I knew his day was going to be different. I knew that his day was going to be harder than most because ever since he died in utero we tried our best to make it so he never knew a day alone. It was already heart wrenching that I didn’t get to meet him until the 4th day of his life. That will forever wear as heavy as one can imagine on my heart and soul.
The day started as I had thought. Getting him out of bed was short of the greatest task sent from above. He is not a morning person so I knew this was a problem never forget the husband leering in the shadows with his anxiety and sometimes rage. I wanted him to love school as much I did in the beginning. Before the bad man in my dreams came to life and took everything away.
Gathering around the playground was all these nervous children so I tried my best to get all those butterflies to go away. I think it was obvious the children and parents who were there for the first time so I engaged in a little idle chit chat to see if I can help melt away a little bit of the ice. I did meet some of his classmates and the mothers that were coming to drop them off. I took the time to introduce them to each other as I thought that would be something incredibly important to do.
At 11:30 the phone call came that Slade was upset and he needed to see me. I imagined that this call would come but I had no idea as to the reasons why. I just assumed that he would miss us and want to go home but that was not the case. Through is anguished tears and heart break he cried, “Why, mummy, why did they take us into the room with the balls, why?”.
That was news to me that they were going to be leaving the classroom. I mean when I was in kindergarten we all kinda sat in the same place. As soon as the parents left our babies were handed off to a new, strange teacher, where they were told to throw balls at each other and rip them out of each others hands. Dodge ball. I don’t know about you but my son has no idea what this game even is and instead of being fun it was completely traumatic too.
So imagine that fear of just wanting friends and having them throw a ball at your head instead? When I asked about this to the teacher assistant she told me that this was a common experience for our children to have. Wait a second? Its common that this is the first thing you do? Whip balls at their head? With children that they don’t even know because I am sure there was no time for intro’s or for children to even share their names.
I would be ok with their explanation that my son wasn’t ready for such aggressive play but this is so asinine that I was trying to control all my resent for such a place that would do such things to my sweet, precious boy. I wish I could tell you it ended there but after such aggressive play they were then seated in a dark room where all eyes were fixated on a giant computer board. My first instinct was where the hell is Cameron Diaz, I remember bad teacher. How can there first day be spent in so much darkness this isn’t how I wanted my son to learn or even play!!
I had sent an email prior mentioning to them that my son was a preemie and was still only 4 years old. You could see how these children towered over him and how he was just a little anxious being the smallest in their world. When he told me that they were snatching things out of his hands I knew it was always going to be this way. He was always going to be the smallest in the room and he was never going to be invited anywhere to play.
Inside I was screaming because I entrusted these people with my little boy. All I could think about is don’t you dare break his spirit because if you do that I can’t promise what will become of this world. The nonchalant attitude of this teacher assistant made me want to tell her never to get near my son again. If you could excuse away piss poor behaviour by covering up what really happened let me tell you I will always believe the words and fear over my son.
They weren’t telling me that he wasn’t welcome back but I had a flash of what his school career was going to look like. He was always going to be the smallest with the most potential to be picked on and that would never change no matter how much anger I truly felt. In talking with the learning coordinator he asked me if I was still interested in pre-k as my son was still eligible based on his age. Knowing what I know about pre-k I can tell you that is the right place for him to truly be. I just hope that in the morning that he gets up the courage to go.
The idea is they learn through interaction and play, working on their social skills instead of jumping into traditional learning. You know the learning of ABC’s and counting to 10. I mean I am sure they will learn something more than how to rip the ball out of each other’s hands or throw it at each others heads but I don’t think I can handle a school that justifies play in this way by telling me that my son is going to be ridiculed for his size if we continue keeping him that class. Can you imagine? These are supposed to be his peers but I am already told just how different he is and that was only his first day!! How am I ever going to survive 12 years of this Educational hell that we are forced to put our kids in?