black olives?” They would check and sadly say, “Sorry, we don’t.” Then I would ask for cherries; same response. I mean, what kind of monster torments children that way? Apparently me. I stopped after Tess gave me ‘the look.’ Anyway, I started thinking about what kind of person can walk into a classroom every day, face those little shrunken adults and teach them.
When I was growing up, I attended Catholic schools. The discipline was handled not with soft words or encouragement, but with a slap on the hand. There was no parent-teacher communication unless you were in big trouble. Now, it’s completely different. Teachers not only have to focus on the kids, they also have to keep in touch with each parent … and make sure their classes perform well in statewide testing.
So, I ask you, who would want that kind of job? Well, thankfully for us and our kids, some pretty amazing people. I can count on one hand the number of teachers my two children had that were not very good. Both of my children can read, write and use math skills that I no longer can. Both turned out to be great people, even with a mother who treated them like shrunken adults their entire lives. So, this year, at back-to-school meetings and functions, when you sit in your child’s desk that is too small and listen to the teachers talk about plans for the year, please be grateful. Because without them, you might end up with someone like me in front of the classroom (and just think about the damage I could do). Teachers, thank you for not being scared of the shrunken adults, and knowing how to treat them like children. You do matter even though we might not tell you often enough. And to all the teachers who taught my children, I thank you. I know at times I might have been a little crazy, but I always appreciated the job you did.
* If Sept. 16 is free on your calendar, consider taking part in FARE’s Food Allergy Heroes Walk. Last year, I told you about MICDS student Ally Kalishman, who is responsible for publicizing this event, in part because of her own allergies. I was stunned to learn that one in 13 children have a food allergy, and FARE (Food Allergy Research Education) raises money for research. Check it out at fare.foodallergy.org.
Contact Patty at Phannum@townandstyle.com.
