Kindergarten is a harrowing experience for all. The kids are fresh, untouched by the public education scene. They're wide eyed and a combination of excited and scared spitless. The parents, if they don't already have older kids, have never experienced the whole school system thing since they themselves were children, and even then don't know what it's like as a parent. So I'm sure it takes a special kind of teacher to take on kindergarten. You can't have unrealistic expectations with kindergartners, or their parents. It's like my issues with pediatric nurses. If you can't deal with the frazzled newbie parents, then you have no business doing that job.
My baby girl turned 5 this year. You know, the baby this blog was all about trying to have in the beginning? Our journey to this point with Sabina has been far longer than a mere 5 years. We've had hopes and dreams for her for more like 15 years as we struggled to have a baby, then marveled at her surprise conception, battled through the terrifying pregnancy (would I make it to the end?) and then jumped head first into parenting with all the signs of your average over protective helicopter parents. And rightly so! She is our miracle baby! As a full time mom, I have watched over her every step and development for the last 5 years of her life. I nursed her to sleep every night for 3.5 years, never leaving her side. She never slept without Mommy beside her. Friends and family thought I was crazy that I never took a "much needed Mom's night out" and left her with a babysitter. I wouldn't do it. I didn't want to. There was never any other place I'd rather be than by my daughter's side.
The first day of school came all too quickly for us. It couldn't come fast enough for Sabina. She was begging us to take her to school since the last day of preschool at the start of summer. We didn't enroll her into traditional preschool. I chose to "homeschool" her through her preschool years until last spring when we decided to enroll her into a kindergarten prep class for the last two months of the school year. I simply don't believe preschool is a necessary part of schooling, especially at such young ages as 2 & 3! Sabina was 4 years old, rapidly approaching 5, and we felt she would benefit from a little introduction to going to school with other kids and teachers, etc. It was two days a week, and she loved it! For us, though, it was just another reminder of how fast kindergarten was approaching. We were busy researching the crap out of schools, weighing the pros and cons of every option out there. Any old school wasn't going to cut it for our baby girl. She deserved far better than your average public school, which I wanted no part of. Not only have I been to public schools, but I've read far too much on the subject of public education to at least be weary of it, but more likely staunchly against it altogether. I wanted her to go to a private Montessori school, and I researched each one in our area. They were perfect for our lifestyle. It was everything we believed in and more. But who could afford $1100 a month tuition? Then only to double that in 4 years when Tristan starts kindergarten?! It was heartbreaking. So, we bucked up and decided that if we couldn't do private school, the least we could do was find a highly rated public school and transfer Sabina there, since the school she was assigned just so happens to be the WORST rated school within a two district radius. There was NO WAY we were going to send her there! We searched and loved the amazing 9 rating elementary school just a couple blocks from my husband's work in the next town. We were immediately turned down when we inquired, because already by January of the previous school year, they stopped accepting transfer requests for this year. So, because that school was outside our district, we turned to another good rated school within our district, but on the district website was a letter of doom. Because of overcrowding in elementary schools, no transfer requests will be honored this year. That was it. The moment we had to decide if we could stomach sending her to the worst rated elementary school in a two district radius, or should we just homeschool her? After talking it over with several people and ultimately with ourselves, we decided to give the school a shot. Maybe she'd have an amazing teacher who could balance out all the negative reviews and ratings this school had. We hoped hard all the way to that first day of school.
Registration hadn't been the best experience, due to the fact that we had to submit an exemption form for Sabina's "required" vaccinations. The woman at the desk hadn't been the most pleasant. "You can't do that," she kept saying over and over, pursing her lips at us as we stared wide-eyed at her with registration paperwork in hand. She was referring to the fact that we couldn't register Sabina until they had proof of her vaccinations. We had filled out every part of the paperwork except for the vaccine portion because we had yet to get Sabina to her doctor appointment that wasn't scheduled until the first week of July, after which the school office would be closed for the summer. Whether she would be vaccinated or not, we still could not provide this information until after the appointment. We left, then came back another day to meet with a different woman who actually dealt with registration, and she was much more understanding, offering to put a note on Sabina's file that we would be getting her exemption form over the summer and told us to fax it, which we ultimately did. Two weeks into Sabina's kindergarten year, we got a call from the school nurse saying she wasn't up to date with her vaccinations, and that we needed to submit proof before the end of the month or she would be expelled. Obviously, they never got the faxed exemption form over the summer. We faxed it again.
Wracked with nerves, we attended the "sneak peek" of Sabina's kindergarten class. The teachers were overly nice, and seemed pleasant and welcoming, and we were feeling a little better by the next day when we would be joining Sabina on her first official day of school for orientation. The circle drive at the school was packed, and so were all the parking spaces. It was nearing 9:00, and school starts at 9:05, so I told Mike just to drop me and Sabina off at the curb, like several other parents were doing, and he could find a parking spot and then come meet us. I stepped out after several minutes of us just idling in the same spot. No car was moving, and I didn't want her to be late on the first darn day! Stepping onto the sidewalk with Sabina in hand bouncing happily beside me, proudly sporting her brand new pink Peppa Pig backpack, I startled as a woman in a bright orange & yellow vest started shouting across the way at me. "You can't get out there! You have to wait until you get to the crosswalk!" What?? "Okay, well I just wanted her to be on time!" I shouted back, turning my back to her and walking Sabina to the school. What the heck kind of dumb rule is that? Wait until you get to the crosswalk? For what reason? We weren't crossing a road, we were stepping out directly onto the sidewalk! That means every car has to wait for the car in front of them to drop off their kid before they can drop theirs off, one by one!? Besides, way over by the crosswalk she was referring to that led to the parking lot, was quite a distance from the front of the school. It would make a whole lot more sense to drop kids off closer to the front of the school where you could watch them walk in, rather than way over on the farthest side of the field by the dumpsters! A second circle drive is located in prime real estate directly in the front and center of the school, but it's for buses only. The parent drop off circle is to the side of the bus circle, where they make you drive to the FAR left end (the farthest distance from the school) to drop off AND pick up your kids! It's ludicrous! So, already fuming at that encounter of getting yelled at after barely stepping foot onto the school campus, I walked Sabina through the gate into the courtyard full of shouting students, and made our way over to the kindergarten room. The door was closed, and there were more ladies in orange & yellow vests standing guard to make sure no one passed a certain point before the bell rang. They were keeping the kids corralled in this one courtyard like cattle. It seemed very disturbing to me.
Mike found us inside the classroom after the bell rang and we sat through the chaotically rushed one hour orientation. The teacher seemed nice, but she was an older lady with short salt & pepper gray hair who gave off a hint of impatience for new parents. During the orientation, she had explained that she had two grown children and several grandchildren, and had been teaching for over 20 years. Sounds great at first. I mean, she must know what she's doing by now. But then I began to notice things. Like how set in her ways she'd become. I had secretly been hoping she would have a fresh bubbly new young teacher straight out of college, full of excitement and empathy for all the new parents. It seemed to me that over the years, Sabina's teacher had made a list of all the things new kindergarten parents do and say to her, and then told everyone at orientation her answers to these things rather abruptly. One of which was, "As soon as you drop your child off at the room, it's best if you just turn around and leave, especially if there's tears. They really do much better if you're not there." This piece of advice just hit me the wrong way. The funny thing is that I'd actually heard this before from my own mother who was a preschool teacher. I understand the logic of it. It might make the kid stop crying when you leave, but I still can't agree with it. It's completely insensitive, and extremely hurtful to the parent and especially the child. What the teacher was basically insinuating was that parents are not welcome. She wants them to go away immediately and leave their kids without concern for whether they are emotionally stable or not. This is an emotional time for parents and children alike. Telling parents to walk away and leave their child sobbing with a bunch of strangers is akin to ripping the child out of my arms and having security escort me off campus! That's how it feels! I was an extremely sensitive, shy little girl and I have vivid memories of being left in a new classroom as I was crying for my momma not to leave me. When she left me anyway, I felt betrayed and had nightmares about that for a long time and became even more terrified of being left places by my parents. Oh, and I also developed an enormous hate for school that never went away. Right at that moment, I realized my daughter's teacher did not have any patience left for the new kindergarten parents she encountered year after year.
We soon discovered that the campus in general is not parent friendly at all. On our way out of orientation, we were told to take a look around and familiarize ourselves with the school. Passing the gym, Sabina asked what that was, so we followed a couple other parents inside to show her it's where she would probably play ball or have assemblies, etc. Almost immediately, we were shooed out by a man rushing across the gym floor at us. "You can't be in here! It's closed!" he shouted. This made Sabina cry, as she had seen other kids playing with rubber balls and wanted to play too. Mike had to carry her out to the car as she sobbed. An excellent first day, I muttered to myself, glaring back at the man shooing everyone out of the gym.
The next morning was the actual first day that we had to leave Sabina at school. We parked and walked as a family with her to her room. Just as the previous day, the kids were corralled in the courtyard until the bell rang at 9:05am. The second it sounded, kids took off, bulldozing their way to their classrooms like herds of bison on the open plains of Yellowstone National Park. As we feared, Sabina took off running right after them, and we had to rush after her to stop her before she was trampled by the excited mob of elementary kids, and redirect her back to the line that was forming outside her kindergarten room door. We waited there until the teacher let them inside and we saw that she was safe in her classroom. I noted that we were not alone in this frame of mind, as several other parents were gathered around us outside the kindergarten room. As we were all waving goodbye to our babies, the teacher, without even making eye contact with any of us, shut the door in our faces.
I got a phone call 2 hours later. It was the school nurse. I almost had a heart attack before she told me the reason she was calling. Sabina had apparently wet her pants and they needed me to come bring her clean clothes. I couldn't understand how this had happened. They have bathrooms right in the classroom, and she was made aware of them the previous day and even used it while we were there! Plus, she's been potty trained since she was 2.5 years old! Granted she has had occasions after that where she didn't make it in time, or was too excited and accidentally wet herself. But regardless, she had never once had an accident at her preschool class the previous spring. I wondered if perhaps the bathroom was occupied, or she tried to tell the teacher she had to go and was unheard or told to wait. I had no idea. I decided it must've been first day jitters making her forget, as the school nurse has chalked it up to be. I found Sabina sitting in the office waiting for me. I changed her in the bathroom there and then waited for the nurse to come back. I wasn't sure if they needed to check her out or something before she went back to class. The nurse was clearly busy taking care of several other things at once and told me I could take her back to class because she didn't have time to walk her back herself, so I did. It was just on the other side of the courtyard from the office. When I got there, the room was locked, so I knocked but the class was busy and no one heard me. Just down the walkway at the room next door, I noticed another mom being scolded by one of the infamous ladies in the orange & yellow vests. She was telling her she couldn't peek in the window at her child. "Can't I just--" the mom asked timidly. "NO! You really can't! You cannot look in the windows! Parents have to wait outside the gate!" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. These ladies really were Nazis in orange & yellow vests. They needed swastikas around their arms and they'd be complete! At that moment in thought, she saw me and instantly began yelling at me as though I were an extension of the other mom and had just multiplied in front of her face. "Ma'am, you have to wait outside the gate to pick up! You can't wait at the door!" she yelled, storming toward me like an army official. I half expected her to whip out a cow prod and start shocking me with it. "I'm not picking up, I'm just bringing my daughter back to class." I explained as clearly as I could. She didn't seem to even hear me and just repeated herself as though I were speaking another language. "I'm bringing her back to class. She had an accident and I had to bring her clean clothes. The nurse told me to walk her back to class, so that's what I'm doing." The Nazi glared at me, waiting for me to do something, I guess, then pulled out her ring of master keys. "Oh, is it locked?" she asked, trying to find the right key. Letting Sabina into the room, she turned back to me and AGAIN repeated herself, "Yeah, we don't let parents pick up at the classroom. We have them wait outside the gate." I looked back at her like she had 5 heads. "I understand that, but I wasn't picking her up. I was taking her back to class like the nurse asked me to do. It's her first day and she's only 5 years old. I don't want her walking around campus by herself," I told her sternly as we parted ways, the Nazi woman muttering on about parents waiting outside the gate, bla bla bla.
Just yesterday morning, Mike was dropping Sabina off at school by walking her to class and waiting to see that she gets into her room before leaving, just as we've done regularly for the last two weeks, when one of the Nazi ladies in the orange & yellow vests comes over and addresses the group of parents waiting outside the kindergarten room. "From now on, parents need to sign into the office and get a visitor pass before you can come in here," she told them. When he came home and told me that, I was incensed. So, in order to drop off my daughter at her class, which would normally take about 60 seconds, I have to make a detour to the office, sign my name, time and room I'm visiting into a stupid book, fill out a visitor name tag with the date and stick it on my coat, then take my daughter to her class, drop her off, and walk BACK to the office to sign out?! Who knows how many other parents are going to be waiting in line to do this each morning? What is the point, exactly? It's absurd! Sabina's classroom is like 50 feet from the front gate, so why must I get a visitor pass for 60 seconds?! My daughter has been going to this school for a mere two weeks and I'm already ready to pull her out. The first PTA meeting and the "welcome back" fall garden party is tonight, and I don't even want to go anywhere near it. I wanted to be involved in every aspect of my daughter's school that I could, but I don't even want to interact with anyone there more than I have to now. I don't feel welcomed in the least.
What I want to say to the school principle, the teachers, and the staff at this school, is simply have a heart! Let the new parents be new parents. Let them absorb the fun, joyfulness of the first day of kindergarten. Don't squash their needs to assure that you are going to be there for our children. Until the first day of school, they were our babies! We are cutting the umbilical cords and handing them over to complete strangers to care for during the better part of every day from now on! Show a little respect for the parents that bring you these kids to teach, and understand that it is heart wrenching to hand over your baby to a complete stranger that we are putting all our faith in. I don't appreciate being treated like an unwelcome stranger, or even a visitor. We are PARENTS! We deserve to be able to walk our new 5 year olds to their classrooms everyday as they get used to this routine and idea of school. We deserve to be there just as much as the children do! They are OUR children and you are taking care of them temporarily! Don't make parents feel powerless! Don't treat us like we don't belong there! Remember that each and every year, no matter how many times you've done this, this is still a NEW experience for the students and the parents. We need to feel secure and comforted that our babies will be in good, safe hands, and that they are happy when we leave them. Remember that this is a life experience for both parents and children! You are creating memories that will last a lifetime. It's a sure fire way to start out the new year with a negative first impression by shouting at parents and scolding the children. What are you trying to instill when the first thing a child experiences at their first school ever is an angry woman in an orange & yellow vest shouting at their mommy? Please, to the staff and veteran teachers who've been there for years, look back to your child's first day of school. Remember what it was like. The unfamiliarity, the newness and anxiety, fear and emotions you felt leaving your child in the hands of a strange new teacher. Then go back even further and remember what it was like to BE that new kindergartner on the first day of school, ever. I'm disgusted that this is what we have to endure, that this is what our daughter's school is like. I'm sick at the thought of it, knowing that because we aren't wealthy, we are stuck sending our children through the junior Nazi camp for kids instead of the beautiful Whole Earth Montessori school in the next town, on the right side of the tracks. Really puts you in your place, classicism, once you have to enroll your children into school. I feel like I just signed away my parental rights to the state instead of just starting her in school! I hope for my daughter's sake that she doesn't have a negative memory of her first day of school, but I know for a fact that it's already too late for me. I will unfortunately remember my daughter's first day of school for the rest of my life. And the manner in which I remember it will be all in thanks to that Nazi woman in the orange & yellow vest.
I got a phone call 2 hours later. It was the school nurse. I almost had a heart attack before she told me the reason she was calling. Sabina had apparently wet her pants and they needed me to come bring her clean clothes. I couldn't understand how this had happened. They have bathrooms right in the classroom, and she was made aware of them the previous day and even used it while we were there! Plus, she's been potty trained since she was 2.5 years old! Granted she has had occasions after that where she didn't make it in time, or was too excited and accidentally wet herself. But regardless, she had never once had an accident at her preschool class the previous spring. I wondered if perhaps the bathroom was occupied, or she tried to tell the teacher she had to go and was unheard or told to wait. I had no idea. I decided it must've been first day jitters making her forget, as the school nurse has chalked it up to be. I found Sabina sitting in the office waiting for me. I changed her in the bathroom there and then waited for the nurse to come back. I wasn't sure if they needed to check her out or something before she went back to class. The nurse was clearly busy taking care of several other things at once and told me I could take her back to class because she didn't have time to walk her back herself, so I did. It was just on the other side of the courtyard from the office. When I got there, the room was locked, so I knocked but the class was busy and no one heard me. Just down the walkway at the room next door, I noticed another mom being scolded by one of the infamous ladies in the orange & yellow vests. She was telling her she couldn't peek in the window at her child. "Can't I just--" the mom asked timidly. "NO! You really can't! You cannot look in the windows! Parents have to wait outside the gate!" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. These ladies really were Nazis in orange & yellow vests. They needed swastikas around their arms and they'd be complete! At that moment in thought, she saw me and instantly began yelling at me as though I were an extension of the other mom and had just multiplied in front of her face. "Ma'am, you have to wait outside the gate to pick up! You can't wait at the door!" she yelled, storming toward me like an army official. I half expected her to whip out a cow prod and start shocking me with it. "I'm not picking up, I'm just bringing my daughter back to class." I explained as clearly as I could. She didn't seem to even hear me and just repeated herself as though I were speaking another language. "I'm bringing her back to class. She had an accident and I had to bring her clean clothes. The nurse told me to walk her back to class, so that's what I'm doing." The Nazi glared at me, waiting for me to do something, I guess, then pulled out her ring of master keys. "Oh, is it locked?" she asked, trying to find the right key. Letting Sabina into the room, she turned back to me and AGAIN repeated herself, "Yeah, we don't let parents pick up at the classroom. We have them wait outside the gate." I looked back at her like she had 5 heads. "I understand that, but I wasn't picking her up. I was taking her back to class like the nurse asked me to do. It's her first day and she's only 5 years old. I don't want her walking around campus by herself," I told her sternly as we parted ways, the Nazi woman muttering on about parents waiting outside the gate, bla bla bla.
Just yesterday morning, Mike was dropping Sabina off at school by walking her to class and waiting to see that she gets into her room before leaving, just as we've done regularly for the last two weeks, when one of the Nazi ladies in the orange & yellow vests comes over and addresses the group of parents waiting outside the kindergarten room. "From now on, parents need to sign into the office and get a visitor pass before you can come in here," she told them. When he came home and told me that, I was incensed. So, in order to drop off my daughter at her class, which would normally take about 60 seconds, I have to make a detour to the office, sign my name, time and room I'm visiting into a stupid book, fill out a visitor name tag with the date and stick it on my coat, then take my daughter to her class, drop her off, and walk BACK to the office to sign out?! Who knows how many other parents are going to be waiting in line to do this each morning? What is the point, exactly? It's absurd! Sabina's classroom is like 50 feet from the front gate, so why must I get a visitor pass for 60 seconds?! My daughter has been going to this school for a mere two weeks and I'm already ready to pull her out. The first PTA meeting and the "welcome back" fall garden party is tonight, and I don't even want to go anywhere near it. I wanted to be involved in every aspect of my daughter's school that I could, but I don't even want to interact with anyone there more than I have to now. I don't feel welcomed in the least.
What I want to say to the school principle, the teachers, and the staff at this school, is simply have a heart! Let the new parents be new parents. Let them absorb the fun, joyfulness of the first day of kindergarten. Don't squash their needs to assure that you are going to be there for our children. Until the first day of school, they were our babies! We are cutting the umbilical cords and handing them over to complete strangers to care for during the better part of every day from now on! Show a little respect for the parents that bring you these kids to teach, and understand that it is heart wrenching to hand over your baby to a complete stranger that we are putting all our faith in. I don't appreciate being treated like an unwelcome stranger, or even a visitor. We are PARENTS! We deserve to be able to walk our new 5 year olds to their classrooms everyday as they get used to this routine and idea of school. We deserve to be there just as much as the children do! They are OUR children and you are taking care of them temporarily! Don't make parents feel powerless! Don't treat us like we don't belong there! Remember that each and every year, no matter how many times you've done this, this is still a NEW experience for the students and the parents. We need to feel secure and comforted that our babies will be in good, safe hands, and that they are happy when we leave them. Remember that this is a life experience for both parents and children! You are creating memories that will last a lifetime. It's a sure fire way to start out the new year with a negative first impression by shouting at parents and scolding the children. What are you trying to instill when the first thing a child experiences at their first school ever is an angry woman in an orange & yellow vest shouting at their mommy? Please, to the staff and veteran teachers who've been there for years, look back to your child's first day of school. Remember what it was like. The unfamiliarity, the newness and anxiety, fear and emotions you felt leaving your child in the hands of a strange new teacher. Then go back even further and remember what it was like to BE that new kindergartner on the first day of school, ever. I'm disgusted that this is what we have to endure, that this is what our daughter's school is like. I'm sick at the thought of it, knowing that because we aren't wealthy, we are stuck sending our children through the junior Nazi camp for kids instead of the beautiful Whole Earth Montessori school in the next town, on the right side of the tracks. Really puts you in your place, classicism, once you have to enroll your children into school. I feel like I just signed away my parental rights to the state instead of just starting her in school! I hope for my daughter's sake that she doesn't have a negative memory of her first day of school, but I know for a fact that it's already too late for me. I will unfortunately remember my daughter's first day of school for the rest of my life. And the manner in which I remember it will be all in thanks to that Nazi woman in the orange & yellow vest.
