Last evening, we had some conversations going on the family What’sApp that started with yesterday’s ridiculous Wordle. Rachel included a pic of the kids first day of school and at one point, Sarah chimed in with a late entry for a back to school memory.
First off, let me tell you, I love asking my family questions like this and their first response answers. It is interesting to hear not only what they remember but how they remember it.
Sarah’s entry had to do with her first day of moving up to do junior high math as an elementary student and that was, in her own word and with all caps…TERRIFIED.
Rachel chimed right back with: Oh gosh! Same!!!
I remember well how both girls, and later John, got the dubious privilege of doing extra math in fifth grade so that in sixth grade they could begin the junior high curriculum.
Our children, were transported by parents to the junior high for the class and then back to the grade school for the rest of the day.
Believe it or not, I had done same as a grade school student, but we remained in our grade school for the math class. All it did for me was propel me into an earlier high school understanding that you can actually pass math classes without actually comprehending a single thing you supposedly learned.
But I digress.
This is about Sarah’s memory and apparently shared with her sister. Because it reminds me that as much as I loved school, there are aspects of it that do cause young children terror.
There are situations that occur socially, there is the overwhelm of work required, there are relationship glitches with teachers at times and there are hormones and lack of experience on which to deal with troubles.
And so I am reminded that many nights it was hard for me to fall asleep and there were days when I was afraid of failure or conflict or any number of things that can happen when you throw a whole bunch of kids from different backgrounds, walks of life and levels of learning skills into rooms and expect them to sit still and listen and cope.
I am also digging back in my mom memory and wondering if I gave the girls the support they needed. I hope I did. I hope I saw the anxiety and I hope I addressed it well for them. If I did, or if I didn’t, I look at them today and think they sure conquered their fears and succeeded. All three of them.
In spite of me, or with my help, they did it and did it well. Even if one of them wore a Homer Simpson shirt to his first day of school.