I gave birth, blinked through some blurry, exhausting, albeit hilarious, toddler years and woke up one day to this 5-year-old little person sharing my space and my food. And despite constant nudges from friendly mom-ager types to get her an agent and put her to work (I live in Los Angeles), I have decided to dodge the pretty baby draft and let her live rent-free to focus on childhood and school… for now, at least.
A couple of years ago, we transitioned smoothly from days at home with a nighttime-working mommy, to an extended day at preschool with a full-time, day-job working mommy. My commute is about three hours round-trip, which means we both had to adjust to not only teachers but also nannies joining the village that has been so vital to my daughter’s development and my sanity. Realistically, they spend more time with her now than I do. While I would definitely say that I’m on the low end of the overprotective scale, that’s a lot of new influences to help my daughter process and filter.
Now, just when I was finally putting some faces to names to get her out to a playdate or two, it’s time to prepare for an even bigger transition and a whole new set of names, hands, hearts and ideas: it’s time for real school.
“Where are you looking for kindergarten?”
It’s a question I get on a fairly consistent basis lately, and one I honestly hadn’t given a second thought to before this year. I’ve learned quickly that your top choice for kindergarten is a discussion that can rival politics and religion, and is often best curbed with a joke about general confusion.
Still, the thought of this pending decision has had me researching, cross-referencing and engaging in heated friendly debates; ultimately, I worry myself into a stress migraine quickly followed by an evening glass of mommy juice and a “best leave it to another day” attitude.
Case in point, a couple of weekends ago, a mom friend who has been doing her best to check in with me throughout this process was lamenting over having a full calendar of applications, walk-throughs and interviews. She asked how things were going for me and I told the truth: I’ve been to one school. She gave me something of a disapproving scowl and reminded me that the clock was ticking.
“When did the kinder timeline start to mirror college? … Interviews? Really?” I wondered aloud, I’ll admit, with a scowl of my own…
No one should see their first interview at age 4. What does one even ask a 4-year-old to determine his or her eligibility to learn their ABC’s? Now, it should be mentioned that my parenting philosophy is strongly rooted in my mother’s solid African upbringing, and I am not easily swayed, but I listened intently to my mom friend’s justification of the strategy behind measuring aptitudes, screening learning styles and dissecting home cultures in order to fill up classes. The goal seems to be not diversity and balance, but ultimately, an extremely intricate process of curating the classroom — an attempt to design the perfect learning environment.
I’ve long believed that kindergarten and elementary school, at their core, serve to socialize, discipline and introduce basic skills and information. Is that still true?
What is the new mandate of kindergarten? Maybe it’s nostalgia talking, but I went to public school. Most people I know went to public school. Private and Catholic schools were the alternatives I remember, and were specific choices for people with means and/or religious affiliations, of which my family had neither. I know the system has changed some. I know there are fewer activities, less time, less teachers no money and more standards, but how do the public schools bounce back if funding, support, and community involvement is deliberately being funneled elsewhere?
Most importantly, how does the child who comes from a carefully crafted learning environment cope with life’s curve balls? Who is being filtered from the ideal kindergarten classroom in this super-selective environment? Doesn’t this approach dilute the grab bag of human experience?
Sure, my memories from that time have faded some, but I know there is something to be said for early encounters with bullies, slow learners, socially awkward kids, and most importantly, cultural and socioeconomic diversity. How will you know your own character if it is not tested in a gumbo pot of upbringings and personalities? If you’ve never brushed up against and had to resolve and continue to work with and engage people whose wiring conflicts with yours, how will you know what you’re truly made of? How will you test your will, your fight, and your ability to stay true to who you are and what you believe about the world around you?
Though there is some maternal anxiety with every new decision, I chose her current preschool, her third so far, mostly on the basis of convenience and instinct. It’s a few blocks up the street in my working-class neighborhood and run by two sisters whose dad does the maintenance and helps care for two adorable gardens in the courtyard and Mom does all the cooking for the littles. My daughter loves her little community, and I feel confident about her experience there both academically and socially. It has proven to be a warm, friendly, well-organized facility with a clear curriculum and mandate with a super-engaged staff.
I hope to find a kindergarten that feels the same way.
No matter where we end up, I am a firm believer that my job is not to protect her from the world nor to design her path, but to help her determine how to make fuel out of anything, how to spot a snake and how to find her way through any terrain.
