Adding Value

Each day for me is strictly scheduled.  The girls have their schedule and I have mine.  This year I finally have the luxury of both girls in the same school so I've taken advantage of it.  I've always split my volunteer work between the girls' different activities, so this year has been a refreshing change because I've cut down on the ridiculous commute time.


The most meaningful thing I've done this year I did for myself and doesn't directly benefit the girls.  I started tutoring again.  I tutored through high school and college to earn a little extra pocket money, and it was less tutoring and more editing papers of my peers and reading to little kids.  This year I decided to avoid squandering my time by gaping open-mouthed at the computer screen and approached teachers I knew about how I could help. I HAD TO DO THIS.  I don't want to look back on this time and remember nothing but years of housework, chauffeuring, and reality tv.  The online shopping I still refuse to give up and thirty years from now I will smile fondly in remembrance of all the good deals I snagged.


First let me preface this by saying I could care less if other parents don't help a single minute of their day at their kids' schools ever.  Service should be done completely voluntarily and without resentment.  If this activity didn't mean something to me, then I wouldn't be doing it.  I've been asked to participate in other ways, and I've been comfortable with saying no.  I will smile and decline without any gnawing feelings of guilt clouding my better judgment.  Unless you are my mother.  Then all that goes out the window, of course, and I will end up performing all sorts of inane tasks to spare myself any potential passive-aggressive maneuvers.  

I already see the teachers working 60+ hours a week.  I see the kids staying after school so the teachers can provide them extra help.  They don't have to do it, but their dedication to these kids is pretty impressive.  Over the years, I haven't always agreed with all the teaching methods or types of classroom discipline, but ultimately I recognize teaching as a labor of love and bite my tongue regarding my non-expert opinion.  The teachers' time is finite with these kids, and it simply isn't enough.  Sometimes the parents don't have time, or sometimes the parents don't know how to teach their children to be better students.  Regardless, the ones that are struggling academically deserve a little boost.  And even from a completely selfish viewpoint, the better the low-performing students do, the more time the teachers have for the rest.  In the end, everyone will benefit by helping out the kids that need the help the most.

Usually I like kids and find their trying-to-outsmart-grownups antics amusing.  (I'm only truly Grinch-y in amusement parks and pinata frenzies.)  One-on-one I can manage them without wanting to bang my head against the counter.  Once the group mentality kicks in and children start to bicker, then my tolerance disappears.  The little runts need to take their Lord of the Flies craziness elsewhere, because I will lose it.  A little bit.  Mostly I just tune out all the whining and ignore the noise, but that really isn't beneficial to anyone but myself.

Tutoring is the best way I can think of to contribute.  We have lots of parents who are not native English speakers.  I know what that's like.   My parents would shout multiplication factors at me at dinnertime, but learning to read is something I had to do on my own.  At the time, I was the only non-English speaking student at my school so I'm not sure if the teachers had any experience teaching foreign language speakers.  I remember getting through the days in a muddied haze, having little to no idea what was occurring around me.   I've been lucky.  Some other kid could easily get lost in that confusion.   It's my responsibility to make that better.


All that being said, I'm not sure that my tutoring has made any difference at all.  The kids I work with I only see once a week.  They get a little additional practice with me, but I'm not sure that they are actually retaining much of what we do together.  I see them improve, but I don't think it's what we're doing together but rather their own eventual understanding of the material.   In the end, I'm still plagued with self-doubt and hope that they aren't wasting their time with me and actually benefiting from our time together.

Culture Clash

The past few weeks have been rough.  As rough as it gets for a stay-at-home mom living in middle-class suburbia.  Not that bad.  But to me, to me it was a blip in my usually peaceful existence.  I never realized I was such a control freak until I became a mother - and now I realize I want everything JUST SO.  And anything else kind of sends me off into a self-induced panic.


I live in an amazing neighborhood.  Truly amazing.  We have dozens of cultures that collide in this tiny little area - wealth(ier) households to afford this Bay Area craziness, paycheck-to-paycheck families who survive off boxes of macaroni, free school lunches and public transportation (shocking!), new immigrants, third and fourth generation families, and children whose heritage are too mixed to even unravel.  But all of that comes at a cost.  All of these personalities don't always mesh with mine or those raised under my supreme rule. 


I tutor a couple times a week.  My motives are another post for another time.  But one child I've been working with for months, he flipped out on me.  I knew it was coming.  I had recognized weeks ago that he was getting overly comfortable and familiar with me.  The line distinguishing me as authority figure and pushover buddy was getting pretty blurry pretty fast.  So I did what I do with my own personal mini-minions - I laid down the law and I didn't bend.


We're talking crocodile tears, thrown furniture, and name-calling.  Fist pounding.  Roars of outrage.  I was shocked.  And not shocked.  It's hard.  It's hard to go back when I don't have to.  I honestly care about this kid, but I can tell his willingness to work is waning.    There wouldn't have been as much drama if he wasn't testing me.  But all I could think was - this silliness must work for him at home or he wouldn't be trying it on me.


Here's where I struggle.  I know that part of his problem is that the other adults in his life do bend.  He probably has a learning disability.  Add his personal laziness and lack of initiative and his passionately volatile nature, it's so much easier for his exhausted mother to just let him play video games and watch tv than to enforce the rules and focus on his learning.  It's the teacher's job to teach him.  It's the school's job to educate him.  She works hard and by the end of the day, doesn't want to fight with her kid that she loves to get him to do just a little bit of work.


It kills me.  I understand.  I TOO LOVE THE TV AS A BABYSITTER.  I do.  I hate playing endless board games.  I don't want to read books about Disney's princess robots.  And I still have to do laundry, cook, and clean.  And on top of that she HAS to work.  A job she may or may not like to pay the bills.


But this kid - this kid can't read.  Well, he can.  But he doesn't trust himself since he keeps falling farther and farther behind his peers.  I just hate that the love of learning has already been squashed in a kid who is 7.   Why does she let him get away with all that nonsense?  A firm set of rules requires a short-term investment in perseverance, but will pay off in the long-term with better behavior and better habits.  What makes sense to me - a little bit of elbow grease now will have huge rewards later - doesn't always make sense to someone else.


Emily had her own little incident this week.  A boy kicked her.  She got mad and flicked him.  He retaliated by punching her in the face.  I can't even type that without feeling extreme over-the-top pissed-off scream-at-the-sky anger.  He's usually a well-behaved kid and gets along with most others.  For whatever reason (I suspect he likes her because she's a girl who wears dresses but can kick his butt in basketball.  This is his 8-year-old-juvenile way of showing it.  Hitting her to get her attention and then inviting her to his friends-only birthday party.  Boys are weird.)   He's been really obnoxious to her for months.  Emily complained to her teacher almost two months ago about his daily insults and even the earlier physical skirmishes and her teacher refused to separate them at that time.  (They are partners for EVERYTHING: math, square dancing, they sit next to each other.)  I think because both kids are USUALLY easygoing, she wanted to give them a chance to work on conflict resolution.  And plus, they are at similar academic levels.  And maybe because the desks are a pain in the ass to move.  I don't really know the rationale as she hasn't bothered to explain it to me.  Finally, this recent punching incident prompted the teacher to reconsider her seating arrangement.  But first she told Emily that Emily should have told this kid she didn't like it.  Oh and the teacher doesn't think he's a mean kid.  Yeah, really.  That's what she said.  I know because I was there.  Since the teacher didn't think daily insults required separation, I thought I'd give Emily some support when she went to talk to her teacher.


WHAT?!!  So a kid punches her in the face, and it's her job - the VICTIM'S JOB - to correct the perpetrator?  Because sometimes kids do like being punched in the face, so if you don't tell him beforehand - that justifies his action?   I don't think so.  I'm not saying Emily is innocent.  She did flick him.  BUT THAT WAS AFTER HE KICKED HER.


Still livid.  Can you tell?


WHAT IS WRONG WITH OTHER PEOPLE?  Do I live by a completely different set of rules than the rest of the world?  DO I?  I just don't know anymore.


I'm mad at the kid because he should have known better.  But I'm REALLY mad at the grown-ups.  His parents should have taught him that it's never ok to hit anyone - ESPECIALLY A GIRL.  Sexist, be damned.  And the teacher.  Ugh.  She just taught my daughter that if she speaks up about other kids assaulting her, the teacher won't take her seriously if she likes the other kid.


I have since talked to the principal and the kid myself.  So hopefully that's the end of it.  I usually hate - I do, I hover with the best helicopter parents out there, but I really want my kids to learn independence - interfering in the kids' little squabbles, but if I don't act as my daughter's advocate, who will?!  Obviously not her teacher.

Still mad.

I Missed This

Achoo! This is a dusty forgotten place.


I used to post about my girls all the time, and while their antics will always be perfectly amusing and charming to me, I realize the world-at-large isn't really interested in their strange little quirks or their latest accomplishments. I already have a forum for that - it's called Facebook, and my friends are free to hide my posts and I will never know.


Now this space is more for me - each day I am faced with issues both little and small. I realize that I face the problems of the very fortunate. You know, where I agonize over which shoe to wear when there are children without shoes. Or more recently, my overblown dismay at the complete lack of girls' track pants with ankle zippers in the clearance racks where I shop. I know this is a problem of a privileged life. That's me, limited by my bourgeois existence.


But that doesn't mean the track pants situation doesn't annoy the crap out of me. When Emily was in first grade (two years ago), her teacher pulled me aside and asked me if I had considered putting her in basketball. Do you know me? Have you seen my girls? Tiny little things. They aren't the absolute smallest in their classes, but they are petite.


So no, I hadn't even considered it. But all of a sudden, I thought why not? I had not been athletic. Throughout my childhood, my parents always told me it was acceptable to be awful at PE. They expected me to be awkward and physically weak. I should save my energies for important things like piano and spelling bees and Chinese school. Oh yeah, represent!  I lived the stereotype. So why shouldn't I just measure up to their expectations?


But now I look at my little girls and the world is brim-full of possibility. Her teacher flipped a switch for me, and I realized I would be shortchanging my girls unless I let them try things that may be outside of my own comfort zone. I thought what the hell - and we jumped into the life of athletic endeavors.  I want my girls to approach their life choices with the question "Why not?".


Emily tried the more girl-friendly choices - dance, gymnastics, and ice-skating. She simply did not enjoy them. I think she was uncomfortable with the performance element. So far, my kindergartner Rory does tend to enjoy those activities.  I may end up with a daughter who is going to love prancing around on a stage in glittery outfits.


So in the last two years, we've kept Emily occupied in team sports. She's played on a co-ed team for basketball and an all girls team for softball. Here's where I get upset.


It's really hard to find good athletic wear for my girls - especially my basketball playing third-grader. The sweatpants being sold are mostly sparkly and bejeweled. Decorative clothing, but not intended for real rugged play. Because it's cold outside, I wanted to get her those track pants with the little zippers around the ankles. Ideally she can remove the pants while wearing shorts underneath, and I wouldn't have to wrestle with her high tops. I can sometimes find some in the boys' section, but they are never sized for petite 8 year old girls or they are outrageously expensive. I have never NEVER seen any sold as girls' athletic wear. Not even online. Some of the athletic gear companies will be a little more savvy, and market them as Kidswear. But for the most part, all of the truly athletic gear will have the word Boys stamped all over the labels. As for shorts, the girls' shorts tend to be either sparkly (again) or very very hoochie-short. And SHOES! Basketball shoes for girls in brick-and-mortar shops are non-existent. (In larger sizes, there are styles available - but in true children's sizing at the ages these kids are first introduced to these sports, in sizes 10-13 - nothing.)  I can only purchase them online. Emily is great, she'll wear the boys' high-tops without complaint, but she is ultimately a girly-girl and loves her some pink and purple.


I realize that retailers stock their establishments by demand (I've taken marketing and economics classes!). Either there aren't enough girls playing sports at their age, or the retailers need to stop selling the mini-hoochie-mama wear and provide wearable girls athletic clothing. I don't think the current marketplace truly reflects the modern culture. Emily's closest friends are girls who play sports. They are competitive and athletic. But they are eight years old and self-conscious and impressionable too. So whatever they see is available to other girls, that's what they think they want. I think what they really want is something different. Fine. I want something different for them. I admit it.

DELETE

Sorry, folks. I deleted the whole thing. ON PURPOSE.

I was getting uncomfortable on some of my own harmless content. Because I'm neurotic.

I think this has run its course. Thanks so much for reading. Email me if you still want to keep in touch, like on Facebook or something.