I noted to my mom that, prior to taking the art classes, I don't think Jack would ever have used so many colors. I don't know if he would have even bothered coloring the picture in the first place. I am in no way suggesting that my son is the next Picasso, but this is so remarkably different than anything else he had ever done before. Heck, even writing the letters of his name in different colors is radical for him. I told her again how happy I was that we had sent him to the class, how much it had built his confidence.
My mom said to me, "You are so lucky you've been able to stay home with him."
I understood that she meant that any other caretaker might have assumed that Jack's reluctance indicated either a lack of aptitude or interest in drawing. Someone who had less invested in his development might not have thought to pursue another approach to see if we could nurture an undeveloped skill. With anyone else responsible for his day-to-day welfare, this is something that might have fallen through the cracks for him.
And... that. That right there is a major reason why I'm having such a hard time sending my baby to kindergarten.
I know (hope) his teachers are going to take good care of him, but they won't be able to give him as much individualized attention as I can. They will care for and about him, but he will only be one of 22 children (and we are extraordinarily blessed that the ratio is this low) in his teacher's class, only one of hundreds of children his teachers will have taught over their careers. If they fail to do their job right with him, statistically it doesn't mean they've failed in their life's work. However, he will always be my only boy, my only firstborn, one of only two children I will ever have. If I fail to do my job right with him, it will absolutely mean I've failed in my life's work. As important as I have no doubt every teacher feels each student is, my child will always be more important to me than he is to them.
Moreover, I have the gift of time to try different approaches with my child, to see what works and what doesn't. As much of a pat on the back as I am giving myself over these art lessons, I have to admit it's mostly because I am so thrilled that it worked out the way I hoped. Not the way I knew it would, but the way I hoped it would. And Jack is five years old. I've been wanting him to like coloring for years. If a teacher isn't getting the outcomes she wants with a student, she doesn't have five years to figure out what's going to stick. She has to speed through and try what's worked in the past with other kids. But if it's an intractable problem, it's hard to see how that impersonal assembly line approach is better than the loving one-on-one attention he has gotten from me all these years.
As the first day of school looms, Jack is starting to get more and more nervous. He tells me that he's afraid there's going to be too much work, too much for him to remember. I've been trying to talk to him about how it may be scary at first, but once he gets used to it, it will be easier and maybe even fun for him. I likened it to swimming and riding his bike. Both are activities he found frightening and difficult, but after learning then practicing them over and over, they are among his favorite things to do.
So far, I am grateful that he has not expressed any fears that he won't find friends, although he did tell me he wished he knew just one person in his class. I don't worry (much) about him not finding friends either, but I do wonder who these other children are. Who are their parents? What sort of influences will they have on my son? Will they tease the little boy out of him? Dim his enthusiasm for all the things he takes such joy in? Make him think it's not cool to show how much he loves us? As many people as I know in this city, I don't know a soul going to his school. These strangers are the people with whom my baby will spend the majority of his waking hours. For the first time in his life, it won't be me.
Just a couple days ago he brought up for the first time in months that he thought that kindergarten was going to be too long for him to be away from me and Violet. I agree, although I haven't told him so. I so wish there were a half-day kindergarten. I asked him if he wanted to put a picture of Violet in his school bag. He said he just wanted a picture of her in his bedroom. I had to laugh at how nonsensical his response was. Maybe he does need some education after all.
I know that teachers have the benefit of years of education and experience with children to compensate for their inability to give constant individual attention to each student. I know that they have their students' best interests at heart. I have to trust in that when I entrust them with my most valuable treasure.
Because, honestly, I still don't want to send him. :(
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