Throwback to the first day of preschool
I recently had one of those horrible parenting moments when the right thing to do was the absolute last thing I wanted to do. After a bad day at school, I wanted to keep my son home with me to bake cookies and watch a movie and generally smother him in the safety and love of our home.
Instead, I listened to all that he had to say about the day and then told him what he didn’t want to hear. He needed to go back.
In the telling of his story, he told me that he’d talked to his teacher about his problem, and I affirmed his decision to bring an adult into the conversation. Her response was that by the next day, the problem would resolve itself.
I was a teacher for fourteen years before I sat on the parent side of the school equation. I had to draw from that well as I resisted the temptation to blame the teacher for letting my son be hurt or call the office and complain that she didn’t handle the matter with a swift, dramatic response.
I told my son that we were going to choose to trust his teacher.
She’s spent many days with this group of students (she’s looped) and has watched the interplay of all their personalities. She’s seen them resolve conflict and stepped in when necessary. I had no reason not to trust her. And I have no reason not to trust in the resilience of my son. I’ve raised him, after all.
I know that trust is earned and can be broken, and I know that some teachers have mishandled or ignored difficult situations, but I also know that mostteachers mostof the time are as protective of their students as their parents are. And they have a personal interest in their students getting along.
It’s hard to send our children into the world. I’m so grateful for the teachers who help us along the way.